You threw away your education for this foolish love! We sent you to study, not to marry! As if we needed some village girl in our family, fumed the father. Determined to break their sons reckless passion, they forced a separation. At his fathers urging, Victor enlisted.
Victoria tidied the house, smoothing the wallpaper, replacing the curtains, and now sorting through the clutter in the loft. Order soothed her; it brought peace to her restless heart.
In the farthest corner, she found a box of Victors letters. How long had it been since she last opened it? Forgotten in her cleaning, she unfolded one, then another, and another
Vicky and Victor had met at the Imperial College in London. He was a city boy; she had come from the countryside.
She had caught his eye at onceher long chestnut hair, striking green eyes, and slender frame. Victor, bold and restless, swept shy Vicky into his whirlwind. Each day, he devised some new way to win her: flowers left at her dormitory door, midnight visits to her window just to whisper goodnight. (Her room was on the ground floor.)
Student parties, long walks, stolen kissestheir first year flew by in a blur. They were inseparable.
But Victor neglected his studies. Hed never been keen on science to begin with, and now love consumed him. He was expelled. It hardly troubled him.
Ill find work, re-enroll later. And then Ill marry you, my joy, he assured Victoria.
He took a job at the factory and told his parents of his plans. They knew Vicky vaguelyshed visited a few times.
He expected resistance. His mother and father had long hoped hed marry their friends daughter, Beatrice. But neither Victor nor Beatrice had any interest in fulfilling that wish.
Victor believed he could make them understand. Theyd see how much he loved Vicky! Surely theyd realize he couldnt live without her.
They did not.
You threw away your education for this foolish love! We sent you to study, not to marry! As if we needed some village girl in our family, his father stormed.
Desperate to sever the bond, they sent Victor away to serve.
Vicky ached without him. Only his letterstender, ferventkept her going.
Then, abruptly, they stopped. A month, two, half a yearnot a word. She was beside herself.
It happens. Feelings cool in separation. It wasnt love, just infatuation, consoled their mutual friend, Samuel.
What Vicky didnt know was that Samuel had written to Victor, confessing his own love for her. Hed asked Victor to stop writingshe was moving on, and they were to be married.
Resigned, Vicky buried herself in studies. Samuel was always there, steadfast. His affection was genuine, his care unwavering.
Let Samuel be happy, at least, she thought, and accepted his proposal.
She meant to burn Victors letters, but couldnt bring herself to. Instead, she tucked them away in a box.
Vicky began anew.
Victors parents wasted no time informing him of her marriage to Samuel.
Years slipped by. Decades. They lived in the same city, their paths never crossing.
Vicky heard whispers: Victor had marriednot Beatrice, but another. A son was born.
Her own life, steady and quiet, held little joy. Two daughters came, then work and duty. There was no room for longing.
They carried their burdens without complaint, forgetting life could be bright.
Thirty-five years passed.
Vickys marriage crumbled. Try as they might, love had never taken root. Samuel found solace elsewhere; the girls, grown, built their own lives. Nothing bound them anymore.
After the divorce, he confessedhow hed orchestrated their separation.
Victor, too, was alone.
Vicky read the last letter, tears and smiles tangled. Then, an achewhere was Victor now? How had life treated him? Just to see him, just to speak
She wrote to his old address. Perhaps he still lived there. Perhaps family remained. She posted it at once, decisive as ever.
The next morning, she scolded herself. Why must I be so foolish?
Victor, returning home, checked his post. A letter? Rare these days. The name on the envelope made his heart stutter. Time folded in on itself.
At the appointed hour, he stepped into the café, pulse unsteady. The room was empty save for one woman at a corner table.
Vicky, he breathed.
She turned. Yes.
Her eyeshed remembered them all these years.
They talked. They wept. They laughed.
When they left, hand in hand, it was for good.
P.S.
Nearly five years have passed since that day. Victoria and Victor live in perfect harmony, each moment a gift.
True love never fades. Of this, they are now certain.
