“I Choose You…”
On the first day at university, two girls instantly noticed each other. Both pretty, even somewhat similar in looks. From then on, they were inseparable.
Lucy believed she deserved better than spending her life in a small provincial town like her parents had. Her mother worked as a shop assistant, her father was a builder—and yes, he drank. After finishing school, she announced she was leaving for London to study.
Her parents sighed but didn’t argue. They reasoned that maybe she’d have better luck than her older sister, who’d married poorly and was now raising two children alone. They couldn’t send much money, but they’d pack vegetables from their garden and preserves whenever possible. A neighbour worked as a train conductor on the London route, so they could send things along.
Once in London, Lucy vowed never to return home. She befriended Emily partly because Emily was a true Londoner. Her father was a doctor, her mother an economist—a proper, middle-class family.
Emily pitied Lucy, and Lucy took advantage. She’d complain her boots were worn out, and Emily would lend her a spare pair. Nothing to wear for a night out? Emily handed over a new dress—thankfully, they were the same size. Lucy often stayed over at Emily’s, especially during exams. The dorm was no place to study.
Lucy hated academics but forced herself through the books, though she longed to be out clubbing. *Just wait*, she thought. *Once I graduate and settle in London, I’ll make up for it.*
Emily, on the other hand, excelled effortlessly. Lucy envied her, though she never showed it. As often happens, both fell for the same guy—a handsome, athletic bloke named James. He’d come to London from a military town where his father was stationed. Soon, the trio did everything together.
“James, how do you manage with both? Taking turns or sharing?” the lads would tease.
Even lecturers joked, asking who he fancied.
James ignored the jibes. He preferred gentle, easygoing Emily but feared showing it, not wanting anyone to think he chose her for her London roots.
In lectures, he’d “accidentally” brush her knee with his or lean in as if to whisper. What escaped others, Lucy noticed—the tension in their still faces. Resentment engulfed her. *Of course*, she seethed. *Emily’s got everything—born in London, raised in a good family, and now she’s snagged the best guy.*
Tired of hiding, James confessed his feelings to Emily and subtly edged Lucy out. Their trio crumbled. Lucy refused to accept it. She wouldn’t lose Emily—or let her keep James.
She plotted to set things right, to sabotage their romance. Confrontation wouldn’t work; she needed them to fight and split. Time was short. Third year was ending, exams loomed. What if they married before graduation?
*If only she’d break a leg and stay home. No—James would carry her everywhere. Better if she got terrible acne. I’ll buy her strawberries…*
Fate, inexplicably, spared Emily. Lucy was the one who broke out in spots.
Before exams, James’s mother fell seriously ill. He arranged to defer his papers until August and left. London was unusually sunny—beach weather, not study weather. After their first exam, the girls walked through the city. Lucy paused at a bridal shop window.
“Which dress would you pick for your wedding?” she asked.
“Dunno. Haven’t thought about it.”
“Come off it. Every girl dreams of a white dress. I’d want this one.” Lucy pointed to a voluminous gown. “Suits me, right? Let’s go try it on. They don’t charge for that.”
“Seriously? It’s boiling. You’ll sweat in tights. Let’s get ice cream instead,” Emily tugged her away.
“Please? Just one. Pretend I’m the bride, you’re my maid of honour,” Lucy wheedled.
“Trying on dresses before you’re engaged is bad luck.”
“Old wives’ tales. You’ll shop early anyway. Just one?”
“Fine.”
The shop assistant, bored and wilted from the heat, greeted them. Lucy played the bride-to-be, scrutinizing gowns. She picked one and emerged from the changing room. Emily admitted it was stunning—ready for the registry, if only she had someone to marry.
“We’ve a lovely dress that barely fits anyone. You’re slim—it’d suit you. I’ll give a discount,” the assistant told Emily.
“It’s my friend getting married, not me.”
“Easy fix. Just try it,” the assistant smiled.
