**The Best Friend**
“Happy birthday!” Emily handed her friend a gift bag.
“Thanks,” Charlotte said, kissing Emily on the cheek. “I’ll open it later, yeah? Come in.”
Emily stepped inside the flat, where a festively set table stood in the middle of the room. Near the window, two lads were deep in conversation.
“Meet my best friend Emily. We’ve known each other since school. That’s Oliver and Daniel—Oliver’s the one on the right,” Charlotte whispered in Emily’s ear. “Don’t mix them up. He’s my boyfriend.”
Both lads turned to look at Emily. The one Charlotte called Daniel gave her a friendly smile.
“Alright, you lot get acquainted. I’ll check on the roast before it burns,” Charlotte said, vanishing into the kitchen.
Emily froze, unsure what to do. Daniel saved her by circling the table and stepping closer.
“Oliver and I go way back too. Popped round his place earlier and ended up at his girlfriend’s birthday by accident.”
Up close, he was even more handsome.
The doorbell rang, and soon the flat filled with a boisterous crowd, making conversation impossible. At the table, Daniel sat beside Emily. His nearness and lingering glances made her flush. When the music started, he whispered an escape plan.
“Charlotte will be upset…”
“Relax, she won’t even notice we’re gone with this mob. Let’s go before she pops back in,” Daniel said, tugging her hand toward the door.
They wandered through London, discovering shared distastes for loud crowds. Later that night, Charlotte called, hurt that Emily had slipped away without a word.
They didn’t speak for days. Eventually, Charlotte showed up to make amends, admitting she and Oliver had split.
“You look miles away—what, fallen in love?” she teased, noticing Emily’s distant gaze.
“Sorry, but I’m just so happy! It’s all happened so fast,” Emily gushed. “Daniel proposed. We’re waiting till autumn for the wedding. You’ll be my maid of honour, won’t you? Char, I feel awful. You and Oliver brought us together, and now you’ve broken up. But you’ll find someone too.”
Charlotte had rotten luck with men. They flocked to her beauty like moths to a flame but lost interest before things got serious.
“Lots of girls look like her. You’re the only one,” Daniel said when Emily asked why he’d chosen her over glamorous Charlotte.
After the wedding, they moved into Daniel’s parents’ old flat. His parents had divorced three years prior—his father had left for another woman, and six months ago, his mother remarried and moved abroad.
“Lucky you, Em. Bagged a fit husband and a flat too. If I’d known sooner, I’d be Mrs. Daniels,” Charlotte sighed.
Emily hugged her. “Your turn will come.”
“Why does she keep coming round? You’re nothing alike,” Daniel asked once.
“We’re best friends. And I think she fancies you. She’s lovely, just unlucky in love.”
“Exactly. Unhappy people get jealous,” Daniel remarked.
Emily brushed it off, defending Charlotte. But later, she’d realize he was right.
One day, Charlotte visited, announcing a school reunion. Five years had passed—time to share life updates.
“What updates? We’ve barely started jobs!”
“Speak for yourself. You’re already married. Some are divorced. And Olivia Smith managed three kids—imagine?”
“How?!” Emily gasped.
“Easy. A girl first, then twins. Boring stuff. Anyway, it’s likely over Christmas. You’re coming, yeah?”
“Not my thing,” Emily muttered.
“You’ll break my heart if you don’t,” Charlotte threatened. “Daniel, you’ll let your wife go?”
“Wouldn’t dare stop her,” he said.
“I thought you’d defend me,” Emily joked.
“And have your mate call me controlling? Go on, just don’t stay out till dawn.”
The reunion was at a posh café, decked in fairy lights. Everyone boasted about careers, kids, or flings. Emily stayed quiet—happiness prefers silence.
Then she spotted Andrew Thatcher—her school stalker.
“You didn’t say he’d be here!” Emily hissed.
“Blame Ben, he organized it,” Charlotte said, dodging her glare.
Andrew beelined for them. Charlotte conveniently got “called away,” leaving Emily trapped.
“Remember me?” he breathed.
Emily shot Charlotte desperate looks until she finally intervened.
Outside, Emily fled, but Andrew leaped into her cab.
“Let me walk you home!”
“Stop!” she begged the driver. “Just go!”
They argued all the way to her door. Andrew followed her out.
“Leave me alone!” She wrenched free and dashed inside.
Daniel frowned at her flustered return. “Everything alright?”
“Just a headache from the noise.”
Days later, Andrew appeared at her doorstep with flowers. She slammed the door, ignoring his knocks.
That evening, Daniel found the bouquet. “These were outside. Who’s been here?”
“No one!” Emily lied, dumping them on a neighbour.
Daniel studied her. “You’d tell me if something was wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
The next day, Andrew ambushed her at work.
“Harassment’s a crime!” she snapped, binning his flowers.
He never returned. Neither did Charlotte. Emily didn’t miss her.
Just as peace settled, Emily discovered she was pregnant. She agonized before telling Daniel.
“You’re not happy?” he asked.
“I am! But I feared you’d doubt it was yours.”
“Don’t be daft.” He spun her around, laughing. “But no more secrets, yeah?”