First Love: A Journey of the Heart

Oliver James anxiously watches his watch, glancing every few seconds at the front door of the restaurant on Fleet Street. Around him his former schoolmates chatter nonstop, the boys and girls from years ago now looking like grownup uncles and aunts. Yet Oliver waits for Victoria Clarkehis very first, purest love. The little brass bell above the door jingles, and as the door swings open everything else blurs and loses meaning. She stands there, a bright ray of light in the gloom, slender and beautiful, her lightcopper curls spilling over her shoulders, her mischievous blue eyes sparkling.

He leaps from his seat.
Hello, Lily, he says, catching her eye.

Hi, Oliver, she replies with a smile.

In an instant Oliver feels the years roll back; its as if nothing has changed since they were teenagers standing outside their classroom, him handing her a handmade valentine. She takes it, her smile as light and warm as sunshine, showing nothing but kindness and tenderness. He takes her delicate, longfingered hands, feeling the chill of her skin.

Im so glad to see you. You look wonderful, he says.

Thanks, Im glad to see you too, she murmurs, lowering her gaze shyly, just as she had after their first kiss, blushing a little.

Suddenly a group of Lilys friends pushes him aside as they join her. The rest of the evening finds Oliver lost in his thoughts. From the start he has been infatuated with Lilylike every boy, he tugged at her braids and nudged her on the playground, never knowing how to catch her attention. He helped her carry her satchel, wrote her notes and poems. Their prom supplies the first kiss, after which they stroll through the city watching the sunrise. They begin dating, but life never mirrors a fairytale. University rolls in, bringing new friends, fresh interests, a different rhythm. At first they phone each other, then calls become rarer, and eventually they stop altogether. Later Victoria marries, Oliver also marries; both start new lives. Still, Oliver can never fully erase Lily from his mind. He loves his wife, yet a magical thread to Lily remains, a warm, familiar comfort he reaches for on his darkest days.

After several years of marriage Oliver and his wife amicably divorce, quietly and without drama. He thanks her for the mutual decision. He tries relationships with other women, but none feel right. He keeps stumbling across Lilys photos on social media, recalling with fondness their autumn walks in Hyde Park. He scolds himself for not being able to forget her.

Now, a few weeks before the school reunion, Oliver learns that Lily has also divorced. He feels a surge of excitement, almost dancing on the spot. He has been waiting for her today, eager to speak. He steps onto the restaurants doorstep with Lily.

Lily Oliver begins, his heart pounding, a cold shiver racing through his veins.

I know this sounds odd, but listen, he says, voice trembling. Ive felt this for you all my life. Its my first, pure love. Ive tried to forget you, tried, but it wont work. I didnt want to disturb you because you were married, but nowmaybe we could try. Let me take you out on a date. Im ready to do anything for you. Do you believe me?

Lily fidgets with the chain around her neck, her eyes fixed ahead, glassy.

Oliver, its flattering to hear this. I feel warm feelings for you tooperhaps its that first, untouched love. But I think we should leave it as it is, a sweet memory, not let it sour with quarrels or daily grind.

Oliver feels the world tilt, convinced Lily would say yes.

But why? Why assume wed ruin it? Maybe we could improve it. Perhaps we were meant to be together, just missed the chance.

Lily smiles, though Oliver reads the sadness in it.

Oliver, youre a good man

Dont say that, Lily, its not right, he protests.

Dont interrupt. Im a good man, butI dont love you, and I never will.

Tears well up, then he clenches his fists and storms back into the restaurant, grabs his jacket and darts out without a word, leaving Lily standing on the step, silently weeping.

Back home, Oliver wipes all his socialmedia accounts, leaves every classgroup, deletes Lilys number, and drinks heavily. Anger and longing gnaw at him, but gradually the sting eases and he returns to his routine. He tries to block out Lilys memory. A year passes unnoticed. At work, while polishing a presentation, his phone rings. He glances and sees its Natasha, a former classmate. He declines, muting the call, telling himself he isnt looking for anyone. By evening he notices twentyeight missed calls. A cats meow of annoyance echoes in his mind.

He finally calls Natasha; his heart thunders as the line connects.

Oliver, thank God you finally answered.

What do you want, Natasha? If youre asking for a date, Im not

Oliver, Lily has died.

A dry shock hits his throat; a massive weight of horror and grief crushes him, shards of pain lodging in his chest.

How did she die?

We need to meet. She asked me to tell you something. Can you come now?

I can.

They meet in a small café. Natashas makeup is smudged, tears still tracking down her cheeks.

Oliver, listen. At the reunion last year, after Lily turned you down and you left, I found her on the steps, sobbing, having a breakdown. I calmed her down and learned she was seriously ill. Doctors gave her only a few months, no exact date. She didnt want you to see her suffering; she wanted you to keep only beautiful memories of her, the first pure love. Thats why she was harshshe feared you would stay by her side in pain. She survived a full year. The funeral is tomorrow. She wanted you there.

Rain patters the morning as Oliver waits until everyone else leaves, staying alone with Lilys memory.

How could this happen, Lily? We could have spent this last year together. I could have given you all my love. I only thought of my own pain. I betrayed you. How do I go on without you? I feel like dying.

Tears mix with the rain.

Oliver, you must not die.

He turns and sees Lily, as if she were a ghost, wearing a white dress, fragile like a porcelain doll, her mischievous blue eyes and white curls untouched by the rain.

Lily?

A spectral voice whispers, My dear Oliver, I want you to live a long, fulfilling life. You will meet another woman, have children and grandchildren, travel and enjoy life. All that will happen, but you will never truly forget me, because fate brought us together, even if we missed the chance. We will meet again here after youve lived your whole life. If you end your own life, we will never see each other again. So live, love, and wait for our reunion.

Lilys hand passes through his cheek; he feels a phantom touch, closes his eyes, and when he opens them shes gone.

Alright, love, Ill wait for that day.

Years later Oliver marries, has three children and seven grandchildren, travels widely, and lives a rich, eventful life. When his time finally comes, his whole family gathers around him. He smiles, looks each person in the eye, and says,

Im off to my first, pure love. At last Ill be happy.

He takes his final breath, his face serene, a faint smile lingering as he departs.