He wouldn’t even answer my calls, unwilling to listen to my side. My ex-husband, James, had painted me as the villain, convincing Harry that I had abandoned them both.
“Lucy, are you alright?” Miss Kinsley’s voice brought me back to reality in her pristine home.
“Oh, yes, Miss Kinsley,” I quickly replied, wiping a tear away and offering a faint smile. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”
She studied me closely, her gaze softening but still carrying a quiet authority. “Lucy, I think we need to have a serious talk.”
Her words hit me hard, my heart racing in anticipation of what she would say next.
“Please, Miss Kinsley,” I pleaded, voice trembling. “I’ll do better. I know I’ve been slow, but I’ll work faster. I’ll keep it upbeat, I swear.”
Her eyes softened with sympathy but there was a sadness behind them. “It’s not just about speed, Lucy. My son has noticed. He needs someone who can bring light into the house. Someone who can lift the mood.”
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak.
“This job means everything to me, Miss Kinsley. Please… I’ll do better.”
She sighed, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. Her voice softened. “Lucy, sometimes holding on too tightly doesn’t help us heal. Letting go is hard, but it opens new doors. I hope you find happiness again. I truly appreciate all you’ve done.”
I nodded quietly, barely able to whisper, “Thank you.”
Outside, memories of simpler times flooded my mind—back in high school, when my biggest worry was what to wear or how to survive another pop quiz.
Life had seemed easy then, but now, it felt like I was carrying a weight I could barely bear.
A loud car horn broke my thoughts. I looked up just in time to see a car speeding toward me, splashing water as it barreled through a puddle.
Frozen, unsure whether to step back or leap forward, I instinctively jumped, landing in the muddy water.
The car screeched to a halt just inches from me, and I found myself soaked, sitting on the pavement.
The driver, a man in a sharp suit, stormed out, his face filled with anger. “Are you blind? You could’ve dented my car!” he yelled.
Embarrassed and shivering, I struggled to stand. “I’m sorry,” I stammered, my cheeks burning as the cold mud seeped through my clothes.
The man eyed me with disdain. “Do you have any idea how much this car is worth?”
Before I could answer, a new voice interrupted. “Glen, enough.” The back door of the car opened, and a tall man stepped out, dressed just as sharply.
His gaze softened when he saw me, a mix of concern and sympathy. Ignoring Glen’s protests, he came toward me.
“Are you hurt?” he asked gently.
For a moment, his kindness took me by surprise, offering comfort amidst the chaos.
“I think I’m okay,” I replied, my voice shaky. His calm presence made me feel safe.
“Please,” he said, extending his hand. “Let me make sure you’re alright. Come with us, and we’ll get you somewhere warm.”
I hesitated but something about him made me feel at ease. He helped me into the backseat, his steady demeanor making me feel more than just a stranger to him.
We drove to an imposing mansion—a beautiful structure I never imagined stepping into.
Noticing my awe, the man chuckled softly. “It’s a bit much, isn’t it?”
“A bit,” I admitted, still in wonder. “But it’s beautiful.”
Inside, everything gleamed. Polished marble floors reflected the glow of chandeliers.
He led me to a cozy sitting room, offering a comfortable chair by the fire.
“Please, make yourself at home,” he said before disappearing briefly and returning with a cup of steaming tea.
“I thought you might like something warm,” he said kindly.
I cradled the cup, the warmth soothing me in ways I hadn’t expected.
Soon, a middle-aged man entered the room. The man introduced him as his personal doctor, William, who checked my minor injuries.
“Nothing serious,” William reassured me with a smile. “Just a few scratches.”
I felt relief flood through me. “Thank you, Doctor.”
Turning to the man, I handed him my empty teacup, still overwhelmed by the kindness I’d received.
“I should go now,” I said quietly. “I can’t thank you enough.”
But he raised a hand, signaling me to stay. “Please, Lucy. It’s been too long. Stay a little longer.”
Surprised, I blinked. “Wait… you know my name?”
A warm smile spread across his face. “Do you… remember me?”
I stared at him, a familiar feeling stirring. Then it clicked.
“George? George from high school?”
His grin grew wider. “The one and only. It’s been twenty-eight years, Lucy, and you’re just as beautiful as ever.”
I laughed, shocked. “I can’t believe it’s really you! After all these years… where has life taken you?”
We spent hours reminiscing about high school days—doodles in notebooks, secret trips to the diner, narrowly escaping detention.
As we laughed, it felt like the weight of the world had lifted, even if just for a moment.
Eventually, George became more serious. “So, how has life been for you?” His voice was gentle but probing.
I hesitated but found it easier to talk to him than anyone in a long time. I told him about my divorce, my son’s silence, and losing my job.
“It’s been tough,” I admitted. “I’ve lost everything I thought I had.”
George’s hand found mine, warm and steady. “I’m so sorry, Lucy. I wish things had been different.”
I wiped a tear away. “Sometimes, I wish they had been, too. But life… life has a way of surprising us.”
George’s face softened. After a moment, he looked at me with quiet intensity.
“Do you remember the last night after prom? I told you I loved you, and you said it wouldn’t work because we’d be going to different cities?”
I nodded, the memory rushing back. “I remember.”
“I’ve thought about that night a lot,” he said, his voice tender. “Wondering… what if?”
He took a deep breath, then smiled gently. “We can’t change the past, Lucy. But we have now. We’re here, together, after all these years. Maybe that means something.”
I looked at him, feeling hope stir for the first time in so long.
“Maybe it does,” I said softly, a small smile breaking through.
The silence between us was comfortable as he squeezed my hand.
“We can’t change the past,” he said, his voice low but hopeful. “But maybe we can start something new.”
I laughed softly, the sound unfamiliar yet warm.
“Are you asking me out, after all this time?”
“Maybe I am,” he said, a smile that made my heart flutter. “How about dinner? Nothing fancy—just two old friends catching up.”
The thought warmed me, offering a spark of something new and hopeful.