The One Love Forever
«Hey. What are you up to? Fancy meeting up? Where? At our café Great, Im already here, waiting for you.» James slipped his phone into his pocket, still smiling.
He and Emily had gone to school together. Beautiful, graceful, she had been the subject of all his dreams. He was nothing specialjust another face in the crowd, hopelessly in love. He knew he wasnt tall or handsome, but surely love wasnt just about looks? If only shed given him a chance, shed have seen the restthe kindness, the loyalty.
He followed her like a shadow, a devoted page. Emily tolerated his attention but never returned it. He watched her with one boyfriend, then another, burning with jealousy. Out of spite, he dated other girls, but in his heart, there was only her.
«Hey!» Emily slid into the seat across from him.
James had been so lost in thought he hadnt noticed her approach.
«Hi,» he managed, unable to hide the desperate joy in his voice or tear his eyes away.
«Earth to James!» Emily laughed, bright and loud.
He glanced away, the ache in his chest unbearable. At the next table, a man stared at Emily too. James clenched his fists, fighting the urge to yell, *Shes mine!* Except she never had been.
«Go grab us some coffee?» Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
James dashed to the counter and returned with two steaming mugs and Emilys favourite slice of Victoria sponge. He sat, stirred sugar into his drink, the spoon clinking softly.
«Something wrong?» Emily studied him, the mischief gone.
«No. Just wanted to see you. Here.» He slid a fridge magnet across the table.
«Thanks!» She turned it over in her hands.
They met here sometimes, in this café steeped in the scent of coffee, always calling it *their place*. Ten years ago, in this very spot, hed confessed his love. Shed said he was sweet, but they could only ever be friends.
«Look aroundplenty of girls here. You could make any of them happy.»
«But not you?»
«Sorry.»
Hed been so angry they nearly argued. She warned him thenif he pushed, shed cut him off. Fear silenced him. Even if it was just coffee, even if it was just this, he could still see her. Maybe someday
After that, he bottled his feelings. He tried to forget her, dated others, even married, thinking it might cure him. Shed liked his wedding photos, congratulated him. He didnt reply. Later, he posted honeymoon shots from the Maldives, waiting for her reaction. It took days. She mustve been busy. When she finally saw them, she liked every picture, wrote how lovely he and his wife looked, how shed love to visit.
*You couldve been the one beside me*, hed thought bitterly.
He called, asked to meet at the café. They exchanged messages, he gave her flowers on her birthday, little souvenirs from his holidaysSpain, Italy, France. She liked his posts, and he mistook her enthusiasm for hope. She took the gifts, listened to his travel stories, admired his tan. But whenever he edged toward confession, shed tuck the trinket into her bag, thank him, and leave.
Years passed. He divorcedhis wife couldnt have children, and he longed for a family. But Emily had her own life, no room for him. Then she married.
The pain was unbearable. Jealousy, furyhe drowned in it, seeking revenge in other womens arms. Nothing helped.
One day, he saw a photo on her profilea tiny hand, a hospital bracelet with her name, her sons birthdate. He congratulated her, howling inside. *That shouldve been my child.*
He tried forgetting her again, remarried. When Charlotte gave him a daughter, little Sophie, he almost believed happiness without Emily was possible. He posted photos*my two girls, my joy*. He avoided Emilys profile.
He had his happiness now. He was done with her.
Then he left his phone at home. Charlotte found the old messages with Emily. Nothing incriminating, but the mere fact She stormed, screamedwhy was he messaging a married woman? Just friends? She didnt care. She threatened to ruin Emilys pretty face, to poison her.
«You wont.»
«Try me.» Her eyes burned with terrifying resolve. He promised never to write again.
They patched things up, but the chill lingered. Even Sophies laughter couldnt warm him.
Then Emily called. Wanted to meet.
He flew to the café. Shed changedstill beautiful, but dimmed. Her husband was cheating; she wanted a divorce. Tears shimmered in her eyes.
«Your husbands an idiot. What can I do? Want me to talk to him? Or punch him?»
She refused. Calmed, asked about him.
«Fine. Made another mistake, ruined things with Charlotte. Nearly divorced.»
«But youve got Sophie!»
«Your husband had a son. Didnt stop him.» He sighed. «So many women, none ever got pregnant. Thought it was me. Then Charlotte did. But I still cant forget you. Its like a curse.»
