Beautifully Broken

Every soul carries its own script. In the grand, chaotic lottery of life, some find themselves wretched in love yet vastly fortunate in finance; for others, the scales tip quite the opposite way. No one truly knows what lies around the corner as they navigate the mundane.

Take Amy Brown. A corporate clerk marooned in a sea of solitude, her existence had long since settled into an unbreakable, cyclical routine. Clock in. Head to the hospital to sit by her father’s bedside. Arrive at the office, meticulously on time. Clock out. Return to the hospital. On the particularly exhausting nights, she’d simply collapse into sleep right there in the visitor’s chair. Round and round the wheel turned, relentless and unchanging.

Until the day Arthur was finally discharged, permitted to continue his recovery at home.

The morning sun filtered into the kitchen, casting a soft glow as Amy stood by the stove, preparing breakfast before the morning rush hour. Watching her silhouette, a father’s quiet anxiety finally found its voice.

“Amy, love... May I ask you something?”

Plating up the last of the eggs, Amy carried the dishes over, setting them onto the dining table before sliding into the chair opposite him. “Fire away,” she said lightly, cutting into her food. Arthur, however, hadn’t so much as touched his fork.

“Have you ever thought about... looking for someone? You know, for when I’m no longer here?” Amy froze. The food in her mouth suddenly felt heavy, her jaw locking in sheer disbelief at the finality of his words.

“Dad... that’s not bloody funny.”

Arthur reached across the table, his fingers gently gesturing upward near her chin, silently nudging her to finish chewing. Amy swallowed, allowing the familiar, comforting paternal gesture to ground her before she spoke.

“Right, what’s the verdict then?” Arthur smiled faintly, amused by the subtle scowl knitting her brow.

Amy took a slow sip of her tea to steady her voice. “Firstly, Dad, your sense of humour is atrocious. Secondly... I’ve thought about it, yes. But I haven’t acted on it because you need looking after. If I lose my focus on you because I’m distracted by someone else... I’d never forgive myself.”

A heavy silence settled over Arthur as he processed her words. There was no fault in her logic, yet it pierced his heart with a profound sense of guilt. “I’m on the mend now, Amy. You and the doctors have drilled the routine into me—I can look after myself. Besides, you’ve been taking care of me since you were nine years old. You’ve had no time for yourself.”

“I have plenty of time,” Amy interjected softly, her voice tightening. “Always. I just... I just can’t bear the thought of getting another one of those sudden phone calls. Like back then.”

“You won’t,” Arthur countered gently, cutting her off. “I promise I’ll follow the doctor’s orders to the letter. Just try, Amy... for me. Please.”

Amy let out a sharp, defeated sigh. “Brilliant. You know ‘please’ is my absolute weakness.”

Arthur offered a tender, grateful smile. He picked up his fork, turning to his breakfast—which had gone tragically cold, though he would have eaten cardboard if it meant respecting his daughter’s cooking. Amy, having cleared her plate, gathered her things to head for the sink.

“Leave them, pet. I’ll do the washing up,” Arthur said around a mouthful of toast. “Off you go, or you’ll be late.”

Amy paused, hovering over the table. “You sure?” Arthur nodded firmly.

“Alright then.” Amy leaned down, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek. “Love you!”

“Love you too, sweetheart. Drive safe.”

Moments later, Amy was behind the wheel of her trusty black saloon car, navigating the morning commute. She was making good time, allowing herself to get lost in the melancholic indie track drifting from the radio. Before she knew it, the car was parked, the security turnstile at the office had beeped her in, and she was sitting at her designated desk within the department.

Staring at her blank monitor, her father’s words echoed in her mind.

An introvert like me, finding a bloke on a dating app? Am I actually brave enough? Not a chance.

Yet, her fingers betrayed her thoughts. Beneath the edge of her desk, Amy opened the app store and hit ‘download’. Once the loading bar filled, she meticulously curated her profile—selecting the most flattering, effortlessly charming photos she could find. She followed the app’s tutorial step-by-step until she reached the precipice: the digital deck of eligible bachelors waiting to be swiped.

She was only three swipes in, smiling faintly at the screen, when a sharp rap on her desk shattered the illusion.

“What are we hiding there?”

It was Ruby, her colleague, leaning over with an inquisitive squint. Amy snapped her phone face-down against the desk in a flash. “What about you? What are you doing skulking around here?”

Ruby offered a sweet, entirely transactional smile, holding out an open palm. “Be an absolute star and let me borrow the proposal you drafted yesterday? I desperately need to hit this month’s target.”

