Such is life: We lost 20 precious years, but our time has finally come!
My name is Daisy Smith, and I live in Littlemore, where the charming streets hide among the rolling hills of Oxfordshire. I could never become his beloved—fate never granted us the chance to grow close as a couple. Meanwhile, my Alex plunged into love repeatedly, offering himself to women who ended up breaking his heart. We orbited each other for two decades, but only now, as the sun begins to set on our youth, life has shown us mercy.
It all began in tenth grade when Alex joined our class. A new student, shy, and open-hearted, he immediately caught my attention. Seven months later, he fell for Lizzie, our classmate—spirited, cunning, with a mischievous smile. She pretended to reciprocate his feelings, manipulating him like a puppet. She even introduced him to her parents, who were thrilled with the “good boy.” But behind his back, Lizzie was dating Danny, the most popular guy in school. Alex turned a blind eye to the truth until he caught them together at one of her house parties. Even after that, he didn’t leave; he remained her shadow, her cover. Lizzie’s parents thought Danny was a troublemaker and didn’t allow her to see him, while Alex was their “perfect son-in-law.” He shared her with another and endured. I, his friend, listened to his excuses, his tears, his pain. This went on for years.
Then came Natalie—sweet and cheerful but not ready for a serious life. Alex dreamed of a family, of children, and when she said “yes” to his proposal, he believed it was forever. However, on the morning of the wedding, she vanished—didn’t put on the dress, didn’t make it to the registry office, just disappeared. Alex fell into a pit of despair. I was there—by then, already a colleague, his right hand at work. I watched as he buried his pain in his tasks, swearing he’d never fall in love again. But then Olivia came along—the life of the party, funny and light-hearted. Everyone adored her, and it seemed she loved them all. Alex fell for her deeply. Later, he found out she was expecting a child from another man. During the delivery, the real father showed up but didn’t acknowledge the baby. Nevertheless, Alex gave the child his surname, raising him as his own. Olivia continued to be unfaithful, and he endured it all—for the child, for the love that burned within him. Until she dropped a bombshell: she invited him to be a godfather at her wedding to another man. Alex agreed—he stayed to care for her son, justifying her flightiness.
Next, there was Mary—a demanding princess. She forced him to take her to fancy restaurants, serve breakfast in bed, and plan luxurious vacations. For three years, he bent over backward for her until she threw a fit on a delayed flight. She broke up with him mid-air, yelling that he wasn’t worthy of her. Then came Julia—insanely jealous. Alex—loyal and devoted—never gave her a reason. But she despised me, his friend. We worked together, inseparable like siblings. Julia demanded he quit—because of me, she claimed. We spent entire days together, but there was nothing between us except friendship. I loved him secretly, and he was oblivious to it. I had a boyfriend, Michael, who knew my heart was with someone else. He accepted it, lived with me, as if waiting for a miracle. And Alex continued to dive into new romances, believing in their sincerity. Thus, we drifted apart for ten years.
Ten years later, we ran into each other at a café in Littlemore’s square. Time stood still. We talked for hours, laughed, reminisced. I hadn’t married, and neither had he. Over the years, he had gone through three more hollow relationships, and I had broken up with Michael—he found someone who gave him her all. I had waited for Alex. “I’ll never find true love to spend my life with. It seems I’m not worthy,” he said, staring into an empty cup. That’s when I couldn’t hold back—I grabbed his hand and kissed him. He pulled away: “What are you doing? Don’t pity me!” Pity? I only pitied myself—for the years of silence. “Alex, can’t you see? I’ve loved you since school!” I blurted out, trembling. He froze. Admitted he too had loved me, but saw me just as a friend, feared asking, feared destroying what we had. Our blindness cost us twenty years.
Now, we’ve been together for 22 years. Recently, our daughter, Lizzie, confided in us: she’s in love. Her boyfriend is a good, genuine lad, and I can see how he cherishes her. What did I tell her? “Don’t wait twenty years like we did. Live your love now.” Alex and I lost so much time, but our moment finally arrived. I thank fate for every day beside him—for his kindness, for his heart, which sought me out in others’ arms for so long. Life is harsh, but sometimes it gives you a second chance. We’ve seized it—and we’ll never let go.