«Are you mad? That was schoolboy stuff! Its been years!»
«You decided were friends. Not me.»
«James» She covered his hand with hers. «I shouldnt have called. Im selfish. I never saw how much I hurt you.»
«Wait.» He gripped her hand. «You *are* selfish. Blind. I played along just to see you. You never cared what I felt. You call when *you* need me. I married to forget you. Youre my curse. Like in *Twilight*imprinted. I know Im no Hollywood hunk. How much longer will you torture me?»
She stared, stunned. He stood, tossed cash on the table, and left.
He drove for hours, cursing her, himself, the world. He wanted to scream, to press the accelerator and end it.
*Whats so special about her? Beautiful and cold. Shell fade. One day shell remember metoo late.* He stopped calling, messaging. If he checked her profile, he didnt like or comment. Her posts said shed divorced.
Months later, they bumped into each other outside a Tesco. She was with her son. Changedsofter, happier.
«Hey. Whereve you been?»
«Nowhere. Still in the same flat. You?»
«Not thinking about marriage. Still recovering.» She smiled at her son. «Were good, right?»
«Right,» the boy agreed.
James wanted to say he still loved her, but the childs eyes stopped him.
«Walking home? Ill come with you.»
«I drove.»
«Then Ill walk you to the car.»
She unlocked it, her son climbing into the back.
«Good seeing you.»
«You too.»
«Bye.» She waved, drove off.
He memorised her licence plate, followed her, honking, flashing his lights. They weaved through traffic like kids, laughing until she turned into her estate. He drove on.
«Whereve you been? Shopping at the other end of London? Wheres the food?» Charlotte hissed as he walked in.
Hed forgotten everything the moment he saw Emily.
«Were you with *her*? Shes free now. Want a divorce? Fine.»
The divorce was ugly. Charlotte threatened to keep Sophie from him. He gave her the flat, bargained for three hours a week with his daughter. His mother made it worse, scolding him.
One cold afternoon, he took Sophie to a soft-play centre. And there was Emily, with her son.
«Looktheyre like siblings,» Sophie giggled.
*We look like a family. If only.* His chest tightened. Darkness swallowed him.
«James! Call an ambulance!» Emilys voice cut through.
*Someones ill*, he thought, then blacked out.
He woke on a stretcher, struggling to breathe.
«Dont worry, Ill take Sophie home,» Emily said.
A medic pushed her aside, shut the ambulance doors.
She visited him in hospital the next day.
«You scared me. Thought it was a heart attack. Thank God it wasnt. Id better godont want to run into Charlotte. She said awful things when I brought Sophie back»
«She wont come. Emily will you visit tomorrow?»
Discharged a week later, they sat in the café again.
«Should you be drinking coffee?»
«One wont hurt.»
«When you collapsed I was so scared. I remembered school, your little gifts, our coffees Imagining life without you Weve known each other so long, its like a marriage. Passion fadeswhats left is habit, care. Maybe thats stronger. We could try»
«Emily.» He couldnt speak.
All those years of longing All it took was a near-death scare for her *yes*.
The next day, he convinced her to register their marriage.
«You just divorced. Shouldnt we wait?»
«No. What if you change your mind?»
They married quietly, just a café lunch. Honeymoon postponed, though Emily longed to see the ocean. She refused the Maldivestoo many memories of his ex. He suggested the Canaries insteadeternal spring, black volcanic sand, exotic birds. Sometimes, yellow clouds rolled insand blown from the Sahara.
When her son slept, they lay tangled together, listening to the waves.
«Emily, Im so happy.»
«Me too. All that wasted time.»
«Well make up for it. Weve got forever. They returned from the Canaries with sun-bleached hair and salt-stiffened clothes, their laughter softer now, settled. Back in London, they still met at the café, ordered the same drinks, sat in their usual corner. The fridge magnet James had given her all those years ago found its place beside her sons school photo, holding up a grocery list. On weekend mornings, he helped with homework, tied shoelaces, warmed bottles. No grand gestures, just quiet mornings and shared glances, the kind that said *I see you, Im here*. And when Sophie and Emilys son played in the park, chasing pigeons and arguing over swings, James watched them, then her, and smilednot with desperation, not with longing, but with peace. The ache had finally faded. He had spent a lifetime chasing a dream, only to find that love, real love, wasnt something you imprinted on. It was something you built. And they were just beginning.