Amy raised an eyebrow, entirely unamused by Ruby’s sheer audacity. “I thought you’d already bagged your targets during last week’s meeting. You certainly looked relaxed enough.”

Ruby’s smile tightened with irritation, but she maintained her polite veneer. “Just let me have a look at the proposal, Amy. I’ll hand it right back, promise.”

“And what exactly do I get out of—”

Ping. A distinct, unfamiliar chime cut Amy off mid-sentence. Her lock screen lit up with a notification from the dating app. Heart leaping into her throat, Amy snatched the phone and bolted upright. “Ask Edgar to walk you through the proposal framework. You’re brilliant, Ruby, you’ll smash it. Cheerio!”

Leaving a bewildered Ruby in her wake, Amy made a beeline for the corridor. She was supposed to head to the director’s office to clarify her weekly briefs, but privacy took absolute priority. She ducked into the ladies’ loos, locking herself safely inside a cubicle.

Breathing heavily, she unlocked her phone.

It was a match. One of the men she had just swiped on had instantly matched back, accompanied by a polite, charming greeting.

Amy opened her mouth to squeal, but caught herself, clapping a hand over her lips. Keep it together, Amy. Professional face on.

With trembling fingers, she typed out a quick, measured response. Knowing she couldn’t afford to be distracted all morning, she slid the phone into her back pocket, stepped out to casually wash her hands, and composed herself. Taking a deep breath, she walked out into the corridor, heading straight toward the formidable office of her boss, Elise.

Through the sleek glass partition, Amy could see her boss, Elise, deeply engrossed in a phone conversation with an unknown caller. Steeling her resolve, Amy gave a polite tap on the doorframe. Elise’s eyes darted toward her instantly, offering a swift, sharp nod that gestured for her to come inside.

Amy slipped into the room and settled onto the plush leather sofa.

“Right, splendid job. I’ll be in touch later,” Elise murmured into the receiver, her tone crisp and authoritative before she clipped the call.

She glided over, dropping into the armchair opposite Amy. Without breaking eye contact, Elise lifted a crystal decanter, pouring a generous measure of red wine into her glass. “I detect a distinct shift in the atmosphere today, Amy,” Elise remarked, taking a slow, deliberate sip.

Amy’s brow furrowed, a faint, guarded smile playing on her lips. Trust Elise to read her like an open book within seconds.

“It’s nothing,” Amy deflected smoothly, shifting in her seat. “I only popped in to check on Mrs. Dunn’s restaurant. How is she faring with the new strategy? Do I need to ring her to ensure the rollout is running smoothly? That’s all. Purely professional.”

Elise let out a soft chuckle, setting her empty glass down on the low table with a soft clink. “As for Mrs. Dunn, she’s absolutely over the moon. Foot traffic at the restaurant has skyrocketed, thanks to your strategy and the social media team. In fact... that was actually Kai on the phone just now. Mrs. Dunn wants to inject further capital into the corporation in exchange for a full promotional push for her new menu. She explicitly requested you to front the campaign, and I’m having Kai shoot the video package. What do you say?”

Silence stretched across the room. Amy sat frozen, the offer hanging heavily in the air. She was a marketer, a creature of data and strategy who strictly operated behind the scenes. The closest she had ever come to being on camera was an occasional, heavily filtered selfie for her private Instagram.

“Amy? Still with me?” Elise’s voice snapped her out of the trance.

Amy narrowed her eyes slightly. “Did Mrs. Dunn actually request me, or are you deliberately trying to force me out of my comfort zone?”

Elise simply offered a knowing, enigmatic smile at Amy’s immediate counter-interrogation.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling. The request came directly from the woman herself—Kai was just relaying the brief to me.”

Amy weighed the proposition in her mind for a beat, calculating the variables. “Well... provided there’s a rather handsome bonus reflecting in my bank account, I suppose I could be persuaded.”

Elise broke into a hearty laugh, thoroughly amused by Amy’s transactional pragmatism. “Agreed. As long as you deliver the goods.”

They exchanged a firm, professional handshake to seal the deal. Amy rose from the sofa and made for the exit, but just as her hand hovered over the brass doorknob, Elise cleared her throat rather pointedly. Amy paused, glancing back over her shoulder.

“Yes?” Amy asked, feigning utter innocence.

“I did say there was something quite different about you today,” Elise repeated, her sharp eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Am I permitted to know what it is?”

