Better Off Without You

He slipped his key into the lock, turned it, and stepped inside only to find the flat wasn’t his at all. Strangers were lounging on the couch, a toddler was squealing with a toy, and everything looked foreign.

“Excuse me, who are you?” Paul blurted, eyes wide.

Only when he spoke did anyone notice him. A man and his wife flung their tablets and phones aside, rushed into the hallway and shoved him toward the door.

“You’re not supposed to be here!” the woman shouted. “Get out, or we’ll call the police!”

“The police?” Paul protested. “I live here!”

“Wrong flat, mate!” she replied. “Did you even pick the right door?”

***

It was Friday evening. Lucy was poking at a cold roast potato, hoping Paul would finally turn up. She was fed up with his endless disappearances. She glanced at the little gift box on the shelf a tiny treat shed bought for herself, because no one else was going to spoil her. Her hair, usually a sleek bob, was today a loose wave as she stared at her phone.

“Paul, hi! Where are you? It’s almost seven” she texted, remembering he’d usually finish work at four. That was, of course, if he actually had a job he liked quitting every month, or getting sacked.

She was always the one who put up with his antics.

“Seven already? Are you bored?” Paul’s voice buzzed back, a pub’s clatter in the background. “I’m out with the lads. I’ll call you later, yeah?”

“Out with the lads right,” Lucy replied, sighing. “Guess I’ll be eating alone.”

“Don’t worry, Ill try,” he said, and the call cut off.

She muttered “I’ll try” under her breath, watching the clock tick.

Half past seven. She knew Pauls “I’ll try” usually meant “no promises.” He came and went whenever he fancied.

Four years. Four years together, a rollercoaster of highs when Paul was sweet and attentive, and crushing lows when he’d vanish without a word. He’d bail after fights, disappear on weekends, or just not show up from work. For him it was no big deal a night out, an apology later. For Lucy it was endless tears.

But today was supposed to be her birthday, and Paul was MIA again.

Eight, nine, ten The numbers on the clock mocked her. Shed washed the dishes, folded the laundry, even put on that old film theyd watched together once. But those days when Paul was “her Paul” were long gone.

Dinner was shoved into the fridge. Clean dishes sat on the shelf.

Around eleven the phone rang again. This time it wasnt Paul it was Kyle, his best mate.

“Lucy? You home?” he gasped, sounding out of breath. “We got into a bit of a scrape. Pauls been taken to A&E. Want the address? You could go see him.”

Lucys world froze. The birthday feast, the halffinished tea, the quiet movieall dissolved into a thick fog of dread.

“Is he serious?” she asked.

“I dont know, they havent said much. Im fine, just by the windows. Come over, Ill text you the location.”

A half hour later Lucy, fists clenched, was in a cab racing to the city hospital. Paul had ditched her on her birthday, and now she was racing to see if hed die.

She didnt meet Kyle at the reception he had promised to wait. She staggered through corridors, feeling like she might faint, looking for someone, anyone. Then she heard a boisterous laugh echo down a hallway.

She bolted.

There, in a drab waiting room, sat Paul and Kyle on plastic chairs, clutching their stomachs and roaring with laughter. Paul looked as unscathed as ever, that reckless spark in his eyes that Lucy knew all too well.

“Lucy! You made it!” Paul shouted, wiping away tears. “Gotcha! We were just pulling your leg. Think youre that gullible? Jokes on us. I nicked my finger, and Kyle thought wed have a laugh.”

If she wasnt already fed up, shed have sent them straight to the actual A&E.

“Joke,” Lucy repeated, voice flat.

“Yeah, a proper one,” Paul went on, trying to hug her. She pushed him away. “Birthday pranks are the best, aren’t they?”

She slung her bag over her shoulder. “Im going.”

“Where to? We were about to celebrate!” Paul tried to stop her. “Come on, well have a proper party. Did someone call you?”

“You didnt invite me to celebrate,” she snapped.

“Come on, youd be missing out,” Paul pleaded.

“Im leaving,” she said louder. No more coaxing. They could have their fun without her.

Back home, Lucy slipped off her coat, revealing a cosy nightdress, switched off the lights, and shuffled to the kitchen. The fridge was full, but she didnt feel like eating. She sat at the table, watching the clock tick, still in shock.

An hour later Paul wandered back in.

“Lucy, it was just a joke!” he said, taking a seat opposite her, trying to hug her again like hed done in the hospital.

“Joke,” she repeated, “Im tired of your jokes.”

He waved a chocolate bar in front of her. “Look what I got you, peace offering. Come on, dont be mad. Im young, I want to have fun, not stay cooped up. Im not the one who cant accept that you dont want to be with me.”

“Im not holding you back, Paul,” Lucy stood, “but I need somewhere else to go. Ill just head out now” She glanced at her nightdress. “Exactly that.”

“And where are you off to?” Paul asked, curiosity tinged with annoyance.

“Anywhere but here,” she replied.

He tried to sound polite. “As you wish, Your Highness. Ill go see Kyle then.”

