Veronica never imagined at twenty what the future held. She studied at university, loved her boyfriend Daniel, and dreamed of a weddingtheyd already begun talking about it.
Daniel was older, having served in the military before returning to their hometowns autumn ball, where Veronica, still in secondary school, first saw him. Theyd lived in the same town, even attended the same school, though hed graduated years earlier.
*”Whos that handsome stranger?”* she thought, watching him stride into the hall. His eyes scanned the room, landing on hersthen he grinned. She fell instantly. How could she not? He was unlike any other boy shed met.
“Hey, Im Daniel,” he said, approaching. “And you are?” She blushed, stammering her name as he took her hand. “Dance with me.” His arm slid around her waist, and suddenly they were spinning.
“Veronica”
She barely felt the floor beneath her. He led with such ease, every movement in sync. “Youre a natural,” he murmured, smiling.
That night, he never left her side. He walked her home, and they lingered under the streetlamps, unwilling to part. But curfews existed, and mothers worried.
Daniel filled her days with joy. After school, she enrolled locally while he worked. His energy was infectiousfriends flocked to him, and soon Veronica was part of the crowd, attending weddings, laughing in cafés, escaping to the countryside.
Once, mid-December, he surprised her with roses. “Winters no excuse,” he teased.
By her third year, he had another surprise. “Ski trip over the holidays. Bought the tickets already. Youll learn fastthe instructors are brilliant.”
“Daniel, youre amazing!” She flung her arms around him, then pulled back, giggling. “WaitIm terrified of slopes! You knew?”
The trip was magic. She mastered the skis, loved the rush, and mourned when it ended. Then came Mothers Day. Daniel arrived with two bouquets.
“Happy Mothers Day,” he said, handing one to Veronicas mum, the other to her. “For you, love.” His lips brushed her cheek as she beamed at the blooms.
“Daniel, this is too much,” her mother fretted. “Roses in March?”
“Worth it. The lads are heading up northhigh-voltage line work, pays are huge. Ill join them. Save up for the wedding, maybe a car.”
Veronicas stomach dropped. “I dont want you to go.”
“Just three, four months tops. Well call. I want our day to be perfectdont you?”
“Id marry you in a registry office. Just stay.”
But his mind was set. He left with his mates. The money was good, the calls frequent.
Then, mid-lecture, unease prickled her skin. It passed, but that evening, her heart wouldnt settle. She dialed himno answer. Five tries. Silence.
She rang his mate, Jacob. “Wheres Daniel?”
A pause. Then, flat: “Hes gone.”
*Gone?* The line died.
“Mum!” she screamed, collapsing into sobs.
The nightmare unfolded. A live wire. A fatal shock. Daniels mother, Margaret, withered by grief, barely spoke. His father and younger brother, Thomas, fetched his body. The funeral blurred into darkness.
Veronica moved through the months numb. She visited Margaret, sat in silence, trailed her to the cemetery. Oddly, Margaret clung to her, begging her to stay close. Summer came.
“Lets go to the seaside,” Margaret said suddenly.
Veronica agreed, though she didnt know why. Her own mother urged her to let go, but guilt bound her. A week at the coast, then home.
Mornings were beach walks, afternoons stifling naps in their rented room. One day, restless, Veronica slipped out alone. The pier stretched before her, the horizon merging sea and sky. Gulls shrieked; children laughed. Life roared around her, yet she stood adrift.
“Beautifuland so sad,” a voice said.
She turned, ready to snap, but froze. The man reminded her of Danielhow, she couldnt say.
“Beautiful things dont stay happy,” she muttered.
“Not true,” he said. “Im Gregory.”
“Veronica.” A few clipped words, then she walked away. But Gregory watched her go. Hed noticed her daysalways shadowed by an older woman, never smiling.
Two days left. Margaret napped; Veronica ducked into a shop. Gregory materialized, grabbing her grocery bag. “Let me help.”
They sat at a café. “I leave in three days,” he said. “You?”
“Tomorrow night.”
His eyes widened. “Youre kidding. I live there too.”
Gregory had graduated from her uni, worked at the councils design office. Fresh from a breakup, hed come to forgetuntil he saw her.
She told him of Daniel, of Margarets grip. He frowned. “Whys she latched onto you? Usually, parents distance themselves.”
“I dont know. But I cant hurt her.”
They swapped numbers. Back at the room, Margaret scowled. “Where were you?”
Veronicas patience frayed. She couldnt breathe under Margarets weight, under the ghost of Daniel. Her mother was rightthis had to end.
That night, packing, she broached it. “When were home, I need to move on.”
Margarets stare turned sharp. “Another life? Fine. But I thought hoped you carried his child. Or maybe Thomashes a good lad”
Veronica recoiled. “No! God, no!” She wept, hard and cleansing. The truth crashed over her: Margaret wanted a replacement.
She left the next morning, resolved. Gregory waited at home. They dated; she healed. Once, alone at Daniels grave, she whispered goodbye.
At the gates, Gregory stood by the car. A new life, bright and alive. Margaret faded into the past.
By autumn, Veronica wore Gregorys ring, her belly swelling with their son. The other lifethe one shadowed by griefwas finally over.
