Return to the City of Betrayal
Emily stirred a pot of beef stew in her kitchen when her phone buzzed softly on the counter. A message from her best friend, Lucy—short and cold: “Meet me at the café. We need to talk.” Emily tried calling back at once, but Lucy didn’t answer. A sharp pang twisted in her chest, but she decided she had to go. She turned off the stove, changed quickly, and within half an hour, she was stepping into their favourite café. There, at the corner table, sat Lucy. And beside her—James. Emily’s husband. The way they sat left no room for doubt.
“Lucy? James?” Emily’s voice trembled, her hands shaking.
Without flinching, Lucy draped herself over James’s lap and leaned toward his face. He tried to stand, but Emily had already turned and walked out.
That scene was the final straw. There had been suspicions before—odd behaviours, late nights “working”—but this, her childhood friend’s betrayal, shattered everything. Her heart. Her trust.
She and Lucy had grown up together in a quiet market town. Lucy was an orphan—her mother vanished, her father unknown. A silent grandmother raised her. Emily, meanwhile, was the beloved daughter of a close-knit family. Her parents often took Lucy along—to picnics, the cinema, village fairs. Lucy clung to them as if she were blood. Their whole childhood was an unbroken “us”: climbing trees, playing house, dreaming of escaping to the big city.
Emily had made it. Medical school, marriage to James—son of a wealthy financier—a flat, a job as a doctor. Lucy stayed behind, selling shoes in a shop. But when Emily offered to help her move, Lucy agreed without hesitation. James even helped her find a rented flat.
Emily didn’t know then that Lucy and James had been talking in secret. That he’d met her at the train station. That an affair had begun behind her back. It all surfaced later. First, James’s strange distance. Then, Lucy’s message summoning her to the café. And finally—the scene she’d never forget.
A month later, James filed for divorce. Lucy moved into Emily’s flat. Gritting her teeth, Emily returned to her hometown, took a job at the local hospital, and rented a small room. Weeks passed. Then the chief physician sought her out—the head of the department was retiring, and he wanted her to take over.
One day on rounds, Emily met a new patient—a dignified man with kind eyes. Leonard Richardson. His face seemed familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Later, during their conversation, he suddenly laughed.
“You’re not the same little girl I once caught falling out of a tree, are you?”
Emily froze—the memory rushing back. As children, walking home from school, she and Lucy had climbed an old oak. Emily’s dress snagged, sending her slipping—but strong hands caught her just in time. A voice scolding, “What were you thinking? That’s dangerous.”
Now that voice was beside her again, steady and warm—a calm she hadn’t known in years.
Two weeks later, Leonard invited her to celebrate his discharge. Hesitant at first, she agreed. Then, as if guided by instinct, they grew closer. They saw each other more often. Soon, they married.
Now Emily lives with Leonard in a countryside manor. They have twin sons. Her parents are overjoyed. Life, at last, has meaning.
And Lucy? She went back to the market town, living in her grandmother’s old flat. James lost interest fast and kicked her out. Rumour says she works in a greengrocer’s now—bitter and alone. But boomerangs, as they say, always return. And they hit hardest when they do.
