“Ollie, there’s no need for any of this. I’m married, and I love my wife,” he said, reciting the well-rehearsed line.
William and Emily had been together for twenty-two years. The fiery passion of their younger days had settled into something steady and comfortable—more like deep affection than the dizzying excitement of their youth. Their daughter, Sophie, was in her second year at medical school, following in her parents’ footsteps. Hard not to, really, when all she’d heard growing up were dinner-table conversations about diagnoses, treatments, and patients’ complaints. Even as a little girl, she’d loved flipping through her dad’s anatomy textbooks, fascinated by the diagrams of the human body.
William and Emily had first noticed each other during a clinical rotation—he’d stepped in to help her examine a particularly difficult patient, a young man who’d been making inappropriate advances. Two years later, just before their final exams, they married.
After graduation, they both got jobs at the same hospital—Emily in cardiology, William as an orthopedic surgeon. Tonight was rare—their shifts had ended at the same time, so they drove home together.
“Should we stop at the supermarket? We’re out of vegetables for salad,” Emily asked.
“Honestly, can’t we skip the salad just this once? I’m shattered—today’s surgery was brutal,” William said, steering through the city’s busy streets.
“Fine. But we’ll have to go tomorrow. Just drop me off, and I’ll pop in myself.”
“Then you’ll lug heavy bags home, and I’ll feel guilty. Let’s just go together,” he replied, already turning into the supermarket car park.
William pushed the trolley while Emily piled groceries inside.
“Told you,” he muttered, staring at the overflowing trolley as they queued at the till.
“But now we won’t have to come back all week,” Emily said, grinning as she playfully nudged him. “Oh! Forgot the bread.” She darted off.
William sighed, packing items onto the conveyor belt. Space was tight, and a box of pasta tumbled onto the pile of groceries in front of him.
The woman ahead turned, giving him a sharp look. He mumbled an apology, clutching the awkwardly large box in his hands.
She kept staring. They were nearly the same height—brown eyes, lips turned down at the corners. Bleached hair with dark roots tied haphazardly into a messy bun under a long, brown coat that hung loosely on her thin frame.
He smiled politely and looked away, scanning for Emily. “Where is she? Probably grabbing more than just bread.” When he glanced back, the woman was still watching him. “Have I treated her? Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Will? Is that really you?” she suddenly asked, eyes lighting up.
“Do we know each other? Were you one of my patients? I’m terrible with faces—”
“So you did become a doctor, then? Just like you always said.” Her smile faded slightly. “It’s me—Olivia. Olivia Hart.”
He studied her face. Something familiar flickered—Olivia… Liv…
“Hart?!” The memory surfaced—the field behind their school, a girl running ahead of him, dark hair flying behind her. Him, breathless, never quite catching up.
“Do I look that different?” she asked quietly, noting his hesitation. “You’ve aged well—better, actually.”
Emily returned, curiosity flickering across her face as she glanced between them. William was so flustered he didn’t even check what else she’d grabbed. Highly unlike him. Emily tried finding space for the additional items, but the belt was already moving.
William snapped back to reality.
“This is Olivia Hart. An old classmate,” he said stiffly. “And this is my wife, Emily.”
Emily gave Olivia a polite nod, but Olivia turned away abruptly as the cashier rang up her items. She paid, took her bag, and lingered by the exit—waiting.
Great. Now what? Probably wants free medical advice. Happened all the time.
“Will, do you have the card?” Emily asked, snapping him out of it.
He tapped the card, heaved the shopping bags, and headed for the door. Olivia held it open for him. Awkward. Why was she doing this?
They all stepped outside.
“Where do you live now?” Olivia asked, ignoring Emily entirely. “Still near your parents?”
“No, a few streets over. Bought a place nearby to visit them more often. You?”
“Oh, me?” She waved vaguely. “Doesn’t matter.” An uncomfortable pause. “Glad I ran into you. Should I… go?” She looked at him expectantly.
He said nothing. Olivia turned and walked away.
“Was she in love with you?” Emily asked as they got into the car. “You never mentioned her.”
“No, it wasn’t like that.”
“Really? Because she looked at you like she hadn’t gotten over it.”
“Fine. *I* was in love with *her*,” he admitted. “But she picked the star of the football team—Tommy Reed.”
Emily smirked. “Seeing you now, I bet she regrets that. I’m jealous.”
“Don’t be. Regret or not, it doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
They dropped it. That night, William lay awake, replaying his younger years—the heartbreak, the way he’d nearly failed his A-levels over her.
She’d changed. Life with Tommy must’ve been rough. Back then, everyone said he’d play for England. And William? Just the bookish one.
He finally drifted off as dawn broke, not hearing Emily leave for work. Exhausted from yesterday’s surgery, he slept in, waking to cold coffee and sandwiches left on the table.
After a slow morning, he drove to the hospital. At a red light, he spotted Olivia’s brown coat at the bus stop. His first instinct was to drive past—pretend he hadn’t seen her. But she’d already noticed the car, waving eagerly. He pulled over.
“Hi! Was starting to think the bus wouldn’t come. Freezing out here.”
She looked better today—light makeup, hair neater—but hunched over, hands shoved in her pockets.
He didn’t buy the coincidence. “Never seen you here before.”
“Just moved nearby.”
“Something wrong? Need medical help?”
“No.” She hesitated. “I just wanted to talk—properly. Without your wife there.”
William tightened his grip on the wheel.
“Remember how you used to chase me?” she laughed. “And I…”
“You picked the footballer.”
“That’s harsh.” Her smile faded. “Girls always dream of princes. Sometimes, though, we mistake who they are.”
“Kids?”
“None. Tommy was always away—training, matches. Came home a zombie. Then he got injured. No one wanted him after that. Football was all he knew.”
She exhaled sharply. “Started drinking. Tried to help him, but… I had to leave. He’d have dragged me down too.”
“Where am I taking you?”
“We passed it. Just drop me, I’ll get the bus.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He turned the car around.
“Children?”
“A daughter. Medical school.”
“Smart and beautiful, like you? Pull over here. Will I see you again?”
“Liv—” A honk cut him off. “I can’t stop here.”
“Promise me?”
He nodded. Waited until she was out before driving off, frustration boiling under his skin.
*Why the hell is this happening? I love Em. I don’t need these promises, these meetings.*
But he saw her again days later—waiting in the rain outside his building after a night shift.
“Liv, *stop*. I’m married. I love my wife.”
“Where can we talk?” she pressed, as if he hadn’t spoken.
He glanced around. “The car, I guess.”
Inside, she blurted, “I don’t want anything from you. But when I saw you—I thought…”
“Then why keep chasing me?”
“I can’t do IVF on my own,” she said, voice breaking. “I want a child. *Your* child.”
William recoiled. “*What?*”
“I’d never bother you after—”
“Liv, this is *insane*. You really think I’d betray Emily for—*this*?!”
She laughed suddenly—then burst into tears. “God, look at me. Begging.”
She opened the door. “Sorry.”
He watched her walk away, shoulders slumped.
Emily noticed the moment she got home. “You cooked? You *hate* cooking.”
He told her everything.
“She’s desperate,” Emily said quietly. “But why you?”
“She said she wanted a son like me.”
Emily exhaled. “Let’s eat.”
Weeks later, Olivia appeared again—under the oak in their estate.
“You’re making me consider moving,” he said.
“Just wanted to see you one last time.”
SheWilliam watched her disappear into the fading twilight, feeling a strange mix of pity and relief, grateful for the quiet certainty of his life with Emily.
