“Fancy a pint at the pub? Chat about our day?” asked Oliver at the end of their shift.
“Sorry, mate, heading home. Look.” James pulled a small box from his pocket and opened it.
“Blimey, youre actually doing it?” Oliver eyed the ring. “Thought youd never settle down.” He clapped James on the back.
“Me and Emily have been together four yearstime to make it official. Shes got no idea, its a surprise. If I dont do it now…”
“Youll never do it,” Oliver finished. “Still having second thoughts? Come off it, Emilys a stunner. Bit jealous, if Im honest.”
“Right, Im off. Promised Emily Id be home early.” James tucked the box away and hurried to the lift.
On the way, he stopped at a florist for a bouquet of red rosesEmilys favourite. He placed them on the passenger seat, rehearsing his speech at every traffic light. *”Love, youve waited so long… Emily, will you marry me?”* None of it sounded right.
Parking outside their flat, he grabbed the roses and headed for the door. Just as he reached for the handle, his phone rang.
“James, love…” His mums voice told him something was wrong.
“Whats happened?”
“Im fine, but… its Sarah. Shes gone, love.”
“Bloody hell…” His hand fell from the door.
Sarahhis childhood friendgone. *How?*
“A hit-and-run. Funerals tomorrow. Please come? She loved you… And little Lilys all alone now. Theyll take her into care…”
“Ill be there,” he promised.
He barely remembered climbing the stairs or stepping inside. The roses felt absurd now. How could he propose at a time like this?
“Special occasion?” Emily asked, stepping into the hall. The flat smelled of her cooking, but the cosy scent just felt off now.
“Roses dont need a reason.” He forced a smile, handing them over with a peck on the cheek.
Emilys disappointment was obvious as she turned away.
At dinner, he pushed food around his plate.
“Not hungry?” she asked.
“Not really. Mum calledSarah died. Funerals tomorrow.”
“Sarah…?”
“My ex-wife. Have to sort things out for Lilyour daughter.”
“Hold onyou never mentioned a *daughter*. How old is she?”
“Twelve, I think.”
“So youre bringing her *here*?”
“Dunno. Sarahs got no family. Mums too ill to care for her. Look, I need to packtaking the night train.”
“Youre *actually* going? After all these years?”
“Yeah. Keep the car while Im gone.”
“So *this* was your surprise?” Emily stood abruptly.
“No. Ill explain later.” He squeezed the ring box in his pocket.
The train ride was sleepless. Memories flooded back…
Theyd grown up togethersame nursery, same school. Skinny, fair-haired Sarah was always poorly, scarf wrapped round her neck. When her parents died in Year 11, his family took her in. His dad joked shed make a fine wife one day. James hated that.
Then, during A-levels, his parents went away for a weekend. He barely remembered how it happened, but Sarah got pregnant. His parents insisted they marry.
Hed only ever seen her as a friend*sister*, even. Love was supposed to feel… grander, wasnt it? But he married her. Sarah barely carried Lily to term. Holding his daughter for the first time, he felt… nothing. The truth hit him: he didnt love Sarah, didnt care for the baby. He wasnt ready.
After scraping through his first uni year, he transferred to London and left.
His dads words still stung: *”We dont abandon our kids. You walk out now, youre no son of mine.”*
He never went back. Not even for his dads funeral.
Then came Emily. Falling for her was easy. But proposing? Hed dragged his feet for years. Now, just as hed finally bought the ring, Sarah had somehow ruined it all one last time.
Except… if he was honest, there wasnt much left to ruin. The spark with Emily had fizzled ages ago. They stayed together out of habit. He wasnt even sure he *wanted* to marryjust didnt want to lose her.
Exhausted, he finally slept.
His mum wept as she hugged him at the station. Lily stood back, arms crossed.
“Lily, love, this is your dad,” his mum said gently.
The girl scoffed, spun on her heel, and stormed off to *his* old bedroom.
Sarahs coffin was closed. It hardly felt real. Lily didnt cryjust glared at the ground, ignoring him.
Later, he overheard his mum pleading: “You cant go into care, not with your dad alive!”
“Why not? He *left* us. Im not going with him.”
But she did. On the train, Lily asked coldly, “Whos waiting for you in London?”
“My girlfriend. I was going to propose. Youll like her.”
The flat was empty. Emilys thingsand Emilywere gone. Only the keys remained.
Lily, surprisingly, didnt gloat. She made tea, buttered toast.
Next day, they enrolled her in the local school, bought new clothes. They barely spoke, but by weeks end, shed made omelettes for breakfast.
“Brought you up right, your mum and gran,” he said.
She just shrugged.
They toured Londoncinema, rollerblading in Hyde Park. Slowly, the ice thawed.
Then work sent him to Singapore. Refusing meant career suicide. But Lily?
“Im not a baby,” she muttered.
“Yeah, but its *London*. You dont know it yet.”
“Ask Sophie from your office,” his mate Tom suggested. “Shes sweet on you.”
Sophie *was* sweetblushing whenever he walked by. She jumped at the chance to stay with Lily.
The two hit it off instantly, their laughter filling the flat.
Singapore passed in a blur. Oddly, he *missed* Lily. Called every day. Sophie always took the phone after, chatting brightly. Lily still hadnt forgiven him, but she wasnt pushing him away either.
Returning, he spotted them from the taxitwo figures by the door, almost like sisters. His chest tightened. No one had *ever* waited for him like that.
Lily stepped forward. He hugged her awkwardly; she didnt pull away. Sophie hovered, smiling. He wanted to hug her too.
“Gifts in my bag,” he said, grinning as they tore into the souvenirs.
Over dinner, they chattered non-stop, peppering him with questions. It felt… good.
Later, Sophie made to leave.
“*Dad*,” Lily said pointedly, nodding toward the hall.
*Dad.* First time shed called him that.
“Sophie, its late. Stay. Ive got more stories.”
Lily dragged Sophie to her room before she could protest.
That night, James lay awake. Life had flipped in weeks. Lily was *his* now. And Sophie… Sweet, easy Sophie, just a wall away. Too soon to say, but… why not try? She fancied him. And he… liked being near her. Maybe that *was* love.
