“Alright, so there’s this story—let me tell it to you like I’d chat over a cuppa.
‘Sort this out with our partners once and for all,’ the boss said, irritated, drumming his fingers on the desk. ‘I’ve already spoken to their manager. They’re expecting you. Head out tomorrow morning—take the documents. Counting on you.’
‘No problem, I’ll handle it,’ Liam nodded. ‘I’ll drive.’
Liam was used to business trips. He liked the rhythm of it—new cities, faces, conversations. Predictable, straightforward: drive or fly, work the day, sort the issues, hotel, dinner at a pub, then back home.
His wife, Emily, had long since got used to his schedule. Every week or so, he’d be off to some town or another.
‘Em, I’ve got a trip tomorrow morning,’ he said when he got back to their cosy flat in Manchester.
‘Long one, or the usual?’ she asked, that faint worry in her voice she couldn’t quite hide.
‘Just the usual, quick one,’ he smiled, hugging her and kissing her temple.
His travel bag was always packed. Emily, ever thoughtful, kept it ready. He trusted her completely, only adding his documents and keys last minute.
They’d been married twelve years, raising their son Oliver—a bright lad, into football and doing well at school. This was Liam’s second marriage, but his first truly happy one. Oliver was his pride—sharp, kind, organised, always making them proud.
Whenever the lads got together for a pint or a weekend away, Liam would grin and say, ‘Lucked out with Emily. Feels like home with her. Trust her like I trust myself, and she does the same.’
‘Lucky sod,’ some’d sigh. Not all his mates had it so good. His best mate, James, was on his fourth marriage.
Early the next morning, Liam woke to the smell of pancakes.
‘She’s relentless,’ he thought fondly. ‘Already up and cooking. Too good for me—better not jinx it.’
‘Morning, love,’ he said, stepping into the kitchen after his shower.
‘Know how to keep you coming back,’ she winked, sliding a plate of pancakes his way. ‘Want you missing my cooking.’
‘Cheeky,’ he laughed. ‘Big match for Ollie today, yeah?’
‘Yeah, against the Liverpool squad,’ Emily nodded. ‘Said they’re going all out for the win.’
‘I’ll ring later, see how they did,’ Liam promised, heading out the door.
Packed up, documents in hand, he kissed Emily goodbye and hit the road in high spirits. Four hours to Birmingham. The motorway was peaceful, leaves just starting to turn, a few golden ones sticking to the windscreen.
Sorted the work quick once he got there. Just needed a bite before heading back. He liked driving at night—quieter, easier. Picked a cosy pub on the outskirts, one without the crowds.
Parked up, glanced at the sky. Dark clouds rolling in, thunder rumbling in the distance.
‘Thunderstorm in September? Rare.’
Inside, he took a seat by the window. The waiter took his order, and outside, lightning cracked. Then—bang—the door flew open, rain lashing down as a woman hurried in. Liam froze. He’d know her anywhere. Jessica. His first wife. The woman he’d once worshipped, then hated. Still stunning.
Their marriage had been chaos. Five years that felt like fifty. Passion turned poisonous—arguments, cheating, jealousy. He’d left, gone back, left again, until he finally walked for good. Then he met Emily, found peace. Hadn’t seen Jessica since.
‘What’s she doing in Birmingham?’ His chest tightened.
Jessica scanned the room. The waiter pointed her to a table nearby. She sat, shook out her auburn hair. That proud posture, that smirk. Liam wavered—bolt into the rain, or stay?
Then she spotted him. Paused. Then, smiling: ‘Liam? Blimey, can’t believe it’s you! Fate, eh?’
He forced a smile. ‘Hey. Yeah, small world.’
‘Mind if I join?’ she said, already sliding into the seat opposite.
Rain hammered the windows, thunder fading. The waiter took her order, warning it’d be a wait. Jessica wiped her hands, all chatty: ‘So, how’ve you been?’
‘Good. You?’
She launched into her own stories, laughing. Liam barely listened, lost in memories.
They’d met when she worked at a branch of his company. Phone calls turned to drinks, then a corporate do. Like magnets. Talked all night in her hotel room. Next day, wandering galleries. The second night—well.
‘I drove here,’ he’d said back then. ‘Fancy a lift home?’
‘Wouldn’t say no,’ she’d laughed.
They moved fast. Married fast. Then he noticed her flirting with clients.
‘Why d’you do that?’ he’d asked once.
‘Part of the job, love,’ she’d waved him off. ‘Got to charm ’em.’
Then he came home early from a trip. She wasn’t there. Strolled in at dawn, reeking of wine.
‘Where were you?’
‘Since when d’you get back?’ Deflection.
Later, he caught her with someone else. No apologies. Just done.
‘Liam.’ Jessica’s voice snapped him back. She leaned in. ‘Come back to mine after? I’m a sales director now. Could be like old times…’
He looked at her—still beautiful, but ice-cold. No spark. A stranger.
‘No, Jess. Not happening.’
The food arrived. Liam excused himself, stepped outside. Suddenly, he just needed to hear Emily’s voice.
‘Hey, love,’ she answered, warm as always. ‘Miss you. Know you’ll be late, but hurry back.’
‘Soon as I can,’ he smiled. ‘Just grabbing a bite, then hitting the road.’
Dinner was quiet. Jessica prattled on. He pushed food around his plate.
‘Not exactly gourmet,’ he muttered, standing. ‘Thanks for the chat.’
Polite goodbyes, then he was out in the rain, into the car, speeding home—where warmth waited. Rang Ollie on the way. The boy was buzzing—his team had won. Liam grinned, heart full.
And that was that.”
