The One

by Maria Realf

  ‘Me either.’ He backed up and gave her some space. ‘What’s going on with us, Lizzie? Really?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said, her heart hammering. ‘I’m still trying to figure it out. There’s so much to think about right now.’

  ‘Actually, I’m not sure there is,’ he said softly. ‘I shouldn’t have let it go this far.’ A frown crossed his face. ‘I’ve been selfish, wanting to keep meeting up when I knew you were getting married. I just enjoyed being with you again so much. But we need to face the facts, and stop this now before things get even more complicated.’

  Her blood froze. ‘But what if I want to be with you, too?’

  ‘You don’t really want that,’ he sighed. ‘There’s no future for us, Lizzie. You could have 50 years with Josh … I don’t even know what’s going to happen next week.’ He cleared his throat. ‘It wouldn’t work out. You should go home and be with him.’

  Lizzie realised that everything Alex was saying was true, but she still felt ready to be sick all over the bandstand. ‘So where does that leave us?’

  He looked out over the gardens, his voice almost lost in the summer air. ‘I guess it means we have to go our separate ways. For good, this time.’

  ‘But we could have another go at being friends, right? I want to be there to support you after your operation. Maybe I could visit you after I …’

  ‘We can’t be friends, Lizzie,’ he cried. ‘Don’t you get it? I’m in love with you! Every time I see you, I want to be with you so much I feel like I’m going to explode. You can’t imagine what that’s like.’

  I can, actually.

  ‘And I can’t ask you to risk everything for me – not when we might only have a few months together.’

  His logic made perfect sense, but it still didn’t stop Lizzie from feeling torn right down the middle. ‘So what exactly are you saying, Alex?’

  ‘I’m saying what I should have said in the first place.’ He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her like it was his last 60 seconds on earth. ‘I love you, Lizzie Sparkes. I always will. But now I think we need to say goodbye.’

  24

  1 week to go …

  Lizzie climbed the rickety ladder up to the small loft, realising she could see the stars through the skylight. Her wedding dress hung portentiously in the corner, hovering like a sequinned ghost in the semi-darkness. She quickly switched on the light and began to rummage around the motley assortment of boxes and crates.

  It’s got to be here somewhere.

  She had spent hours this week hunting high and low for a jewellery box she’d inherited from her great-aunt June, inside which was a beautiful vintage brooch that was meant to be her ‘something old’. Unfortunately, it was proving more elusive than she’d anticipated. It wasn’t in her wardrobe or beneath her bed; it wasn’t in her bottom drawer or the crate under the stairs. She knew she had carefully squirrelled it away for safekeeping several years ago. Trouble was, she’d hidden it so well that now she couldn’t find it.

  She lifted the lid off one box, only to discover the remnants of her old CD collection. She didn’t really need the discs these days – hadn’t played them for years, in fact – but she couldn’t quite bring herself to give the lot to the charity shop. She picked up a few of the cases and flicked through them: Sugababes, S Club 7, Westlife. ‘Best left in the loft,’ she muttered, though she knew she’d never part with them.

  The next box was crammed with glowing school reports; another was stuffed with Josh’s old sports gear. She was tempted to chuck that one out, knowing he’d never notice, but reluctantly popped it back in the corner. The fourth one she opened looked more promising: inside she found a number of important items, including her degree certificate, her adoption certificate and her old passport, which she really should have hidden better given her terrible teenage haircut.

  Removing the pile of documents, Lizzie spotted the antique wooden jewellery box, a little chipped on the front left corner but otherwise in mint condition. She opened it up to see a small velvet pouch, feeling a moment of relief as she slipped her fingers inside and retrieved the delicate brooch. It was every bit as lovely as she remembered: a sparkling circle of crystals surrounding a single pearl in the centre. The perfect ‘something old’ indeed – if only she could stop obsessing over her old boyfriend.

