“Hey. We never did go to the cinema that time, did we?” he blurted out, forgetting all the carefully rehearsed lines he’d prepared.
Liam and Emily sat on the riverbank, dreaming aloud about uni, their future careers, and the flat they’d buy together.
“I’ll get a proper posh car, the fanciest one. And we’ll make it happen—no doubt about it,” Liam said, tossing a pebble into the water.
“We’ll holiday at the seaside or go abroad,” Emily added cheerfully, watching the ripples fade. Then, with a sigh: “But first, we’ve got to get into uni. God, I’m sick of studying already.”
“We will.” Liam slipped an arm around Emily’s shoulders and pulled her close.
At that moment, it felt like no one had ever loved like they did—like nothing could ever tear them apart.
“We should head back. Mum’s probably worried. Plus, it’s freezing.” Emily stood from the bench and winced. Her new shoes had rubbed her feet raw. She kicked them off and walked barefoot across the cool stone path.
“Fancy the cinema tomorrow? There’s a brilliant film on,” Liam suggested as they strolled, chatting about nothing and everything.
“See you then,” Emily said outside her house, rising on her toes to peck Liam’s cheek before darting inside.
“So, should I book the tickets?” he called after her.
She didn’t answer—just flashed him a smile at the door.
The town was still asleep, the short June night giving way to dawn. It was the first day of their grown-up lives, fresh out of sixth form.
Liam tiptoed into his flat, careful not to wake his mum, stripped down, and fell straight into the deep, satisfied sleep of someone who knew tomorrow would be kind. By afternoon, he was already beneath Emily’s window. She peeked out, then dashed down to meet him.
“Got the tickets,” Liam said, waving them triumphantly.
“Sorry, Liam, I can’t. Mum’s sister just turned up—she’s married some German bloke and they’re moving to Berlin. They’ve left us their flat in London. We’ve got to go with her tomorrow to sort it all out… I’m moving there.”
“But… when are you coming back?” Liam asked, still not quite processing it.
“Dunno. I’ll apply to uni there.”
“What about me? What about us? We were supposed to do this together!”
“Liam, chances like this don’t come twice. It’s not like I’m going to the moon—you can visit. Or better yet, why don’t you apply to a London uni too?” Her eyes lit up. “Seriously, come with me!”
“And live where? What would your parents say? I don’t have a wealthy aunt handing me flats, and I’ve no savings. How do I tell my mum? She’s got no one else—”
“We’ll figure it out,” Emily said airily.
“When do you leave?” His voice was flat.
“Tomorrow morning. Still need to pack. It’s all so sudden… Liam, my parents won’t let me stay, no matter how much I beg. If you love me, you’ll find a way to make this work.”
“And if you loved me…” Liam trailed off, shook his head, turned, and walked away.
Emily called after him, but he didn’t look back. He broke into a run, then slowed to a trudge only when she was long out of sight. His chest didn’t just ache—it felt like a pack of wolves had taken up residence. “She’ll leave, make new friends, forget me… Who even am I? Just some bloke from a nowhere town…”
“Fine. Go, then. I’ll manage. I’ll make it big… You’ll regret this,” he muttered all the way home.
He collapsed onto his bed, face pressed to the wall, and stayed like that for two days. His mum nearly called an ambulance, convinced he was ill.
“You should start revising, Liam. If you waste time like this, you won’t get into uni—they’ll draft you into the army. Then Emily really won’t come back. She’ll think you’re a loser.”
That snapped him out of it. He forced himself to study, though Emily’s face swam before him. Between sessions, he pounded the pull-up bar in the yard, exhausting himself so he couldn’t think of her. He’d achieve everything they’d dreamed of together. Then he’d march into London and— But first, uni.
He got in, to his mum’s delight. Every day, he hoped for a letter from Emily. He’d have written himself, but he didn’t have her address. Too late, he cursed himself for storming off like a child, for not seeing her off, for not even asking where she’d live. He’d go now if he could, but how do you find one girl in a city of millions? The neighbours couldn’t help—no one had left an address.
All through uni, Liam clung to the hope that Emily would reach out. In his final year, recruiters from big firms scouted graduates. He applied to a new factory just outside London—closer to Emily, maybe even close enough to bump into her.
His mum approved. She sold her flat to help him buy a house later. Within a year, he married Lucy, a quick-witted, brown-eyed accountant. They had a daughter, Margot.
“I don’t like the name. It’s so old-fashioned,” Lucy pouted.
“It’s timeless. Classy. Margot. Sounds posh, doesn’t it?” Liam insisted.
Ten years on, Liam was deputy director. He had a big house, a flash German car. His mum moved in to help with Margot.
Work took him abroad—China, Italy, Germany. Then one night, he dreamed of Emily. She stood on the riverbank, the water rushing behind her. “We never did go to the cinema,” she said sadly.
The more time passed, the less he thought of her—just flicking through mental snapshots, fleeting and vague. But after that dream, she haunted him. Where was she? Married, probably. He forbade himself from dwelling on it. Yet he craved showing her the life he’d built without her.
One lunch break, he searched her name on social media, filtering for London. Hundreds of Emilys smiled back. Only when he added their hometown did he find her.
He devoured the photos. A lavish house with a pool. Emily playing with a Rottweiler on a manicured lawn. A five-year-old boy clinging to her hand.
Her bio was sparse: *Lives in Germany. Married. One son.* The town’s name was unpronounceable. He remembered her calling it a “lucky break.” Well, she’d outdone their dreams. So had he. So why did his chest feel hollow?
He sent a short message: *Stumbled on your profile. So glad life’s treating you well.* No reply. Then he noticed—she hadn’t logged in for two years.
Had something happened? Then it hit him like a wave: She’d made the profile hoping *he’d* find her. Why else list their hometown? Bloody idiot, he hadn’t realised. She’d been looking for him too. The thought sent a ridiculous jolt of joy through him.
He rang an old schoolmate in the police. “Any chance you can track down Emily’s parents’ address?”
“In *London*? You joking?”
“Please, mate. They didn’t vanish into thin air, did they?”
“For all you know, they’re in Germany with her. Fine, I’ll try. Anything for a pal.”
Days later, the callback: “They sold the London flat two years after moving. Dad’s passport details were in the paperwork. Write this down…”
Lately, Liam spent hours online. Lucy grew suspicious. While he was out, she checked his laptop and found Emily’s profile.
When he got home, she confronted him: “How long have you been cheating on me?”
“*What?* How could you even think that?”
“Then who’s *this*?” She jabbed at Emily’s photo.
“Just an old schoolmate. Found her by accident.” Guilt prickled, though he’d done nothing wrong.
“‘*Just*,’” Lucy echoed. “Mum mentioned you had some great love in school. Still hung up on her? Is that why you named our daughter Margot?”
Her voice stayed steady, but her fingers trembled. “All these years, you’ve been building this life—house, car, your fancy job—for *her*. To prove you’re not just some small-town boy. You wanted her to see what she walked away from.”
Liam flushed. She wasn’t wrong.
“Thing is, you can’t undo the past. You’re chasing the girl you fell for, but she’s grown. She’s got her own life, her own family. Doubt she’d toss it for you.”
Lucy took a shaky breath. “HonLiam walked away from Emily’s parents’ flat for the last time, the weight of the past finally lifting as he hurried home to Lucy and Margot, where he truly belonged.
