As Jonny McIntyre let the back door of his local boozer swing behind him, he was sure he was slamming it shut on the biggest mistake he’d ever made. What Jonny didn’t know, though, was his mistake was just a chapter in a story that spanned over two decades. He’d later find out it was just a mere bump in the road — a story that was driven by an obsession and a deep desire for revenge.
And he’d found himself entangled in it for what? Lust? To feel wanted again? To be wrapped up in the excitement of something new?  
Right now, he was seeing it for what it was. He’d been weak and stupid and naïve. At first, it had been nothing but a bit of harmless fun. But as feelings had got in the way, the hole Jonny found himself in had only got deeper and deeper. His white lies had grown like a fungal infection and by the end, they were obvious and ugly, growing as they fed on his acts of deception and greed.
Nine months it had gone on for. 
Nine months too long.
But now it was over. Or, at least, so he hoped.
That was what Jonny was thinking about as he flung himself into his beat-up Vauxhall Corsa, wanting to make a quick getaway. The weather had other ideas. The rain and cold had created a blanket of condensation that lay over his windows like layers of soggy paper. He turned the ignition, fired up the fans and got them working overtime to drive it away.
In the meantime, all he could do was listen to the rain that had swept in. It was heavy now, the type of rain that kept people indoors. The type of rain that comes as standard during the miserable British winter. 
But like most folk, Jonny had conflicting feelings about this weather. On one hand, he’d be chief among the moaners if it fucked with his work on the construction yard. Yet, on the other, there was something ironically cosy and warm about it at this time of year, just before Christmas. Jonny would take pleasure in listening to the rain do its thing from a safe and dry place, zoning out to its taps against the window. It took him right back to his earliest memories as a child when his mum would read fairytales to him from the edge of his bed, the radiator humming away, the elements doing their thing against his bedroom window.
That was a long time ago now — a time when Jonny had no responsibilities, problems, or worries. A time when someone else would help him mop his troubles up.
Not like now. 
Over the last few months, Jonny had really fucked things up, and no one was coming to save him. He needed to fix this himself. As the condensation peeled away, he thought about how he didn’t deserve Liz. She was too good for him. He’d always known that. There had been plenty of times he’d wondered what she was doing with him in the first place.
Because I love you, silly, she used to tell him when his insecurities got the better of him, more often than not when he’d had an ale too many.
And yet, Jonny had taken her love for granted. Betrayed it. He’d spend a lifetime trying to make up for it if Liz could truly allow him. No one would blame her if she couldn’t.
That fear lingered as his windows finally cleared. Before setting off, Jonny scanned the pub’s exterior one last time. As he hoped, the rain was keeping everyone indoors, including her — everyone except two silhouettes that were huddled together under a canopy, sharing a cigarette by the door that had slammed behind him.
Safe in that knowledge, he pulled away, the lights of his car cutting into the night.
 

***

You wouldn’t be able to tell Christmas was just a matter of weeks away if you swung on to Wayborough Falls.
Aside from the Kings over at number 19, who put in a bit of effort with their external decorations, nobody else bothered. 
Not like those who live on Fenton Crescent, which was on the same estate as Wayborough Falls, but just a little further down the main road that was Bishops Drive. You couldn’t miss Fenton Crescent, lit up like a Christmas show and tell every single year, which reminded Jonny of that Christmas film, Deck The Halls, with Danny DeVito and Matthew Broderick.
Instead, Wayborough Falls continued to live a plain existence. It was a far less fancy stretch of road than the name would have you believe, with its one and two-bed houses bunched together shoulder to shoulder, set back off a cracked and scarred pavement and streetlights that barely had enough energy to muster a flicker. Had Wayborough Falls been a person, it would have had a paper bag placed over its head.
It was for that reason, though, that it was so affordable for Jonny and Liz, who were barely out of their teens and trying to find their independence in the world. Their house on Wayborough Falls was their first step toward adulthood and living together as a couple. The rent was cheap. The location was ideal, handily placed just outside the town centre and a stone’s throw from their family and friends. 
It was a basic life, yes, but one they’d built together on their own — a basic life Jonny’s actions had put in jeopardy.
As Jonny swung his Corsa onto Wayborough Falls and slipped down into second gear, a new thin layer of condensation started creeping across his view, fighting back against the fans he’d dialled down so he could listen to the Christmas songs on Capital FM. Jonny responded by whacking the fans back onto the highest setting, joining the wiper blades that were going as fast as they could to keep up with the ribbons of rain that pounded from the night sky.
Approaching home, Jonny slowed right down as he searched for a place to park. The cars lined up bumper to bumper, no surprise given it was so late on a Friday night. There was a spot further up the road past his and Liz’s place that would have to do.
 

***

“Fuck me,” Jonny muttered to himself after locking the door behind him.
His shoes, the flares of his baggy jeans, and his coat were damp with rain, even though he had only been out in the rain for a matter of seconds after leaping from his car. He carelessly dumped his work rucksack onto the hardwood floor and hung his dripping coat from a makeshift hook he’d stuck up himself. His keys went into the cracked pot on top of the shoe cabinet and, as he did so, he heard movement from upstairs.
First, there was a rustle from the bedroom, then a flick of a light being turned off. Elizabeth Stallard emerged on the landing, decked in cute nightwear that showed off a distinguished little bump belly. She tied her dressing gown closed over it as she made her way down to him.
Liz didn’t look directly at him until she was at the foot of the stairs. Even then, Jonny could see it was taking everything she had to look into his eyes. Her face was cold and cautious. A picture of broken trust and betrayal. 
“It’s done?” She asked firmly, but quietly.
Jonny swallowed the hard lump in his throat. He didn’t say anything, just nodded a couple of times as he sucked at his top lip. 
“Ok.”
Liz padded off towards the kitchen, stopping only to tap the light on in the living room. Jonny followed close by. She didn’t acknowledge his presence as she turned the oven dials and then brushed past him to bend down and ferret around in the freezer.
“Here, let me do that,” Jonny offered with a little too much earnestness.
“No, I’ve got it!” Elizabeth said with a snap. 
Jonny backed off and let her do her thing. Liz pulled out a couple of pizzas that are set on a couple of trays and slid onto the oven’s top grate. She straightened out, taking a moment to gather herself again.
Then she headed to the fridge and pulled out a couple of drinks — a can of coke for her, a beer for him, clicking them both open. Rather than hand the beer to Jonny, she left it on the worktop and took herself off to the living room without saying a single word.
Jonny didn’t follow right away. She asked for space and time and that’s what he would give her. He took a long swig of his beer. He’d still be in the box spare bedroom and was becoming familiar with the cold shoulder he deserved. Jonny had resigned himself to the usual Christmas festivities being on pause this year. Well, until they put on the forced act they talked about when they visit Liz’s parents.
Jonny accepted this was how it was going to be right now. He wished he could make everything better and take it all back. His saving grace was that Liz hadn’t kicked him to the kerb. He suspected the fact they were going to be parents in just under four months was a big reason why he wasn’t ringing around his mates and crashing on sofas. But he also hoped there was more to it than that, that she was giving him a chance to fix things because she wanted to. Not because she felt trapped by the life-altering change that was on the horizon.
And even if it took a lifetime, Jonny would do his damndest to make this up to her. 
He would make this right.