**COULDNT LOVE**
“Alright, girls, which one of you is Lily?” The woman studied us with a sly, knowing look, her eyes flicking between me and my best friend.
“Im Lily. Why?” I replied, puzzled.
“Letter for you, then. From Vincent,” she said, pulling a crumpled envelope from her coat pocket and handing it over.
“Vincent? Where is he?” I asked, my confusion deepening.
“Transferred to a care home for adults. Waited for you, Lily, like rain after a drought. Nearly wore his eyes out staring out the window. Gave me this to check for spellingdidnt want to embarrass himself in front of you. Anyway, Ive got to run. Lunch is soon. I work here as a carer.” She sighed, gave me a reproachful glance, then hurried off.
…It had all started one summer afternoon when Ellie and I, sixteen and restless, had wandered onto the grounds of an unfamiliar building. Boredom and curiosity led us to a bench where we chatted, oblivious until two lads approached.
“Hello there. Bit lonely, are we? Mind if we join?” The taller one, Vincent, offered a hand. “Im Vincent.”
“Lily,” I said. “This is Ellie. And your quiet friend?”
“Leonard,” the other mumbled.
They seemed oddly old-fashioned, too proper. Vincent frowned. “Why do you wear such short skirts? And Ellie, that necklines a bit much, isnt it?”
We laughed. “Lads, try not to stare too hard. Wouldnt want your eyes to pop out.”
“Hard not to. Were only human. You dont smoke, do you?” Vincent pressed, ever the moralist.
“Course we do. Just not properly,” Ellie teased.
Only then did we notice something off about their legsVincent shuffled awkwardly, Leonard had a pronounced limp.
“You here for treatment?” I guessed.
“Yeah. Motorbike crash,” Vincent recited. “Len took a bad dive off a cliff. Well be out soon.”
We believed them. Back then, we didnt know they were lifelong residents of the care home, their injuries congenital. Their “accidents” were well-rehearsed lies. To us, they were just two clever, bookish lads, wise beyond their years.
Ellie and I started visiting weeklypartly out of pity, partly because they fascinated us. It became routine. Vincent would pluck flowers from the garden for me; Leonard folded origami creatures for Ellie, bashfully pressing them into her hands. Wed sit four to a bench, Leonard turned toward Ellie, who flushed but never refused his quiet devotion.
Summer faded into a damp autumn. School swallowed us whole. Exams, graduationVincent and Leonard slipped our minds entirely.
…Until, months later, we returned on a whim. We waited on the bench, expecting them to appear any moment, flowers and paper cranes in hand. No one came.
Then the carer dashed out, letter in hand.
Inside, Vincents words spilled out:
*”Dearest Lily, my sweet blossom, my distant star. You never guessed, but I loved you from the first glance. Those afternoons were my only breath of life. Six months Ive watched the window, waiting. You forgot me. Our paths split, but thank youyou taught me love. I remember your voice, your laugh, your hands. I ache without you. One more glimpse, one more breath but theres nothing left to breathe.
Len and I turned eighteen. Theyre moving us come spring. Doubt well meet again. My hearts in tatters. Maybe one day Ill recover.
Goodbye, my darling.”*
*Forever yours, Vincent*
A dried flower fluttered out. Shame twisted in my chest. Too late to fix anything. That old saying echoed: *Were responsible for those we tame.*
Id had no idea of the storm inside him. I couldnt love him backnot like that. Just friendly curiosity, a bit of teasing. Never meant to stoke a fire I couldnt put out.
…Years passed. The letter yellowed; the flower crumbled. But I remember those careless afternoons, Vincents jokes, the way we laughed like time would never run out.
Theres more. Ellie, soft-hearted, fell for Leonardabandoned as a baby for his “difference,” one leg shorter than the other. She became a teacher at a care home. Married him. Two grown sons now.
Vincent, Leonard said, lived alone. At forty, his estranged mother finally came, wept, took him to her village. After thatsilence.