The question hung in the air, causing Amy to bite her lip, a telltale blush creeping up her neck. She stood in the doorway, hopelessly flustered, before finally finding her voice. “...Hypothetically speaking, what’s your verdict on people using dating apps to spark a romance?”

Elise paused, carefully choosing her words so as not to crush whatever fragile hope Amy had just kindled. “It’s hardly abnormal these days. Plenty of folk do it. I have a close friend who met her husband through one, actually. But I must issue a fair warning... not everyone strikes gold on those things. You ought to give it a go, though. If you never try, you’ll never know, will you?”

Elise’s encouragement made Amy smile despite herself.

“And what exactly makes you so certain that I’m the one using a dating app? I was merely asking a question,” Amy countered, trying to reclaim her composure.

Elise smirked, turning on her heel to walk back to her executive desk. “It’s written all over your face, love. Now, back to work. Give Kai a ring and sort out the details for Mrs. Dunn.” Amy flashed a quick, playful ‘OK’ sign with her fingers, slipped out of the office, and closed the door behind her.

Hours dissolved into the evening, finally bringing Amy back home. She was greeted by a sight that warmed her down to the bones: her father, Arthur, sitting contentedly in front of the television—a night-time ritual he hadn’t managed in far too long.

“Dad? Have you had any supper?” Amy asked, padding into the kitchen. She retrieved a carton of orange juice from the fridge and leaned against the counter, taking a long, grateful sip.

“...Aye, already sorted,” he replied, his eyes never straying from the screen. “Had some bangers and mash earlier.”

“And your medicine?” Amy pressed, moving toward the upper cabinet to inspect the blister packs.

“Done and dusted. Stop fretting, love.” A quick glance confirmed he was telling the truth; the nightly doses were exactly where they should be.

“Brilliant. I’m going to nip upstairs for a shower then.”

As Amy tossed the empty carton into the bin, Arthur clicked the television off. “Did you happen to meet anyone interesting today?”

The question caught Amy dead in her tracks. She poked her head around the kitchen wall, her face scrawled with mock irritation. “Dad, please...”

Arthur merely chuckled, a warm, soft sound. “Embrace the change, Amy. Life has a funny way of sorting itself out.”

Amy let out a dramatic sigh and left him to his thoughts, retreating upstairs. Yet, those words lingered. In the weeks that followed, something shifted inside her. The hesitation faded, replaced by late-night typing and shared laughs with a man she had met on the app.

And now, after weeks of digital anticipation, they were finally meeting in the flesh. Their chosen neutral ground was Monmouth Coffee, a bustling, iconic spot nestled in the heart of London.

“Excuse me... are you Devin? Devin Carter?”

Devin looked up from his phone to see Amy standing over him. He rose to his feet immediately, a welcoming smile breaking across his face. “Yes! And you must be Amy.”

Amy offered a shy smile as they took their seats opposite each other. “I am so sorry I’m late. Have you ordered yet?” Devin shook his head.

“I waited on purpose so we could go up together. What can I get you?”

“An iced latte with less sugar, please,” Devin nodded, heading to the counter to fetch their drinks.

With coffees in hand, the initial awkwardness quickly evaporated. They talked with a rare, effortless intensity—where they grew up, their careers, their quirks—until the café walls felt too small. Seeking fresh air, they wandered down to Mint Street Park.

Under the canopy of the London trees, their laughter echoed.

“...So that was the first and last time you ever cut your own hair?” Amy laughed, nodding vigorously. “What on earth happened at school the next day?”

Amy bit her lip, trying desperately to suppress another bout of giggles at the memory. “I begged my dad to let me play truant until it grew back! He ended up buying every hair-growth tonic in London just so I’d show my face in the classroom again.”

They laughed together, the atmosphere turning beautifully intimate. “...What about you?” Amy asked, looking at him intently. “What’s the most absurd childhood memory you still carry around?”

Devin paused, looking thoughtful. “I accidentally swallowed a fruit pip once. I can’t even remember what fruit it was, but my older brother convinced me that if you swallowed a seed and drank water before bed, a tree would start sprouting out of your ears.”

Amy gasped, thoroughly amused. “How long did you believe that for?”

Devin winced playfully, a look of pure, self-deprecating regret on his face. “...Until I was about ten. Mind you, I was only five when he told me.”

Amy broke into stitches. Their easy banter carried them deep into the night until the chilly London air reminded them of the hour.

“Blimey, it’s nearly eleven,” Devin noted, fishing his car keys from his pocket.

