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Lucy once thought she had a loving family and a happy life. But after the divorce —she had nothing. It felt like there was nothing left for Lucy in this world. But then, everything changed when a car nearly hit her. That’s when she met a long-lost friend, and her life began to take a new turn.
As I looked at that family photo, the laughter seemed almost to echo in my mind, taunting me with what I’d lost.
Dusting off the photo, I took in the happiness on their faces—such easy, carefree smiles, all together and at peace.
I swallowed hard, feeling the sting of tears as I thought about Harry, my own son, who was lost to me now.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He wouldn’t even answer my calls, and wouldn’t hear my side of the story. My cheating husband James had made sure of that, convincing him I was the one who left, that I had abandoned them.
“Lucy, is everything alright?” Miss Kinsley’s voice startled me, pulling me back to the reality of her spotless home.
“Oh—yes, Miss Kinsley,” I said, quickly wiping my eyes and forcing a small smile.
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“I’m fine. Just a little… tired.”
She studied me with a gentle but firm look, her head tilting slightly as if weighing her words.
“Lucy, I know you’ve had a tough time lately,” she said softly, stepping closer. “But I think it’s time we had a talk.”
The words hit me like a stone. I felt my heart pound, knowing what might come next.
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“Please, Miss Kinsley,” I said, my voice almost breaking, “I’ll do better, I swear. I know I’ve been slow, but I’ll work faster, I’ll keep it cheerful. I promise.”
She looked at me, a sad sympathy in her eyes.
“It’s not just about speed, Lucy. I can see that you’re hurting, and I know you’re doing your best. But… my son notices these things, and I need someone who can bring a bit of lightness into the house, you understand?”
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I swallowed, my throat dry.
“This job… it means everything to me, Miss Kinsley. Please… I’ll do better.”
She sighed, her hand moving to my shoulder. Her voice softened, almost motherly.
“Lucy, sometimes holding on doesn’t help us heal. Letting go is hard, but it can open doors you don’t see yet. I truly hope you find your joy again. I’m very grateful for all you’ve done, and I mean that.”
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I forced myself to nod, managing a quiet, “Thank you,” though every word felt like another crack in the fragile shell of my life.
As I stood at the crosswalk, memories of simpler times kept my mind busy. I thought back to high school, where my biggest problems were homework or worrying about silly crushes.
Life had seemed so straightforward then. But now, it felt as if I was constantly carrying a weight too heavy to bear.
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Suddenly, the loud honking of a car snapped me out of my thoughts. My heart pounded as I saw the vehicle speeding toward me, splashing through a puddle.
I froze, unsure whether to step back or dart forward. In a split second, I decided to jump forward, landing right in the muddy water.
The car screeched to a halt inches away, but I was soaked, sitting in the cold, dirty water on the pavement.
The driver, a man in an expensive suit, threw his door open and stormed out, his face twisted with irritation.
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“Are you blind? You could’ve dented my car!” he shouted, his voice laced with anger and annoyance.
Embarrassment flushed through me as I struggled to my feet. “I—I’m sorry,” I stammered, my cheeks burning as the cold mud seeped through my clothes.
He looked at me in disdain, shaking his head.
“Do you even know how much this car is worth?”
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Before I could respond, another voice rang out.
“Glen, stop it.” The back door opened, and a man stepped out, tall and dressed sharply.
His expression softened as he looked at me, a mixture of concern and sympathy in his eyes. He walked over, ignoring Glen’s protests.
“Are you hurt?” he asked gently, his eyes meeting mine.
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His tone was so warm, almost as if he genuinely cared about me—a complete stranger, drenched and miserable.
I shook my head, still stunned.
“I think I’m okay,” I managed, though my voice was unsteady. The man’s presence was oddly comforting, like a lifeline on this terrible day.
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“Please,” he said, offering his hand, “let me make sure you’re alright. Come with us, and we’ll get you somewhere warm where you can dry off.”
I hesitated, unsure of what to say or do, but something about him felt safe.
He opened the door and helped me into the backseat, his calm, reassuring manner making me feel less like a burden and more like someone who mattered.
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We pulled up to an enormous house, a mansion that seemed to stretch for miles, towering and elegant.
It was the sort of place I had only seen in magazines, not a place I’d ever expected to be welcomed into.
The man noticed my awe and chuckled softly.
“It’s a bit much, isn’t it?” he said with a small grin.
