“COULDN’T LOVE HER BACK”
“Alright, girls, which one of you is Lily?” The woman studied me and my mate with a sly grin.
“Thatd be me. Why?” I frowned, puzzled.
“Got a letter for you, Lily. From Oliver,” she said, pulling a crumpled envelope from her coat pocket and handing it over.
“Oliver? Where is he?” I blinked in surprise.
“Transferred to a care home for adults. Waited for you like you were rain after drought, he did. Nearly wore his eyes out staring at the gate. Gave me this letter to check for mistakesdidnt want to embarrass himself in front of you. Right, better dashlunch soon. I work here as a carer.” She gave me a disapproving look, sighed, and hurried off.
…It had all started one summer when me and my best mate, Sophie, wandered onto the grounds of some unfamiliar place by accident. We were sixteen, bored, and craving adventure.
We plopped onto a bench, chatting and giggling, not noticing the two lads approaching till they were right there.
“Alright, girls? Bit lonely, are we? Fancy a chat?” The taller one stuck out his hand. “Oliver.”
“Lily,” I said. “This is Sophie. And whos the quiet one?”
“Ethan,” mumbled the other lad.
They seemed old-fashioned, almost too proper. Oliver folded his arms, stern. “Why dyou wear skirts that short? And Sophie, that tops a bit revealing.”
“Oi, eyes front, lads. Dont want them popping out your head, do we?” Sophie and I burst out laughing.
“Hard not to look. Were blokes, arent we? You two dont smoke, do you?” Oliver pressed, all serious.
“Course we do. Just not properly,” I teased.
Only then did we notice something odd about their legsOliver shuffled awkwardly, and Ethan had a heavy limp.
“Are you patients here?” I guessed.
Oliver rattled off a practised line: “Yeah. Motorbike crash for me. Ethan botched a dive off a cliff. Getting discharged soon.”
We believed themback then, we had no clue theyd been disabled since childhood, doomed to live in that care home. To them, Sophie and I were a taste of the outside world.
Theyd made up storiesaccidents, fights, anything to hide the truth. But Oliver and Ethan were sharp, well-read, wise beyond their years.
Soon, we started visiting every week. Partly out of pity, partly because they were good company. It became routineOliver picking daisies for me, Ethan shyly handing Sophie origami hed folded.
Wed sit together on that bench, Oliver glued to my side, Ethan turned toward Sophie, whod blush but never push him away. We talked about everything and nothing all summer.
Then autumn came. School started. By the time exams and graduation rolled around, wed forgotten all about them.
…Months later, curiosity brought us back. We waited on the bench, expecting Oliver to hobble over with flowers, Ethan with another paper crane. No one came.
Then that carer appeared, thrusting Olivers letter into my hands. I tore it open:
*”Dearest Lily, my sweet flower, my unreachable staryou never realised I fell for you the moment we met. Those afternoons were my whole world. Six months Ive stared out that window, hoping youd come back. But you forgot me. Our paths split, and thats that. Still, Im gratefulyou showed me real love. I remember your voice, your smile, your hands. Hurts like hell without you. Just one more glimpse but theres nothing left to breathe.
Ethan and I turned eighteen. Theyre moving us to another home. Doubt well meet again. My hearts in pieces. Maybe one day Ill get over you.
Goodbye, my darling.”*
Signed, *”Always yours, Oliver.”*
A dried flower fell out. My chest ached with guilt. That saying echoed in my head*were responsible for those weve tamed.*
Id had no idea Oliver felt like that. Id never fancied himjust enjoyed his company, maybe flirted a bit. Never meant to stoke a fire I couldnt put out.
…Years passed. The letter yellowed, the flower crumbled. But I still remember those afternoonshis jokes, the easy chatter.
Theres an ending, though. Sophie fell for Ethanhis parents had abandoned him over his “imperfection” (one leg shorter from birth). She trained as a teacher, works at a care home now. Married Ethan. Two grown sons.
Oliver, Ethan said, never found anyone. At forty, his mum finally visited, took one look at him, wept, and brought him home to her village. After that? No one knows.