“Right then, let’s get you back to our car,” Amy said, standing up.

“I lead the way.” Amy walked slightly ahead, missing the fleeting look of bittersweet longing that crossed Devin’s face as he watched her.

They reached the parking meters where their cars were parked back-to-back. Amy lingered by her door, her hand resting on the handle as she looked back at him. Devin stood still, his gaze fixed on her.

“...If you ever change your mind about things... just let me know. Whatever it is,” Amy murmured gently.

She turned to step into her car, but Devin closed the distance between them. In one fluid, breathless motion, he pulled her in, catching her lips in a warm, deeply tender kiss.

When they finally parted, the weight of the moment hung beautifully between them.

“I’d really love to see where this goes, Amy. Would you?”

Amy didn’t speak; she simply nodded, a radiant smile gracing her lips.

“Grand,” Devin beamed, holding her car door open for her to ensure she was safely inside. “Ring me the second you get through the front door, yeah?”

He waited until her tail-lights vanished around the corner before turning over his shoulder, walking in the opposite direction toward his own car.

***

Life has a funny way of shifting beneath your feet. Change is a relentless tide, carrying you toward shores both beautiful and bleak. Yet, no matter how hard you try to read the horizon, the future remains entirely unpredictable.

It has been three months now. Three months of Amy and Devin revolving around one another like planets in a shared orbit, yet strangely, Devin hadn’t dropped a single hint about making things official.

Today, they were at the seaside. Amy preferred the sanctuary of her sun lounger, while Devin was out in the surf, splashing around with the other beachgoers. She watched him with a flat, unsmiling expression, utterly unmoved by his playful antics in the water. Her steady gaze was only broken when a sharp buzz echoed from Devin’s phone, which he had carelessly left on the blanket beside her.

Curiosity got the better of her. She reached out and tapped the screen twice, just enough to catch the preview notification. Only a name was displayed.

“Lily White,” Amy murmured to herself.

She slipped the phone back into its place just as Devin came jogging back up the sand, forcing a quick, synthetic smile onto her face before he noticed. Devin sank onto the beach towel, seizing his water bottle and draining it in one long, breathless gulp.

“Finished playing about then?” Amy asked, punctuating her words with a hollow little laugh.

“You’re missing out, you know,” Devin gasped, wiping his brow. “The water’s brilliant. I can still take you in if you change your mind...”

Amy merely shook her head, thoroughly exhausted by the repetition of the offer.

“What’s wrong?” Devin asked, shifting his weight to sit cross-legged, facing her directly.

Amy stayed silent. She offered a faint, tight-lipped smile, darting a brief glance at him before turning her eyes back to the crowded shoreline. Devin’s brow furrowed, his expression clouding with concern.

“...Are you alright? Has your dad rung?”

A bitter, mocking scoff escaped Amy’s lips at his question. The sudden sharpness caught Devin completely off guard, leaving him visibly bewildered.

“Is there something you want to talk about—”

“Yes,” Amy interrupted, her voice firm, slicing through his words. “What exactly are we doing here, Devin?”

Devin blinked, his confusion deepening. “What do you mean?”

Amy forced an unpleasant, strained smile to mask the irritation bubbling beneath her skin. “Three months. Three months of us fussing over one another. We’ve gone out every single week after clocking off from work, and in those three months... you’ve even kissed me. That is what I mean. What are we?”

Devin’s gaze dropped to the sand, a heavy, suffocating silence wrapping around him. He looked utterly paralyzed, unable to conjure a single syllable.

Amy watched his silence stretch, the realization piercing her heart. The anger arrived swiftly, but she channeled it into a cold, calculated calm. Without another word, she unzipped her canvas tote and began methodically packing away her things. Once everything was shoved inside, she turned on her heel and walked away.

Panic finally pierced Devin’s paralysis. He scrambled to his feet, throwing himself into a sprint to catch up. “Hey, look, hang on! We can talk about this!”

Amy halted, his desperate plea tethering her to the spot just long enough. She turned around slowly, her face an unreadable mask. “Talk then. I’m listening.”

She threw the gauntlet down, and the sudden challenge sent a tremor of sheer nervousness through Devin’s features. His jaw tightened, but no explanation came.

Amy let out a soft, humorless breath. “...Right. Let’s do this, then. When you finally figure out what it is you want from us, give me a ring. If I don’t hear from you... I’ll take it as a sign that we’ve failed to build anything. Either that, or I’ve simply failed to make you forget your past.”

