When Things Aren’t What They Seem
Emily leaned her head against the bus window, watching raindrops blur the world outside. “Just like my life,” she thought. “The future’s hazy and uncertain—it’s terrifying.” She closed her eyes, a tear slipping past her lashes.
“Kids these days,” a sharp voice remarked overhead. “Sitting like the rest of us don’t exist. While decent folk stand.”
Emily looked up to see a stout, middle-aged woman glowering down at her, disapproval etched into every feature.
“Please, take my seat,” Emily offered, standing.
“About time. Would’ve sat here all day if I hadn’t said something,” the woman grumbled, shoving past.
Emily squeezed past her to the other side of the aisle, only to hear mutters about “rude young people”—echoed by a few passengers. “Maybe her life’s worse than mine,” Emily thought. “That’s why she’s so bitter.”
“Getting off?” a voice asked behind her.
Emily turned and gasped. “Katie? Bloody hell—it’s been ages!”
Before she could reply, the bus doors hissed open, and the crowd shoved them onto the rainy street.
“I’m so glad I ran into you!” Katie beamed, linking arms with her. “You’re not escaping till I know everything.”
“Me too,” Emily murmured, forcing a smile. “But I can’t invite you home.”
“Don’t worry—we’ll go to Mum’s. I’m married now, living in Chelsea. Just popping by for a visit.”
“Katie, I really can’t—another time?”
“Not a chance! Come on, just half an hour!” Katie pleaded, tugging her along.
“Fine, but no longer,” Emily sighed.
“Got seven kids waiting or something?”
“No. Just my husband and daughter.”
“Well, they can manage. Come on!” Katie steered her past her own flat, toward a narrow side street.
“Mum, look who I found!” Katie announced triumphantly.
Her mother gasped, clasping her hands. Back in school, the pair had been inseparable. Katie had kept calling after graduation, desperate to meet, but Emily had been distracted—head over heels in love. Her mum had begged her not to marry him. “A boxer? What kind of career is that? Broken noses, brain damage—think, Emily!”
Katie’s mum bustled about, setting out teacups.
“Mum, give us a minute?” Katie asked.
“Of course!” She hurried out.
“Alright, spill. I knew something was wrong. Maybe I can help.”
Emily hesitated, but Katie’s warm, earnest gaze loosened her tongue.
“So you married your Jack after all? I remember how smitten you were.”
“Yeah. Mum never approved—always compared me to you. Said you’d land on your feet because you were smart and practical. Called me a ‘romantic fool.'”
“Classic Margaret,” Katie chuckled. “Still teaching?”
“Yep.” Emily finally smiled.
Katie was tall, slim, blonde—everything polished. Emily, with her round face, curly chestnut hair, and wide blue eyes, fit the “romantic fool” label. Though now, exhaustion dimmed that spark.
“At first, things were fine. Then Jack got a head injury during qualifiers for the nationals. Stroke on top of it.” Emily waved a hand. “No more boxing. I was already pregnant—don’t know how I didn’t lose the baby.”
After the birth, she’d cared for Jack with their daughter in tow. Sold their car to afford medicine. Returned to work six months postpartum while her mum babysat. Jack’s recovery took years. He’d never box again.
“Jobs never stick. He’s frustrated—snaps at everyone. Only softens around our girl.” Emily turned away, blinking fast.
“I’ll talk to my husband. He runs a security firm. Maybe Jack could work there?” Katie squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry, we’ll sort this.”
“Thanks, Katie. But I’ve got to go—Jack hates when I’m late. Gets paranoid I’ll leave.”
They swapped numbers. “Paul adores me—he’ll help,” Katie assured her.
“Mum was right—you’re brilliant.” Emily hugged her. “I’m a mess.”
“Rubbish. It’s not how you start—it’s how you finish.”
At home, Emily stayed quiet, not wanting to jinx Jack’s hopes. Katie called three days later.
“Paul’s willing to hire him as a guard. But he wants to meet him first. After injuries… well, you understand.”
“He doesn’t drink,” Emily said stiffly.
“Just covering bases. Tell Jack to come tomorrow, three o’clock. Suit and tie—clean-shaven.”
Emily relayed the details, omitting the alcohol bit.
The next day, Jack left in his only suit. Emily clutched her phone till he called—hired. Relief washed over her. She’d feared he’d turn to drink.
For two months, life stabilized. Jack thrived, confidence returning. Then Paul fired his driver and offered Jack the role.
Soon, Jack came home late, withdrawn. One night, his knuckles were split.
“You fought?” Emily gasped.
“Part of the job,” he dismissed.
Two hours later, Katie called, furious. “After everything, your Jack attacked Paul!”
“What happened?” Emily demanded.
“Ask him! He’s unhinged!”
Before Emily could interrogate Jack, the doorbell rang—insistent, angry.
“I’ll get it,” Jack growled.
Raised voices. A thud. Emily peeked out to see Paul’s two bodyguards—one slumped, the other pinned to the wall. Jack tossed them out, ignoring their threats.
“What the hell happened?” Emily cried.
“Paul came to kill me. Picked the wrong bloke.”
“But why?”
“Turns out he’s not the upstanding chap you thought. I’ve been driving him to his mistress. Tonight, he got handsy with a girl at a restaurant—I intervened.” Jack flexed his bruised hand. “He’s finished with me.”
As Emily bandaged his hand, Jack warned, “Katie won’t believe it. She’ll think I’m lying.”
Yet the next day, Katie arrived—tearful, cheek bruised.
“Paul hit you?” Emily gasped.
“First time. I never knew him at all,” Katie whispered. “I pitied you. Thought you’d ruined your life marrying Jack. But he’s the decent one.”
“Will you forgive him?”
“No. And I won’t go to Mum—she worships Paul.”
“Stay with us,” Emily urged.
Katie shook her head. “Paul will retaliate—against you too.”
“Too late. He already will,” Jack said. “Stay tonight. We’ll figure it out.”
The next morning, Jack escorted Katie home for her things. As they left, a black car nearly mowed her down. Jack shoved her clear, then checked her into a cheap hotel under a fake name.
“Best leave town,” he advised. “Paul won’tMeanwhile, Jack’s old boxing coach tracked him down with an unexpected offer—to take over his gym, proving that life, no matter how rough, always finds a way to balance the scales.
