Such is life: We lost 20 precious years, but our time has come!
My name is Laura Smith, and I live in the charming town of Ashford, tucked away in the gentle embrace of Kent’s rolling countryside. I was never able to become his favorite—fate kept us apart as a couple. Meanwhile, Alex threw himself into love over and over, giving his heart to women who broke it time and again. For twenty years, we danced around each other, but only now, in the twilight of our youth, has life shown mercy on us.
It all began in the tenth grade when Alex joined our class. New, shy, and with an open heart, he immediately caught my eye. Seven months later, he fell for Lisa, our classmate—lively, cunning, with a mischievous smile. She pretended to reciprocate his feelings, stringing him along like a puppet. She even introduced him to her parents, who were thrilled with the “good boy” he was. Behind his back, Lisa was seeing the most popular boy in school, Matt. Alex turned a blind eye to the truth until he found them together at a party at her house. Even then, he didn’t leave—he remained her shadow, her cover. Lisa’s parents thought Matt was a troublemaker and forbade her from seeing him, while Alex was their “ideal son-in-law.” He shared her with another and endured it. I, his friend, listened to his justifications, his tears, his pain. This went on for years.
Then there was Natalie—sweet, cheerful, but not ready for a serious life. Alex dreamed of a family and children, and when she said “yes” to his proposal, he believed it was forever. But on the morning of the wedding, she vanished—never wore the dress, never stepped through the registry office door, simply disappeared. Alex plunged into a pit of despair. I was by his side—already a colleague, his right hand at work. I witnessed how he buried his pain in tasks, swearing never to fall in love again. But then came Olivia—the life of the party, funny and light-hearted. Everyone adored her, and it seemed she loved everyone in return. Alex fell for her without hesitation. Then he discovered: she was expecting a child by another. The child’s real father showed up during the birth but didn’t acknowledge the baby. Alex gave the child his surname, raised him as his own. Olivia cheated over and over, 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 a new man. Alex agreed—stayed to care for her son, justifying her fickleness.
Next came Maria—demanding, like a spoiled princess. She made him take her to restaurants, serve breakfast in bed, and organize luxury holidays. For three years, he bent over backward for her until she had a meltdown on a plane over a one-hour flight delay. Right there in the air, she broke up with him, shouting that he was unworthy of her. Then there was Julia—jealous to the point of madness. Alex—faithful and devoted—never gave her any reason. But she resented me, his friend. We worked together, inseparable, like brother and sister. Julia demanded that he quit his job—because of me. At home, she said he talked about me too much. Yes, we spent all day together, but there was nothing between us but friendship. I loved him secretly, and he didn’t see it. My boyfriend, Michael, knew my heart was occupied by another. He accepted it, lived with me like waiting for a miracle. And Alex vanished into new romances, believing in their sincerity. We drifted apart for ten years.
A decade later, we bumped into each other at a café on Ashford’s town square. Time stopped. We talked for hours, laughed, reminisced. I hadn’t married, and neither had he. Over the years, he had endured three more meaningless relationships, while I parted ways with Michael—he found the one who gave him her all. I was waiting for Alex. “I don’t think I’ll ever find true love, the kind with which I’ll spend my life. I guess I’m not deserving,” he said, staring into his empty cup. And then I couldn’t hold back—I grabbed his hand and kissed him. He recoiled, “What are you doing? Don’t out of pity!” Pity? I pitied only myself—for the years of silence. “Alex, can’t you see? I’ve loved you since school!” I burst out, trembling. He froze. Admitted he loved me too but saw me only as a friend, feared asking, feared destroying what we had. We lost twenty years because of this blindness.
Now we’ve been together for 22 years. Just recently, our daughter Lisa shared that she’s in love. Her boyfriend is good, genuine, I can see how he adores her. What did I tell her? “Don’t wait twenty years like we did. Live your love now.” Alex and I missed so much time, but our moment has arrived. And I thank fate for every day by his side—for his kindness, for his heart that searched for me in others’ arms for so long. Life is harsh, but sometimes it offers a second chance. We grabbed it—and will never let go.