***

Three days passed with no Paul. Lucy didnt call, he didnt call. She kept busy, tried not to think about him, but his empty chair, his halfread book on the nightstand, his favourite mug in the dishwasher everything reminded her of him.

On the fourth night, Lucy was unwinding with a paintbynumbers kit when Paul barged in with a huge bouquet of soft pink roses her favourite.

“Hey,” he said, handing them over, “I brought these. You love them.”

Lucy stared silently, not taking the flowers.

“I know youre angry,” Paul continued, stepping closer, “you have a right to be. Im not here to excuse myself. Im young, I want to have a good time. You once said youd love anyone. You know that.”

“I know,” Lucy said, “Im fed up, Paul. I dont want to talk, and I dont need this cheap peace offering.”

“Its not cheap” he tried.

“What difference does it make if its given without feeling?” she snapped. “Ive forgiven you so many times, but I wont now.”

He kept pressing, but she finally let it go. After a few days she thawed a little and forgave him. She wondered how she could keep going without Paul. Then the nausea started. Morning after morning, a slight queasy feeling, odd fatigue. She bought a pregnancy test. Two lines.

She didnt know how to tell Paul.

Fate seemed to step in.

Shed always wanted a child, and Paul kept saying he wanted one too. Maybe this would finally ground him.

“Paul, Im pregnant.”

Pauls face went through a whole palette shock, fear, confusion.

“Now youre pulling a prank on me?” he blurted.

“No, look,” she handed him the test, “I know its sudden”

“Are you serious? A baby is joy!” Paul exclaimed, brightening. “I was losing hope. This could change everything, trust me!”

But the next day he vanished again, this time for a whole week. Hed gone with Kyle to a cottage in the Cotswolds to celebrate the news, with a few mates and, as it turned out, his exgirlfriend, Katie.

Lucy was left alone, holding news that should have reshaped their lives. She tried calling him; his phone was off. It hit her then nothing would ever change.

When Paul finally returned, he had another lavish bouquet, hoping to make up for his weeklong disappearance. But he didnt come back to their flat. He stood on a different doorstep.

He turned the key, only to find a strangers flat. A child was on the sofa, unfamiliar faces all around.

“Sorry, who are you?” Paul asked, stunned.

Only when he spoke did a couple notice him. The husband and wife dropped their devices and lunged at him.

“This is our flat! And youre asking?” the woman shouted. “Get out, or well call the police!”

“The police?” Paul repeated. “I live here!”

“Youre wrong, lad!” she retorted. “Did you get the wrong door?”

“What? Wrong door?” a man muttered, eyeing Paul. “Thief? Or… Ive heard of scams where flats are rented to multiple people. Could be a mixup. Better call…”

Paul fumbled for his phone, dialing the landlord.

“Ivan, whats happening? Whos in our flat?” he asked.

Silence. Then a voice answered, “Paul, you moved out Lucy told us shed left a week ago. Ive relet the place. Its empty now. The deposit went back to her. What do you want?”

“What? Lucy… left?” Paul was shellshocked. She loved disappearing, but this was new.

He stood on the stairwell with the bouquet still in his hand, being escorted out. A neighbour, Vicky, approached with two heavy gym bags.

“Hey Paul,” she said, handing over the bags. “Lucy left these with me. Said you should collect them.”

Paul took the bags, heavy with his stuff, and headed to Lucys mother, Lidia, hoping shed know where Lucy was.

Lidia, adjusting her glasses, asked, “What do you want, Paul? Ive been trying to keep Lucy calm.”

“I need to talk to Lucy,” he said. “Shes pregnant. I need to see her.”

She softened, recalling that a grandchild was on the way, and let him in.

“Come in,” she said. “Im not thrilled about her being on her own, but you can apologise.”

Paul barged into Lucys room, angry, “Youre just lying there? Ive got no roof, and youve vanished! How can I be here when everythings changed?”

Lucy, fed up, shot back, “When was the last time you paid the rent, Paul? You never thought about the bills or groceries. You disappear for weeks, then expect everything to be ready for you. Welcome to reality you have to work for your rent, buy your own pasta and bread, and no ones waiting with open arms just because you show up.”

“I came to talk, not to be lectured!” Paul snapped, kicking the door as he left.

He tried borrowing money from friendsKyle, othersbut everyone turned him down. Nobody liked lending to someone who blew through a paycheck in a week.

Late that night, exhausted, Paul returned to Lidias house. Lucy wouldnt let him in, but Lidia emerged.

“Lucy, you cant just kick him out,” she said, pitying Paul. “A child needs a dad. Hes a bit lost, but you should guide him.”

“Mom” Lucy began.

“She can stay here for the night. Youll figure out what to do about the baby later.”

Lidia set a condition: “If you want to stay, no more nights out. Marry Lucy. Think about the child.”

Paul agreed, seeming to turn a corner. He stopped disappearing, even helped with groceries. But it didnt last.

One afternoon, while Lucy was at work, Lidia came home early. The bedroom door was ajar, whispering sounds drifted out. She peeked inside after a few seconds, a girl burst out screaming.

“Lidia!” the girl cried. Paul leapt up too.

“Off with her,” Lidia muttered, “Better without a father like this”