  She wondered what her wise great-aunt would have made of her recent behaviour. June had met Alex several times and taken a real shine to him, but Lizzie was sure she would not approve of her meeting him behind Josh’s back. Funny business, she used to call it. Good girls didn’t carry on like that. Especially not when they were about to get married.

  And yet she couldn’t stop thinking about Alex, and everything he’d told her last week in the park. If the doctors were right and his cancer was terminal, then their relationship literally had no future. She would be throwing away a lifetime with Josh and all that went with it – children, grandchildren, growing old together – for a few more moments with her first love. But, still, the thought of a world without Alex made her feel like she might break in half, causing her heart to fall out of her chest and sink into the ground forever.

  For the first time, Lizzie began to comprehend the depth of Alex’s despair after Connor was killed. I didn’t understand when you left, but it’s starting to make sense now. She realised that losing someone you loved wasn’t something you would ever get over, or find closure from; it was something you had to learn to live with, like a scar, and carry to the end. Connor was still part of Alex, the way Alex would always be part of her.

  She closed her eyes and traced the outline of her lips with her finger, trying to fix every moment of their final kiss in her mind. She wished she could package up the memory and stash it in one of these boxes, to lie quietly next to her old passport, and be dusted off and revisited from time to time.

  How long will I be able to remember the outline of his face, or the exact shade of his eyes? What if I start to forget the little details, like when you wake up and that dream just slips away right in front of you?

  For what felt like the millionth time that week, the tears threatened to fall. She had already broken down in front of Megan on Tuesday, too distraught to keep secrets any longer. She needed to talk to someone before she silently crumbled, the worry gnawing away at her, piece by piece.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ said Megan, her own eyes filling up. ‘I mean, I know I said some horrible things about Alex in the past, but … that poor guy.’ Lizzie knew that despite all the verbal abuse her best friend had given Alex in absentia, she’d never want anything bad to actually happen to him. ‘And there’s really nothing they can do to remove the tumour completely?’

  ‘That’s what he says,’ wept Lizzie. ‘And it’s crushing me that I can’t do anything to help because … because … I still have all these feelings for him.’

  ‘Does Josh know?’ she said softly.

  ‘No! You’re the only person who knows, besides Alex.’ Lizzie wiped her nose with her wrist. ‘But you can’t say anything, to anyone.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Megan promised. ‘But Lizzie, what are you going to do about the wedding?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ she sobbed. ‘I mean, it’s not like I’ve suddenly stopped loving Josh. I know we could be happy together. But lately I keep finding myself thinking about Alex, wishing that I could be there for him …’ She struggled to breathe through her tears. ‘What am I going to do, Megan? You have to tell me what to do!’

  Megan wrapped one arm around her, pulling her in for a hug.

  ‘I wish I could, but I can’t help you with this one,’ she said gently. ‘This is a choice you’ve got to figure out on your own.’

  Desperately trying to keep it together, Lizzie took a deep breath and continued to rifle through the jewellery box, as though the dazzling trinkets might somehow distract from her dilemma. She wished that June was here now to dispense some sage advice, or even just to hug her and make everything better, li
ke she used to when Lizzie was a child.

  She was about to close the lid when she caught sight of a small, dark box that looked vaguely familiar. With trembling hands, she lifted it out and slowly opened the gold-embossed top. Inside lay Alex’s silver pendant, shining up like a miniature searchlight, as beautiful as the day he’d given it to her. So that’s where it went. She must have stashed it there after the break-up, too traumatised to look at it, yet unable to throw it away.

  Turning it over, she ran a finger over the tiny engraved letters.

  Forever.

  The wave of emotion struck with a force she could not have seen coming. She dropped the necklace and angrily swiped away the jewellery box, its contents spilling across the floor as the tears tumbled down her cheeks. She cried softly at first and then harder, louder, until her whole body started to shake. Her chest ached so much she could barely catch her breath.

  Alex, what am I going to do without you? She knew for sure that there was a part of her that still loved him, that would always love him, and that would disappear with him. She wanted to be there to support him, to be by his side whenever the end came.

