Hey love, let me tell you this wild drama thats been playing out around Stella Harper. So Stella runs her own chain of jewellery shops right in London the business got off the ground thanks to her dads connections, and now shes a solid, selfmade woman in her forties. Shes always at the top of society pages, popping up on glossy magazine covers, rubbing shoulders with actors, pop singers, barristers you name it. Shes raising her son, Mark, and everything seems perfectly stitched together except for one thing: love.
Stella lives alone in a spacious fivebedroom flat and feels terribly isolated, even though on the surface it looks like shes got it all.
Now, little Stella grew up in a sleepy market town called York with her Gran, Margaret. When Stella was barely seven, her parents were headhunted to London for a contract job and left her in Grans care. Gran adored her, my darling girl, shed say.
As a teen, Stella fell for a classmate named Charlie Whitaker. He felt the same. Both were sixteen, and Gran whod raised five kids herself just waved it off. What didnt we all do at sixteen? Young hearts run wild, shed chuckle, swishing her arm away. Stella and Charlie got deeper into each others world, oblivious to anyone else. After school they both headed to university, and on their first term Stella blurted out to Charlie, Get ready, youre going to be a dad.
Charlie grinned, Always ready! But within a month, Stella snatched her university papers and bolted back to London to stay with her parents. Charlie was left standing in the hall, clueless. He ran to Grans house and she scolded him, What were you thinking, love? You cant raise a kid on textbooks. A child isnt a toy, you need a proper life for him.
He typed a quick note to Stella, and she replied, Come over. So he rushed to London, knocked on the door, and was greeted by Stellas mother, Anne Whitaker. Hello, Im Charlie. Ive come to see Stella, he said. Anne invited him in, led him to the kitchen, and Charlie thought, Guess Im not getting a bedroom invitation. Turns out Stella wasnt home.
Anne, with a sigh, said, Charlie, listen. Leave our family alone. Forget Stella. Charlie begged, Can I just wait for her? She replied, Shes at a health retreat and wont be back for two weeks. Youve done all you could. Well sort it out ourselves. She stood up, as if signalling the end of the lecture, and Charlie left, sitting a bit on the steps before heading to the station.
For Charlie, Stellas name became a holy relic it means star in Latin either a guiding star or a lighthouse he kept aiming for. He threw himself back into his studies, wondering whether to storm back into Stellas life or just move on. First loves are stubborn, arent they?
A few years later, when Stella gave birth to Mark, Charlie tried again, swinging by Annes house with a pile of birthday gifts for the baby. You cant buy us gratitude, love, Anne snapped. Well raise Mark without you. We cant afford to have our daughter living off cheap drinks and porridge. Do your own thing. Charlie walked away, shoulders slumped.
A mate of his tried to stir the pot, saying, Watch out for a rich fatherinlaw, theyre a nightmare. So Charlie kept nursing that ache for Stella, while she never really responded. You cant bag sunshine in a sack, right? Time just slipped away.
Then came Milly Barker a proper English lass who fell headoverheels for Charlie. They ended up having a daughter, Julia. In the early years of their marriage, Charlie soaked up Millys love like a sponge. Before they wed, he confessed, I used to dream about someone else. Milly, hurt but fierce, replied, Your words cut deep, love, but Ill survive and fight for you. Our love will be enough for both of us.
Charlie later became mayor of his little town, yet Stella still lingered in his heart. Over time, he started dropping by London, meeting his grownup son Mark. Stella eventually remarried; her husband turned out to be a perfect match for Anne, whod even picked him out for her daughter.
Five years on, after living with her husband in London for a while, Stella chose solitude again and moved back to York. When Mark turned fourteen, teenage dramas erupted. Charlie, my sons out of control! Come help! Stella shouted into the phone. He dropped everything and sped to London to rescue his old love.
Milly, watching Charlie leave, would sit by the window, tears streaming, because after years together shed grown used to Stellas midnight calls. Whenever Charlie rushed to the bathroom, whispering something tender to Stella, Milly was left playing secondfiddle, never sure if her husband truly valued her generosity. Her heart felt like a closed window you cant peek inside. Still, whenever Charlie returned from his trips, Milly felt a surge of joy. Hes still with me, she thought, standing on a little pedestal of bliss, determined to be the perfect wife. Shed wipe away unjust tears, stay silent when he brought home a massive plush bear for Mark, and cling to the fact that he adored their daughter Julia. Her grandmas words echoed, A wife is a bandage for a husband, a husband is a shepherd for a wife.
Spring rolled around, and Charlie was about to head to London again this time for Marks wedding. He bought the couple a twoperson holiday voucher to Greece. Amid the wedding revelry, Stella leaned over and whispered, Maybe we could start over? Charlie let out a light sigh and said, No, Stella. Its too late. Im marrying Milly. I cant find a better wife.
So thats the whole tangled mess. Cant help but think how life twists, huh? Talk later.
