Better Off Without You

I turned the key in the lock, only to find the flat wasnt mine. Strangers were lounging around, a child was fiddling with a toy on the sofa, and everything looked unfamiliar.

Excuse me, who are you? I asked, stunned.

Only when I spoke did the couple notice me. The husband tossed his tablet aside, the wife flung her phone onto the coffee table, and they lunged toward the hallway, intent on shoving me out.

Did you just barge in here and ask questions? the woman shouted. Get out, or well call the police!

What police? I live here! I protested.

Youre mistaken, lad, she snapped. Or perhaps youve got the wrong door?

—

Friday evening. I was idly nibbling on cold chips, wondering if Lucy would turn up. Shed grown weary of my disappearing acts. Her eyes fell on a small, colourful box on the shelf a tiny treat shed bought for herself, a reminder that you have to spoil yourself if no one else will. Lucy, her hair loose in soft waves, stared at her phone.

Paul, hi! Where are you? Its almost seven, she texted, hoping the bloke who finished work at four would be home. If he still had a job at all he was notorious for quitting once a month, or being let go.

Only I could always put up with her.

Ah, seven What, you bored? Ill be late, Im out with the lads, I replied, the noise of a bustling pub spilling into the call. Ill ring you later, alright?

Out with the lads Got it, Lucy replied. Guess Ill be eating alone then.

Ill try, I said, and the line dropped.

Try, she muttered under her breath, glancing at the clock.

She lingered a bit longer. By half past seven she knew my Ill try usually meant no promises. I showed up when I felt like it and left when the mood struck.

Four years. Four years together that felt like a rollercoaster at Blackpool Pleasure Beach: soaring highs when I was caring and devoted, and gutwrenching drops when I vanished without a word. After fights Id slip away silently, leaving Lucy weeping in a corner. Sometimes I missed work, sometimes I disappeared on weekends, treating it all as a minor inconvenience. For me it was just a night out or a quick apology later. For her it was a tide of tears.

Today was supposed to be her birthday celebration.

And I was late again.

Eight, nine, ten the numbers on the clock seemed to mock her. Shed washed the dishes, folded the laundry, even put on an old film we used to love. But those days when I was Paul were long gone.

The dinner plates moved from the table to the fridge; the clean cutlery was shelved.

At eleven, the phone rang again. This time it wasnt me. It was Charlie, my closest mate in all my escapades.

Lucy? You home? he asked, breathless.

Yeah, why are you calling? Wheres Paul? she replied.

Lucy we had a little runin, turned a corner badly. Pauls in A&E. Want the address? You coming over?

The world seemed to freeze. The birthday spread, the halfdrunk tea, the quiet film all dissolved into a thick fog of dread.

How serious is it? she asked.

Doctors havent said much. Im fine, just by the window. Come over, Ill text you the location.

Within half an hour Lucy, fists clenched, was in a black cab racing toward the city hospital. Id left her on her birthday, but if I died today… how would she cope?

She didnt see Charlie in the waiting room as promised. She wandered the corridors, feeling on the verge of fainting, searching for a familiar face. Then a burst of loud, unmistakable laughter echoed down the hallway.

She sprinted, heart pounding.

There they were me and Charlie, perched on a plastic chair outside a ward, holding our stomachs and guffawing. I was alive, a grin plastered on my face, the same wild look in my eyes that Lucy knew too well.

Lucy! Youve come! I shouted, wiping away tears, Gotcha, love. It was a joke! Youre always so trusting. I nicked my finger, thought wed have a laugh, and Charlie thought well, you get the idea.

If it werent for the real threat of a prison sentence, Id have sent him straight to the actual ICU.

Were just having a birthday prank, I added, voice flat.

Sure, a prank, she echoed, tone hollow.

We were about to drive home, you know, celebrate properly. What, you think wed just let you off the hook on your birthday? Charlie came up with it, brilliant, isnt it? I tried to pull her in, but she shoved me away. A birthday prank is the best thing you can think up, Lucy.

She slung her bag over her shoulder.

Im going, she said.

Where to? We were about to celebrate! I pleaded. Come on, well have a pint, no? Did someone call you?

You didnt invite me to celebrate

Come on, youd regret it, I muttered.

No, Im leaving, she repeated, firmer.

We stopped trying; they could have a good laugh without her.

Back home, Lucy dropped her coat, slipped into her nightgown, and tiptoed to the kitchen in the dark. The fridge was full, yet she had no appetite. She sat at the table, watching the clock tick, still in shock.

An hour later I walked in.

Lucy, whats wrong? Its just a joke! I sat on the opposite chair, reaching for her again.

A joke, I repeated, You know what, Paul, Im tired of your jokes.

I waved a chocolate bar in front of her.

Look what I brought as a peace offering. Dont be cross! Im young, I want to go out, not stay cooped up. Im not at fault that you dont agree with me, I snapped, though I hadnt actually invited her anywhere.

Im not holding you back, Paul, she said, standing, but I think Ill go out on my own, somewhere else. She glanced at her nightgown. Thats where Im headed.

Where to? curiosity and irritation tinged my voice.

Anywhere but here, she replied.

I hoped shed be upset, but she just shrugged.