  But Alex did not want her there as a friend, and she could not give him her whole heart while she was engaged to Josh. Laid-back, lovable Josh, who had never dumped her or deserted her or driven her to distraction. OK, so it’s different to what you had with Alex, but Josh is a great guy, she reminded herself. You’ve spent the past five years building a life together. How could you even think about letting him down so badly now?

  She dared to imagine, just for a moment, what would happen if she called off the wedding. Her dad would lose all the money he’d so generously paid for the reception. Her mum would never be able to face the ladies from her badminton group again. And Josh’s mum … well, Celia would probably beat her to death with the bridal bouquet.

  But all of that paled into insignificance at the thought of telling Josh. She would break his heart, the way hers had been broken all those years ago. He would never forgive her. All the promises they’d made, all the happy times they’d shared, would be destroyed in a heartbeat.

  And for what?

  Though she couldn’t hide the fact she still cared for Alex, it was clear that their story would not have a happy ending. But with Josh, the future was unscripted: fresh chapters they could fill together. If she picked him, life would be straightforward; she knew that he would make a devoted husband, a doting father. He could give her all the things she’d never have with Alex. Time. Security. A family of her own.

  I can’t throw all that away, right?

  I just need to calm down and concentrate on next week.

  Wiping her eyes, Lizzie began to scoop up the jewellery she’d sent flying, gently placing each item back in the box. She was still so absorbed in her thoughts that she almost didn’t see the folded piece of paper on the floor, its edges crinkled and discoloured. What else have I hidden in there?

  Confused, she opened it carefully.

  Then she realised it wasn’t her who had hidden it after all.

  14 February, 1946

  My darling June,

  I hope you will forgive me for this letter, but I don’t think I could forgive myself if I didn’t send it.

  Since the first time I saw you on that bicycle, my every thought has returned to you – the curl of your hair, the blush of your cheeks, the warmth of your hand slipped into mine. Even in my darkest moments, when I couldn’t picture any way out, I never stopped picturing your lovely face. You were my angel, my anchor, my path home.

  I didn’t ask you to wait for me, not because I didn’t care for you, but because I couldn’t promise that I would make it back. I should have known then that you would have other admirers, that someone else would say the words I dared not. Perhaps it was foolish of me to think that you could hold me in the same regard as I have come to hold you.

  I realise I am likely too late to reclaim your affection, but if there is any chance that I am not, I need to tell you this now. I love you, June. I never stopped. So the question is, have you?

  I’ll be waiting for your answer, and am sending this brooch as a token of my feelings. If I see you wearing it at the dance tomorrow, I’ll know there’s still some hope for us. If not, then I must say farewell, and wish you a lifetime of happiness with him.

  Happy Valentine’s day, my darling.

  Love always, Henry

  Lizzie’s mind began to whirr. She had no idea who Henry was, but she knew one thing for sure: he certainly wasn’t June’s husband.

  Did she love someone else once, too?

  Lizzie would never get the chance to ask, but she felt strangely comforted to know that June might have sympathised with her situation after all. She wondered what had happened to the one that got away, or if great-uncle Alfred had ever found out that he had competition. June and Alfred were married for more than 50 years, with two children and five grandchildren, and they had always seemed like the perfect pairing.

  Reading the letter again, Lizzie tried to imagine June with this other man, but couldn’t. How differently might her life have turned out if she’d worn Henry’s brooch? It was impossible to say. Whatever the truth, June had made a choice and committed to it.

  Like I need to do.

  Folding the note back into a neat square, Lizzie replaced it inside the jewellery box and gently closed the lid.

  I’ve made up my mind, she told herself.

  It’s time to grow up and get married.

  25

  4 days to go …

  Lizzie sat on the bed and wriggled out of a pair of stockings, trying not to snag them in the process. She had bought two shades for the wedding – ‘nude’ and ‘natural’ – but now she’d tried them both on they looked almost identical. Slipping back into her jeans, she decided to go with ‘nude’ and keep the other pair in case she got a ladder. No one besides Josh was going to see them under the dress anyway, and she doubted he’d be able to tell the difference.