She held his gaze for one final, agonizing second. “That’s my offer, Devin. Goodbye.”

With that, Amy turned and walked back into the crowd, her figure slowly dissolving into the seaside bustle. She left Devin standing entirely alone on the sand, marooned in his own guilt, drowning in the silence of a relationship he didn’t know how to save.

The aftermath of the coast left Amy hollow, staring mindlessly at her plate as dinner with Arthur went untouched.

Arthur watched her, his heart aching for his daughter. “Supper’s nearly over, Amy... do have a bite, even if it’s just a mouthful,” he urged gently. He had cleared his own plate long ago.

Amy glanced up, offering a faint nod as she mechanically cut into her food.

“That’s the thing about love, pet,” Arthur murmured softly. “It rarely arrives on cue. But at least you had a go. I won’t press you or ask about him or anyone ever again. Let’s just put it behind us—”

“You did nothing wrong, Dad,” Amy interrupted, her eyes fiercely loyal despite her cracking voice. “It’s my own fault. I simply expected too much from him.”

She finally forced a forkful of food into her mouth, coaxing a fragile, relieved smile from Arthur.

“You’ll find the right bloke, Amy. Don’t you worry. Now, let’s leave it be. Finish up your plate... I’m going to take my tablets.” Arthur rose from the table, gathering his dishes.

“Don’t do the washing up, Dad! Leave it for me... please,” Amy called out. Arthur complied, heading over to the kitchen cabinet to fetch his evening medication.

From that night on, Amy’s routine reverted to its old gravity. Though she had never neglected her father while she was with Devin, she now threw herself into caring for him with a fierce, almost desperate intensity. Yet, beneath the busywork, her mind kept wandering back to the ultimatum she had left on the sand. She wasn’t holding onto hope—not exactly—but she prayed, silently, for a miracle to touch her life. Wishful thinking, she’d tell herself, shaking it away.

A whole year dissolved in that quiet, aching limbo.

Then came a morning when Amy decided, on a whim, to break her routine. She fancied a proper coffee before heading to the office—something she never usually did. She wanted a distraction, a small indulgence to numb the lingering bitterness before a long day at her desk. Even the monstrously long queue winding out of the café door didn’t deter her; she stood her ground, waiting with practiced patience.

Her quiet resolve was shattered when someone blindly jolted into her from behind.

The sharp reprimand dying on Amy’s lips froze instantly. The man who had bumped into her was cradling a sleeping toddler in his arms. But it wasn’t just any stranger. She knew that face.

“Devin?” “Amy...”

Their voices collided, their gazes locking in a sudden, breathless paralysis. Before either could speak, a striking woman glided over, breaking the spell.

“Darling, why aren’t you sitting down? Our little one’s fast asleep,” the woman said softly.

Amy’s chest tightened. Her ears weren’t deceiving her. Devin was married. He had a family—a beautiful, slumbering little boy.

“...I was just... catching up with an old friend, Lily,” Devin stammered, his face turning entirely pale.

Lily turned her warm gaze toward Amy.

“Yes... this is Amy. Amy, this is Lily... my wife.”

Amy swallowed the lump in her throat, extending a trembling hand. She and Lily exchanged a brief, polite embrace. “Lovely to meet you,” Amy managed, her voice remarkably steady despite the world crumbling beneath her feet. “Look, I’m actually in a dreadful rush. Do take my spot in the queue, please. I insist. It was wonderful running into you... and he’s an absolutely darling boy, by the way.”

Forcing a bright, synthetic smile, Amy turned on her heel and practically fled the café.

“Well, wasn’t she lovely?” Lily smiled, turning back to her husband. “Right, find us a table and I’ll catch you up.” Devin nodded, his movements clumsy and wooden as he did what his wife asked. He was utterly suffocated by guilt, realizing the ghost of the past he had tried so hard to bury had just collided with the reality of the woman he had left stranded in the dark.

Reclaiming her composure at the office was a battle Amy was losing. What she had just witnessed in the café seemed to trigger a dark domino effect; it coincided brutally with her deepest anxiety—her father’s health, which had begun a steep, terrifying decline over the last few weeks.

The dam finally broke the moment Amy sat down at her desk. The tears spilled over, silent and violent, leaving her colleagues staring in bewildered concern at a girl who usually kept her armor so perfectly intact.

Trying to bury a ghost that was already dead only seemed to invite a fresh kind of haunting. A fool’s errand, Amy thought, and one that only complicates the living.

***