Holly had just left the office and made her way to her car in the parking lot. A light dusting of snow covered the bonnet and windscreen. She slid into the driver’s seat, switching on the heater to warm the icy interior before wiping away the snow with the wipers.
As she merged into the evening traffic, the roads were clogged—red lights and crawling queues stretched endlessly. Passing a bustling shopping centre, Holly decided to pull in, hoping to kill time and browse for Christmas gifts while avoiding the gridlock. But the car park was just as packed, every space taken. She almost regretted diverting, wishing she’d stayed on the road, inching forward instead of sitting idle.
Then, in her rearview mirror, headlights flashed—an SUV reversed, yielding its spot to her.
Inside the shopping centre, the air was stuffy, the crowds overwhelming. Holly loosened her coat and scarf, weaving through aisles lined with twinkling decorations and holiday displays. She tossed a handful of glittering baubles into her basket, along with a pair of silver reindeer tree ornaments, towels printed with Father Christmas, and engraved champagne flutes—small, cheerful tokens for colleagues and friends. For her mother and husband, she’d pick something more thoughtful later.
Exhausted by the noise, Holly joined the snaking queue at the till. She should’ve come on a quiet Sunday morning instead. When her turn came, she winced at the total—far more than she’d intended. Well, no matter. She gathered her bag, tightening her scarf, and carefully navigated the throng toward the exit.
“Holly!”
She didn’t react at first, still walking.
“Bailey!”
Only then did she stop, startled by her maiden name. Shoppers jostled past as she stepped aside, scanning the crowd.
“Remember me?” A man’s voice came from beside her.
Holly turned to see a scruffy, bearded figure in a tatty beanie pulled low. One of his front teeth was missing, his clothes baggy and unkempt. She recoiled inwardly—this couldn’t be anyone she knew.
“Don’t recognise me?” he chuckled. “You’ve barely changed. Still look a million quid.”
There was something faintly familiar in his voice, but she couldn’t place him.
“We were in the same class at school,” he prompted.
“Oliver?!” she gasped, too polite to ask what had reduced him to this state.
“The one and only,” he grinned, flashing the gap in his teeth. “That shocked?”
Holly nodded. “What… happened?”
“Long story. Fancy a cuppa? There’s a café here.”
She hesitated, ashamed to be seen with him. The Oliver she’d once fancied—the boy she’d cried over—was now a stranger in rags.
“Sorry, I’ve got to go,” she muttered, avoiding his gaze.
“Just a quick chat. Been years.”
Reluctantly, she agreed, more out of curiosity than kindness. Oliver brightened, ushering her toward the café.
Most tables were taken. “Over there,” he pointed to a dim corner.
Holly sat, relieved to be hidden.
A waiter handed them menus. Oliver studied his hungrily, throat bobbing. Holly ordered coffee.
Oliver rattled off a full meal—she barely registered it, nodding when the waiter glanced at her for approval.
“Best coffee around,” Oliver said after the waiter left. “Come here often.”
“You work nearby?”
He nodded, shame flickering. Not a manager, then. Likely a cleaner or labourer.
“You ever become that doctor you wanted?”
“You remember that?” Holly blinked. “Yeah, I’m an endocrinologist.”
Oliver smiled vaguely. “Got a family?”
She glanced at her shopping. “You?”
“Was married. To Jessica. Remember her? Right piece of work. She’s why I’m… like this.” He hesitated. “Fancied you back then, though.”
Holly’s chest tightened. *I fancied you too.*
The food arrived. Oliver devoured his salad; Holly sipped her coffee, eager to leave.
“What actually happened?” she pressed.
Oliver set his fork down. “Had a flat, decent job. Engineering degree. But Jessica wanted more—started a business with a mate. Went bust. Left me in debt. Her dad wanted his money back. Sold everything. Dad died from the stress.”
He exhaled. “Then Jessica married my old business partner. Pretty sure they planned it. I drank. Lost it all. Mum’s the only reason I’m still here.”
Holly winced. “You could’ve sued.”
“Wasn’t in my right mind. They’d have buried me anyway.”
When the bill came, Oliver paid before she could reach for her purse, pride hardening his gaze.
Outside, Holly hurried to her car.
“Take care,” Oliver called.
She didn’t look back.
At home, her husband, James, poured her wine.
“Met someone from school,” she admitted. “Oliver Bailey.”
“Should I be jealous?”
She told him everything.
“Loser,” James shrugged. “Gave up instead of fighting.”
“He just needed a chance,” Holly murmured.
James sighed. “Fine. I’ll see if there’s something for him.”
Weeks later, she returned to the shopping centre, asking a disinterested security guard about Oliver.
“Gone. Month now.”
“Did anyone look for him?”
The guard snorted. “Loads like him out there.”
She left her card, hoping.
Once, she spotted a man who resembled Oliver on the street—but it wasn’t him.
She hoped he’d turned things around. But he never called.
Some paths, once lost, stay lost forever.
