Id always been convinced he was a golden boyarrogant and untouchable. Charles had everything anyone could wish for: his own flat in London, a car, designer clothes.
Meanwhile, Id always felt like a wallflower. I kept it a secret that my parents were alcoholics and that Id been working since I was fourteen. I taught myself to sew, so I started mending and altering clothes for my friends.
Right at the start of university, my coursemates decided to throw a party. What shocked me most was that Id been invited as well. I was desperate to show them all I mattered.
I couldnt afford to buy a dress, so I made one myself. My neighbour styled my hair. When I showed up at the party, my friends didnt even recognise me. Charles noticed me and kept an eye on me the whole evening. I tried to slip away, but he caught up with me and offered to give me a lift home.
I told him the address next-door to mine; I was too ashamed to let him see where I actually lived. From that night on, we started seeing each other and, bit by bit, we fell in love. He didnt seem arrogant anymore, always treating me as his equal.
Everything was wonderful until my coursemates found out about my part-time job and started laughing at me. I wanted the ground to swallow me up. I had no choice but to run away, so I went to the deans office and handed in a request to take a year out.
I thought that, after a year, theyd have forgotten about me and maybe I could even transfer to a different course. Looking back, I can see how ridiculous that was, but at the time it felt like the only way out. I changed my phone number, which meant Charles and I lost touch, and two months later, I found out I was pregnant.
There was no one I could share the news with. I worked day and night, crying into my pillow after dark. My parents barely noticed and just kept pestering me for money to buy drink. It was my godmother who saw what was going on and decided to take me in.
When I told her my story, I felt a little relief for the first time in ages. She was the one by my side in the maternity ward, and the first person I told when my son was born. He was a fair-haired, blue-eyed baby boy, looking just like an angel. I couldnt take my eyes off him.
Then, out of the blue, I got a message from Charles, saying that he loved us both dearly and wanted to be with us. The next day I was discharged from hospital, and I was terrified to look him in the eye. I still remember so clearly, standing at the door, holding my son close, too scared to face my boyfriend.
I realise now how foolish I wasalmost a year of happiness wasted. How could I ever have thought to let him go for good? I only truly understood when I saw Charles looking at our son with so much love and tenderness, holding him gently in his arms.