“A bit,” I admitted, trying to hide my amazement. “It’s beautiful, though.”
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He led me inside, where everything seemed to gleam.
The floors were polished marble, reflecting the soft light from chandeliers that hung above.
George gently guided me to a spacious sitting room and offered me a cozy chair by the fireplace.
“Please, make yourself comfortable,” he said, disappearing briefly before returning with a cup of tea.
“I thought you might want something warm.”
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I nodded, wrapping my hands around the cup and savoring the warmth. It felt like a little bit of comfort on a day that had otherwise been so difficult.
Soon after, a middle-aged man entered the room. George introduced him as his personal doctor, William, who kindly examined my injuries.
William inspected the few scrapes on my hands and arms with a gentle touch, his eyes crinkling with a reassuring smile.
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“Nothing serious here,” William said finally.
“A few scratches, but you’ll be just fine.”
Relief washed over me.
“Thank you, Doctor,” I said, my voice filled with genuine gratitude.
Turning back to George, I handed him the empty teacup.
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“I should probably go now. I can’t thank you enough for everything,” I murmured, feeling a bit shy.
But George held up a hand, signaling for me to stay.
“Please, Lucy,” he said softly. “It’s been too long since we last saw each other. Stay a bit longer.”
I was taken aback.
“Wait… you know my name?” I asked, my mind racing.
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George’s smile widened, and he leaned back, his gaze warm and steady. “Do you… remember me?” he asked, his tone hopeful yet soft.
I squinted, examining his face. There was something familiar in his eyes, that twinkle I’d once known so well.
“Wait… George? George from high school?”
He chuckled, looking pleased.
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“The one and only. It’s been twenty-eight years since graduation, Lucy, and you’re just as beautiful as ever.”
I laughed, feeling my cheeks flush.
“Oh, stop it! I can’t believe it’s really you. All this time… where did life take you?”
We settled into the comfort of old friends, reminiscing about high school and the silly adventures we’d had.
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George remembered everything, it seemed—the way I used to doodle on his notebook, the way we’d sneak out to go to the diner after school, even the time we almost got caught skipping class.
We laughed about the good times, forgetting for a moment all the heavy things in life.
Finally, he looked at me with a serious expression, leaning forward a little.
“So, how has life been for you?” he asked, his tone gentle.
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I hesitated, but his kindness made it easy to be honest. I took a deep breath and told him about my recent struggles—the divorce, how my son wouldn’t speak to me, and how I’d lost my job that very day.
“It’s been… tough,” I admitted, looking down at my hands. “Everything I thought I had just slipped away.”
George reached across and took my hand, his fingers warm and steady.
“I’m so sorry, Lucy. I wish things had been different for you. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”
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I shrugged, though my eyes stung a little.
“Sometimes I wish things had gone differently, too. But life… well, it has a way of surprising you, doesn’t it?”
George’s face softened even more. He looked down thoughtfully before meeting my eyes.
“Do you remember our last night after prom? I told you I loved you,” he said quietly, “and you told me that it wouldn’t work because we’d be moving to different cities.”
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The memory rushed back to me, bringing a bittersweet pang. “I remember,” I whispered, looking away for a moment.
“I’ve thought about that night so many times. Wondering what if… what if I had stayed.”
He nodded, his voice quiet but full of something warm and hopeful.
“We can’t change the past, Lucy. But we have now. We’re here, sitting together, after all these years. Maybe that means something.”
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I looked back at him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a flicker of hope.
“Maybe it does,” I murmured, a small smile finding its way to my face.
We sat there in silence for a moment, the memories of our past filling the space between us. George squeezed my hand gently, breaking the silence.
“We can’t go back and change those years, Lucy,” he said softly.
“But we’re here now. Maybe we can pick up where we left off?”
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I laughed, the sound almost foreign to my ears.
“Are you asking me out after all these years?”
“Maybe I am,” he replied, his grin warm and hopeful.
“How about dinner? Nothing fancy. Just two old friends catching up.”
The thought brought a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time.
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“I’d like that,” I said. “But only if you promise not to run me over again.”
He chuckled.
“Deal. No more near-misses.”
Just a day before, I had felt lost, but now, sitting here with George, I saw a glimpse of the life I thought I’d lost forever.
I never imagined that an accident could turn into such a blessing. Life really did have a funny way of surprising us, especially when we least expected it.
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