Your wish, Your Highness. Ill go see Charlie then.

—

Three days passed without a word from me. Lucy kept to herself, the empty chair at the table, my halfread book on the bedside table, my favourite mug in the dishwasher all reminders of me.

On the fourth evening, as Lucy tried to unwind by painting a numbered picture, I burst in with a lavish bouquet of pink roses her favourite.

Hey, I said, I brought these. You liked them, right?

She stared, silent, not taking the flowers.

I know youre angry, I continued, stepping closer, Its your right. But Im not here to make excuses. Im young, I want a night out, not a night in. You know that about me. You said youd love anyone. Well, you know.

I know, she replied, Im fed up, Paul. I dont want to talk, and I dont need a cheap bouquet as a bribe.

Its not cheap

Whats the point of giving something you dont mean, just to get forgiveness?

I scoffed, Youre a homebody, I like to spice things up. No apologies needed.

I wont forgive you either.

But she did, eventually, after a few days of thawing. How could she live without me? Yet in those days she felt something strange. One morning, after a vivid dream, she felt nauseous. The next morning the same. She bought a pregnancy test two sticks, pink lines showing positive.

She didnt know how to tell me.

Fate seemed to intervene.

Shed long dreamed of a child, and Id always said I wanted one too. She thought maybe it would finally settle me down.

Paul, Im pregnant, she announced.

My face went through a kaleidoscope of shock, fear, and bewilderment.

So now youre pulling a prank on me?

No, look, she handed over the test, I know its sudden

What? A baby is happiness! I exclaimed, relief flooding my voice. I wasnt expecting this, but everything will change, trust me!

The next day I vanished again, this time for a whole week. Id gone with Charlie to a country house to celebrate the news, with a few other mates and, as it turned out, my exgirlfriend, Katie.

Lucy was left alone with the news that should have transformed our lives. She tried calling, but my phone was dead. She finally realised nothing would ever change.

When I finally returned, I had a lavish bouquet, hoping to smooth over my weeklong disappearance. But I didnt come back home. I stood at a door, key in hand, and the flat wasnt mine. A child was laughing on the couch, strangers surrounded us.

Excuse me, who are you? I asked, bewildered.

Only when I spoke did the couple notice. The husband dropped his tablet, the wife flung her phone, and they rushed toward the hallway to push me out.

Did you just walk in here and ask questions? the woman shrieked. Get out, or well call the police!

What police? I live here! I protested.

Youre mistaken, lad, she replied. Or perhaps youve got the wrong door?

A man nearby muttered, How did my key fit this door? Thief? Or Ive heard of flats being let to several tenants. Must call He pulled out his phone.

I dialed the landlord.

Mr. Thompson! Whats going on? Whos in my flat?

Silence answered.

Paul, youve moved out Lucy told me a week ago you were leaving, so I handed the place over. The deposit went back to her. What now?

What? Lucys gone? Moving out? I was stunned. She loved sudden disappearances, but this was different.

I stood on the stairwell, bouquet still in my hand, as they finally ushered me out. A neighbour, Vicky, approached, holding two large gym bags.

Hey Paul, she said, handing them over, Lucy left these with me. She said youd collect them.

I took the heavy bags they were full of my things.

I drove to Lucys mother, Mrs. Clarke, certain Lucy would be with her.

Mrs. Clarke met me at the door, adjusting her glasses, eyes tired. What do you want, Paul? she asked. Ive been calming Lucy for a week.

I need to see Lucy. Shes pregnant. I have to talk to her.

She softened, thinking of the grandchild, and said, Come in. Im not thrilled about her being a single mother, but you may speak to her.

She led me to Lucys room. I barged in, accusation ready.

Relaxing? Good for you. Meanwhile, Im homeless, my roof nearly collapsed, and youre nowhere to be found. This cant happen again

Lucy barely raised an eyebrow.

When was the last time you paid the rent, Paul? she snapped. You never thought about bills, groceries, or a roof over your head. You vanished for weeks, then expected a warm welcome. Welcome to reality: you have to pay rent, buy pasta, and nobodys waiting with open arms every minute.

I came to talk, not to be lectured, I muttered, kicking the door as I left.

I tried borrowing money from friends Charlie, others but everyone refused. Its fun to be a mate, not to hand over cash to someone who blows it the first week after payday.

Late that night, exhausted, I returned to Mrs. Clarkes house. Lucy barred me, but Mrs. Clarke stepped out.

Lucy, you cant just throw him out, she said, pity in her voice. The child needs a father. Hes a bit flighty, but you have to guide him.

Mum

Lucy, he can stay here for the night. Then youll decide how to raise the child.

I stayed. Mrs. Clarke set a condition: If you want to stay, you wont be out partying. Marry Lucy, think of the babys future.

I agreed. It seemed things might finally change. I stopped vanishing, even helped Lucy shop. That lasted only a short while.

One afternoon, while Lucy was at work, Mrs. Clarke returned early. The bedroom door was ajar, a soft whisper drifting out. She peeked inside within seconds a girl screamed and bolted out.

Mrs. Clarke! I I lunged after her.

Look, Mrs. Clarke said, shaking her head, better without a father like him