If Not for You…
Emily and Sophie had been friends since childhood, attending the same nursery and sharing a desk in school. As they grew, Emily blossomed into a striking beauty, effortlessly drawing admirers while life seemed to hand her everything on a silver platter. Sophie, on the other hand, was unremarkable—one of those girls whose face rarely caught a second glance in a crowd.
After school, Sophie enrolled in nursing college, determined to dedicate herself to helping others. Emily scoffed at the idea of degrees, believing charm was enough. She took a short course and worked in a beauty salon, tinting brows and applying lashes.
The two were inseparable, weathering each other’s heartbreaks. Not a day passed without them meeting or chatting on the phone—though it was usually Emily venting while Sophie listened, offering sympathy after another failed romance or cheering on a new flame.
As often happens between friends, they fell for the same man.
Sophie met Daniel first. Had he been some dashing hero, their love might never have stood a chance. But he was ordinary—unremarkable, even—and for once, Sophie dared to hope.
Leaving the corner shop one evening, Sophie dodged a sprawling puddle left by the afternoon rain. Out of nowhere, a man on an electric scooter barrelled toward her, gaze fixed ahead as if she were invisible. At the last second, she yelped and leapt aside—straight into the water.
“Bloody menaces, these scooters!” an old lady nearby shouted, shaking a gnarled finger at the rider. “Nearly ran her over, didn’t he?”
The bloke braked and glanced back. Sophie, now standing ankle-deep in murky water, grimaced at her ruined trainers.
“Sorry about that,” he called. “Didn’t need to jump in, though—I saw you. Would’ve swerved.”
Sophie ignored him, scanning for dry pavement.
“Hop on. I’ll give you a lift,” he offered.
“Just leave it,” she muttered.
“Come on. Where to?”
“Turner Street. Number twelve.”
Clutching the handlebars, she wobbled onto the scooter. The wind rushed past as they sped off, her stomach flipping—Sophie had never dared ride one before, but with him, fear melted away.
They reached her building, and he leaned in, breath warm against her ear. “Which door?”
Goosebumps raced down her neck. “Third.”
He stopped right at the steps, sparing her another puddle. “Cheers,” she mumbled.
Their eyes met. Tanned skin, dark lashes, a grin quickening her pulse.
“Daniel,” he said.
“Sophie.”
“Listen, about earlier. Fancy catching a film sometime? All my mates have scarpered for summer—hate going alone.”
She shrugged. “Suppose so.”
“Brilliant. Same spot tomorrow, seven sharp.” With a grin, he zipped off.
Back home, her mother narrowed her eyes. “You’re glowing. What’s happened?”
“Nothing. Stepped in a puddle.” Sophie handed over the shopping and locked herself in the bathroom, replaying his smile until her skin prickled again.
Next evening, she tugged on jeans and trainers, certain he’d arrive on that scooter.
“Off out?” her mum called.
“Just the cinema. With Emily,” Sophie lied.
No sign of Daniel outside. Her stomach plummeted. *Pathetic*, she chided herself, turning to leave—
“Alright?” His voice spun her around.
Blushing, she climbed on. The ride was just as thrilling, his chest warm against her back.
After the film, they walked home chatting, the scooter forgotten.
“So, who’s this mystery man?” Emily demanded over the phone next morning. “Spill.”
Sophie tensed. “Mum told you?”
“Relax, she didn’t squeal. Well?”
For once, Sophie had something to boast about. “Just some bloke,” she said, though he was anything but.
Daniel waited that evening—no scooter, just a stroll through town. Then Emily appeared, as if she’d been lying in wait.
“Hello!” She beamed at Daniel, who couldn’t look away.
Sophie trailed behind until they forgot her entirely.
At home, she switched off her phone. Emily came by next day, gushing apologies—she’d fallen hard.
Sophie forgave her. They stayed friends, even after Daniel married Emily.
Sophie qualified as a nurse, working at a private clinic. Emily kept her salon job for fun, not money, while Daniel earned well. They celebrated birthdays, New Year’s, barbecues—Sophie hiding her growing feelings.
Then, a midnight call shattered everything.
“Do you know what time—?” Sophie snapped, seeing Daniel’s name.
“It’s Emily. She’s… gone.” His voice cracked.
“What? Speak properly!”
“Coming back from the country… she wanted to drive. A tow truck smashed into us. She didn’t… she didn’t make it.”
Sophie dressed in a daze.
“Who was that?” Her mum yawned in the doorway.
“Emily’s had an accident. I’m going to the hospital.”
“Wait till morning!”
Grabbing her nurse’s coat, Sophie slipped past reception unnoticed.
Daniel lay wired to machines, dawn light painting him ghostly pale.
“How bad?” she asked.
“Surgery’s done. Can’t feel my legs.” His eyes were hollow. “Should’ve been me.”
“Don’t say that.”
“That truck came out of nowhere—”
She interrupted, fetching his doctor. “Nerves are intact. Now we wait.”
Sophie helped with the funeral, visited Daniel daily. He wallowed in guilt, shoving her away.
“We can’t keep him here,” the doctor said. “He needs rehab, daily care. There’s a private nurse—expensive, but skilled.”
Daniel’s mother balked at the cost. “We’ll manage.”
They couldn’t. Sophie’s shifts clashed; his parents had work.
Then his mum hired a young, pretty carer. Jealousy lanced through Sophie—she’d never envied Emily, but this stranger? She visited less.
Two weeks later, Daniel’s mother called, trembling.
“That nurse—she robbed us! Took money, jewellery…” Police had left; the woman had drugged Daniel and vanished.
“Told you to hire the hospital’s!” his father fumed.
Sophie rushed over. Daniel, silent and despondent, snarled when she urged him to fight.
“Who’d want me like this? Piss off!”
“You’re wrong,” she whispered.
“About what? You’ll bolt too. Just leave.”
“I won’t.” She steeled herself. “Emily thought you only asked me out that first time out of pity. Maybe so. But I cherished it. Watching you with her destroyed me—yet I stayed. I’ll get you walking again. For her. *Then* I’ll go.”
She quit days, switched to nights, tending him herself—injections, massages, relentless exercises. Progress was slow, but one day, Daniel stood. Seconds only, but hope flared. Soon, he shuffled with crutches.
As he grew stronger, Sophie faded away, certain he’d never see her as more than a friend.
Months later, she came home to find him at her kitchen table, her mother pouring tea.
“Sophie,” he said, rising unsteadily. “Your mum’s been kind.”
“How—?”
“Walking’s easier now.” He pulled out a ring. “I was a coward. When you said you wanted me, I pretended not to hear. Scared you’d pity me, then leave. But without you…” He swallowed. “Marry me?”
Sophie stared at the ring, throat tight.
“Too late? Is there someone else?”
“I waited so long…”
Two years on, Daniel walked unaided, back at work. Sophie, heavily pregnant, let him fuss over vitamins and daily strolls.
A person can endure anything—if someone believes in them.