Emily relented. When she stepped out, Lucy’s breath caught. The dress clung perfectly—no lace, no fuss, just elegance.
“It needs a veil,” Lucy muttered.
“A tiara would suit better,” the assistant suggested.
“Fetch it,” Lucy snapped, masking her irritation.
Everything always worked for Emily. Lucy glanced at her own reflection—her dress now seemed garish and cheap. The assistant fixed a jeweled branch into Emily’s hair.
Envious, Lucy watched.
“Mind if I take a photo? It suits you,” the assistant asked.
“Me too.” Lucy pulled out her phone. “Smile. Now turn around—look back at me. Perfect.”
“Enough,” Emily said, heading to change.
“I’ll help,” the assistant scurried after her.
Alone, Lucy hatched her plan. No need for theatrics—just send James the photo of Emily in the dress. *I’ll retouch it*, she decided. *Make it look real.* In one shot, a man outside the shop window appeared—on his phone. *Perfect—a groom waiting.* Lucy stifled a cheer.
As Emily returned, Lucy lied smoothly. “Loved it. If I don’t find better, I’ll buy this.”
After exams, Lucy didn’t go home. Her old room now housed her sister and kids. She called, claiming she’d found work. Her mother, relieved, said they’d stop sending money.
“Olga’s kids need so much now,” she sighed.
“Typical. I say I’m working, and suddenly they’re broke,” Lucy grumbled to Emily.
“They’ve got their struggles too,” Emily soothed.
“Her choice to have kids with a deadbeat.”
“I’d never abandon you. Come home—Mum made borscht.”
“Don’t know what I’d do without you,” Lucy said, almost meaning it.
A month later, she sent James the photo. He returned in August, grim.
“Your mum worse?” Emily pressed.
“No, she’s fine. Congrats, by the way.”
“On what?”
“Your wedding. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What? That was a joke! Lucy dragged me there. James, let me explain—”
“Great joke,” he said, walking away.
“Why’d you send that photo?” Emily rounded on Lucy.
“You looked nice. Thought he’d propose already.”
“Now he thinks I’m lying!”
James ignored calls. Emily avoided Lucy, but Lucy didn’t care. Term was starting—money would come. She’d manage without Emily. James would be hers.
In lectures, Emily sat alone, stealing glances at Lucy and James. Then his mother died. Lucy clung to him, never leaving his side. Soon, they announced their engagement. Explanations became unnecessary.
His father, transferred to a military academy in York, got a flat. James and Lucy married, switched to distance learning, and moved.
Two years after graduation, Emily married a family friend’s son—her parents’ choice. She didn’t care. They never loved each other. No children came. He strayed; they divorced after seven years.
* * *
“Why the countryside? No one’s lived there for years,” her mother argued.
“I need to be alone. I can’t breathe,” Emily near-shouted.
“Go to Spain, then.”
“I want solitude, not crowds.”
She remembered the house as grand and sturdy—built by her grandfather as a family legacy. But her father left for London, married, built a career. The house stood empty after her grandfather’s death, though someone kept an eye on it.
From the train, she walked three miles, regretting her heavy suitcase. The gate was latched. New cottages dwarfed the shrunken house. The key turned smoothly—someone had oiled the lock. Inside smelled of damp and old books.
She fetched firewood, lit the stove, then went for water. The pump was rusted shut.
“Doesn’t work,” a voice said. A bearded man stood by the fence.
“Where can I get water?”
“Come through.” He opened his gate. “Use the tap here.”
She filled her bucket, eyeing his neat garden—trimmed bushes, bright flowers by the porch.
“Lovely.”
“Not mine. I mind it for the owner. Door’s open if you need more.”
She cleaned, washed up, then returned with pancakes her mother had packed. No one answered her call at the neighbour’s, soShe stepped inside, placed the plate on the table, and froze—her eyes meeting James’s across the room, both realizing that fate had finally brought them to where they were always meant to be.
