The Past Remains in the Past
“Go and sort this out with our partners once and for all,” the director said irritably, glaring at Edward. “I’ve already spoken to their manager—they’re expecting you. Leave tomorrow morning, take the documents. I’m counting on you,” he added, drumming his fingers on the desk.
“No problem, I’ll handle it,” Edward nodded. “I’ll drive.”
Edward’s role involved frequent trips, and he didn’t mind. He enjoyed the work—new cities, new faces, fresh conversations. It was all predictable: the journey by car or plane, the meetings, the solutions, the hotel, a meal at a pub. Then, home again.
His wife, Eleanor, had long grown accustomed to his travels. Once a week, sometimes less, Edward would set off for big cities and small towns alike.
“Ellie, I’m off in the morning—another trip,” he told her when he returned to their cosy flat in Manchester.
“How long this time? Or just the usual?” she asked, as always with a hint of worry in her voice.
“Just the usual, won’t be long,” Edward smiled, pulling her into a hug and kissing her temple.
His travel bag was always packed. Eleanor, ever attentive, kept it ready. He trusted her completely, only adding his documents and keys at the last moment.
They had been married twelve years, raising their son, William, a bright lad who excelled in school and had a talent for cricket. This was Edward’s second marriage, but his first truly happy one. He adored William—clever, kind, and disciplined, a boy who made his parents proud.
Among friends, whether fishing by the river or sharing a pint at the local pub, Edward always spoke of Eleanor with warmth.
“I’m lucky to have found a woman who makes life peaceful. I trust her completely, and she trusts me the same.”
“Lucky bastard,” some sighed. Not all of his mates had been so fortunate. A few, like Edward, were on their second marriages, while his best friend, Thomas, was already on his fourth.
Early the next morning, Edward woke to the scent of pancakes.
“She never rests, does she?” he thought fondly. “Already bustling in the kitchen. Lucky man I am—hope I don’t mess it up.”
“Good morning, my darling,” he said, stepping into the kitchen after his shower.
“I know how to keep you happy,” Eleanor winked, sliding a plate of pancakes toward him. “Wanted you to miss my cooking and hurry back.”
“Clever girl,” Edward laughed. “Oh—William’s got that big match today, hasn’t he?”
“Yes, against the team from Leeds,” Eleanor nodded. “He said they’re going all out for the win.”
“I’ll ring this evening to see how it went,” Edward promised, glancing at William, still asleep.
With his bag packed and documents in hand, he kissed Eleanor goodbye and left—the four-hour drive to Birmingham ahead of him. The open road, far from the city’s bustle, always lifted his spirits. September had just begun, but golden leaves already danced in the wind, clinging to his windscreen.
The meeting with the partners went smoothly. Dinner, then the journey home—Edward preferred night drives, quieter and freer. He chose a familiar little pub on the outskirts of Birmingham, cosy and never too crowded.
Parking the car, he glanced upward. A dark cloud loomed, and distant thunder rumbled.
“A storm in September?” Edward murmured. “Unusual.”
Inside, he took a seat by the window. The waiter took his order, and outside, lightning flickered. Then the door swung open, and amid the roar of thunder and the drumming rain, a woman stepped inside. Edward froze. He’d have known her anywhere.
Cynthia. His first wife—once worshipped, later despised. She was still dazzling.
Their marriage had been chaos. Five years with Cynthia had felt like an eternity. Passion had twisted into torment—fights, betrayals, jealousy. Edward had left, returned, left again, until he finally walked away for good. Then came Eleanor, and with her, peace. He hadn’t seen Cynthia since.
“What’s she doing in Birmingham?” His chest tightened.
Cynthia scanned the room. The waiter gestured to a nearby table, but before she could sit, she spotted him. For a moment, they just stared. Then, grinning, she called:
“Edward? Can’t believe my eyes! Fate bringing us together, is it?”
He forced a smile, feigning indifference.
“Hello. Yes, it’s me.”
“Mind if I join you?” she declared, already sliding into the seat opposite before he could answer.
Rain lashed the windows, the thunder fading. The waiter took her order, warning of a wait. Cynthia wiped her hands on a napkin and began:
“So, tell me—how’ve you been?”
“Fine,” Edward said shortly. “You?”
She didn’t answer, launching instead into chatter, smiling brightly. Edward barely listened, lost in memory.
They’d met when Cynthia worked at a branch of his company. Phone calls led to a meeting at a work gathering. They’d been drawn together, magnetised. That first night, they talked until dawn in her hotel room. The next day, they wandered a museum. The second night wasn’t for talking.
“I’ve got my car,” he’d said then. “Let’s drive back together?”
“Wouldn’t say no,” Cynthia laughed.
They moved in fast, married faster. But soon, Edward noticed her flirting with clients.
“Why do you encourage them?” he’d asked once.
“It’s business,” she dismissed. “Got to keep them keen.”
Then he’d come home early from a trip to an empty house. Cynthia had stumbled in at dawn, reeking of wine.
“Where were you?” he’d demanded.
“Why are you back today?” she’d deflected, avoiding his gaze.
Later, he’d caught her with someone else. She hadn’t even bothered with excuses.
“Edward.” Cynthia’s voice snapped him back. She was watching him, a glint in her eye. “Come to mine after this? I live nearby now—Sales Director. We could relive old times…”
He studied her—still beautiful, but cold. No feelings stirred. She was a stranger now, a colleague he’d rather avoid. The past was behind him.
“No, Cynthia. I won’t.”
The food arrived. Edward excused himself, stepping onto the terrace. Suddenly, he ached to hear Eleanor’s voice.
“Hello, love,” she answered warmly. “Miss you. Knew you’d be back late.”
“Won’t be long,” he smiled. “Just finishing up here.”
Dinner with Cynthia passed in silence. She prattled on; he pushed food around his plate.
“Fit for the dogs,” he muttered, standing. “Thanks for the company.”
Politely, he said his goodbyes, then strode out into the rain. The car door shut, the engine roared—and he was off, racing toward home, warmth, love. He called William on the way. The boy cheered, thrilled—his team had won. Edward grinned, heart swelling with pride.
