“You got yourself kicked out of university over this so-called love! We sent you to study, not to get married! As if we needed a village girl in our family,” fumed his father. Determined to put an end to their sons reckless romance, the family insisted on separation. At his fathers urging, Victor enlisted in the military.
Victoria tidied the house, replacing the wallpaper, changing the curtains, and now tackling the clutter in the attic. She thrived on orderit brought her peace.
In the farthest corner, she found a box of Victors old letters. How long had it been since she last opened it? Forgotten in her cleaning frenzy, she sat down and read one, then another, then another
Vicky and Victor had met at the Imperial College London. Victor was from the city; Vicky had come from the countryside.
She captivated him with her striking lookslong dark hair, mesmerizing eyes, and a slender frame.
They began dating. For quiet, shy Vicky, loud and impulsive Victor was a whirlwind. Every day, he devised some new way to win her affectionflowers left outside her dorm room, midnight visits to her window just to whisper goodnight. (Her room was on the ground floor.)
Loud student parties, long walks, stolen kissestheir first year flew by in a blur. They were inseparable.
But soon, Victor fell behind in his studies. Hed never been keen on “grinding away at books,” as he put it, and now love had consumed him. When he was expelled, he shrugged it off.
“Ill find work, re-enroll later, take evening classes. At least this way, I can marry you, my joy,” he told Victoria.
He took a job at a factory and announced his plans to his parents. Theyd met Vicky a few times, but their reaction was frosty.
Victor had hoped theyd understand once he explained how much he loved her. Surely theyd see he couldnt live without her!
But reality proved harsher.
“You threw away your future over a girl! We sent you to university for a degree, not a wife! A country girl, no less,” his father snapped.
To break them apart, Victor was sent awayenlisted at his fathers insistence.
Vicky ached without him. His letters were her only solaceso tender, so full of passion.
Then, suddenly, they stopped. A month passed. Two. Half a yearnothing. Vicky was beside herself.
“It happens,” said Simon, a mutual friend. “Feelings fade when youre apart. Maybe it wasnt lovejust infatuation.”
What Vicky didnt know was that Simon had written to Victor, confessing his own love for her and claiming shed moved on. Hed begged Victor to stop writingfor her sake.
Heartbroken, Vicky threw herself into her studies. Simon was always there, his affection unwavering.
“At least let Simon be happy,” she thought, and when he proposed, she said yes.
She nearly threw Victors letters away but couldnt bring herself to. Instead, she tucked them into a box and hid them.
Life moved on.
Victors parents wasted no time informing him that Vicky had married Simon.
Years slipped bydecades, even. They lived in the same city yet never crossed paths.
Vicky heard rumorsVictor had married (not to the family friend his parents had wanted, but someone else), had a son.
Her own life, steady and calm, lacked joy. She and Simon had two daughters. Work and motherhood filled her days; there was no time for longing.
They carried on, resignedforgetting life could be bright, forgetting it could be happy.
Thirty-five years passed.
Her marriage crumbled. However hard she tried, love had never blossomed. Simon took a mistress; their grown daughters built lives of their own. Nothing held them together anymore.
After the divorce, Simon confessedhed orchestrated her separation from Victor.
Victor, too, was alone now, his family long gone.
Vicky finished the last letter. Tears streamed down her face, yet she smiled. Suddenly, she needed to knowwhere was Victor now? How had his life unfolded? Just to see him, to talk
She decided to write. His old address might still reach himor a relative who could pass it along. Victoria had always been decisive. That very evening, she penned a letter and invited him to a café near her home. Without hesitation, she dropped it into the postbox.
The next morning, she scolded herself”Why am I so foolish?”
Victor, checking his mail, froze. A letter? Rare these days. The name on the envelope made his heart stop. Time rewound as he read.
At the appointed hour, he stepped into the café, pulse racing. The room was emptyexcept for one woman at a table.
“Vicky,” he whispered.
She turned. Their eyes metthe same gaze hed remembered all these years.
They talked. They cried. They laughed.
When they left, they walked out hand in hand, determined never to part again.
P.S.
Five years have passed since that day. Victoria and Victor are inseparable, cherishing each moment.
True love never truly vanishesof that, theyre certain.