  Next this evening, she needed to email Peggy Bloom to confirm access arrangements for Saturday. Where’s my mobile? Looking around, she realised she must have left it in the lounge. ‘Josh!’ she yelled. ‘Is my phone down there?’

  He didn’t reply.

  She went downstairs and opened the door to the lounge. ‘Hey, Josh, did you hear me? I was asking if …’ She stopped as she noticed him sitting on the sofa with the TV turned off. He had a pained look on his face and her mobile beside him.

  ‘Who’s Alex?’ he said quietly.

  Lizzie felt sick to her stomach. Say something. Anything. ‘What are you doing with my phone?’ was all she could manage. Her voice came out small and strained, her indignation strangled by shame.

  ‘Answer the question,’ he said, looking her straight in the eye. She couldn’t hold his gaze and stared down at the faded cream carpet, wishing it would open up and swallow her. ‘Is he your ex-boyfriend?’

  So she was right – Josh had heard the name whispered somewhere before. But if it bothered him, he had never let on until now.

  ‘Well?’ he pressed.

  Tell the truth. You owe him that much.

  The guilt that had been weighing on her since the ball suddenly became unbearable. If she didn’t come clean now, their whole marriage was going to start off under the shadow of a lie.

  ‘Yes,’ she said finally. ‘But it’s not—’

  Josh picked up the remote control and hurled it against the wall, the batteries flying out as it hit the ground with a crack. His eyes flashed with anger.

  ‘Josh, don’t!’ She had never seen him so upset. ‘I can explain …’

  ‘I don’t want to hear it,’ he said furiously. ‘I trusted you. I asked you to marry me! And now I find out you’ve been sneaking off to see your ex behind my back?’

  ‘It’s not like that!’

  ‘Oh, so you haven’t been meeting him, then?’

  ‘No, I did, but …’

  ‘I’m out of her
e.’ Josh stood up and stomped towards the lounge door, and Lizzie tried to block him with her outstretched arms.

  ‘Will you just listen to me for a minute, please? It’s complicated.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Alex is sick, really sick. Cancer. That’s why he got back in touch.’

  ‘What?’ Josh looked stunned, unsure. Of all the possible scenarios racing through his mind, this clearly wasn’t one he’d anticipated. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘He’s dying, OK? He’s got a brain tumour.’ She could feel her body tensing up, the words jamming in her throat. ‘I only found out recently. I just wanted to spend a little time with him, while he was still …’ Her voice began to break and she pressed her palms to her face, trying to stem the tears that threatened to spill out yet again.

  ‘OK, OK.’ Josh’s scowl softened a little and he retreated to the sofa. ‘Let’s sit down and go back a bit.’

  ‘Alright.’ She moved slowly, cautiously, her knees feeling weak as she sank into the centre cushion. Josh perched warily on the arm, as though he couldn’t quite bring himself to sit next to her just yet. His body was rigid, like a statue. ‘Where do you want to start?’

  ‘You tell me.’ He clenched his jaw. ‘How long has this been going on?’

  ‘Not long. A few weeks, maybe. I hadn’t heard from him for years before that, honestly.’ She looked up, willing Josh to believe her. ‘He moved abroad after we broke up, and I didn’t think I was ever going to see him again.’

  ‘So what changed?’

  ‘He came back. He kept saying we needed to talk, that it was important.’ She chewed on her lower lip. ‘I didn’t want to see him at first, but in the end I felt like I should hear him out, I guess.’

  ‘Why didn’t you want to see him before?’

  ‘Because …’ There was no good way to finish that sentence. Because there was too much history. Because he broke my heart. Because if he hadn’t left town, I’d probably be married to him now, instead of sitting here with you. ‘Because things didn’t end well between us.’