The Sweetness of First Love

Oliver Smith stands tense outside a London bistro, eyes darting between his watch and the swinging door. Around him his old classmates chatter endlessly, the boys and girls who were once schoolchildren now looking like uncles and aunts.

He is waiting for Emily Clarke, his first, pure love. The little bell above the door rings, and when he finally looks up, everything else fades; she stands in the doorway like a bright beam in darkness. Shes slender, striking, and with each passing year she only grows more beautifullight curls framing her shoulders, mischievous blue eyes.

Oliver leaps from his seat.

Hello, Em, he says.

Hi, Oliver, she replies with a smile.

He feels the years unwind, as if nothing has changed. They stand by the old school doors and he hands her a valentine. She accepts it, her smile warm and light, showing nothing but kindness.

He takes her handsdelicate, long fingers, cool to the touch.

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

Thank you, Im happy to see you too, Emily answers, lowering her gaze shyly, just as she did after their first kiss.

Suddenly a group of Emilys friends push Oliver aside as they rush to greet her. The rest of the evening finds him lost in thought.

He fell for Emily at first sight, like every boy who tugged at her braids and shoved her at break, never quite knowing how to get her attention. He helped her carry her satchel, wrote her cards and poems. At graduation they share their first kiss, then wander through town watching the sunrise. After that they start dating. But life isnt a fairytale. University pulls them in different directions. New friends, new interests, new routines. At first they only call, then the calls become rarer, then stop altogether. Later Emily marries, Oliver also marries. Both lead new lives, yet Oliver can never push Emily from his mind. He loves his wife, but a magical part of him always keeps Emily alive deep inside, a warm, familiar comfort he clings to on his darkest days.

After several years of marriage Oliver and his wife part amicably, quietly, with mutual consent, and he is grateful. He tries to start relationships with other women, but nothing feels right. He keeps stumbling on Emilys photos on social media, remembering their walks in the park among autumn lanes. He berates himself for not being able to forget her.

Now the school reunion is weeks away, and Oliver learns that Emily is divorced. He feels a surge of excitement, almost dancing in place. He has been waiting for today, eager to speak with her. He steps onto the porch together with her.

Em, Oliver starts, heart pounding, a chill running through his body, desperate to say everything he has long held inside.

I know this sounds strange, but listen. I have felt for you my whole life. Dont laugh. This is my first, pure love. I tried to forget you, I tried, but I cant. I didnt want to bother you because you were married. Now, maybe we could try. Let me ask you out. I want to be near you and would do anything for you. Do you believe me?

Emily fidgets with the chain around her neck, her gaze distant, glassy.

Oliver, its lovely to hear this. I feel warm feelings for you too, maybe its that first, untainted love. But I think we should leave it as it is, not tarnish it with arguments or routine. Let it stay a pleasant memory.

Oliver feels his world collapse, convinced Emily will not reject him.

Emily, why? Why do you think wed ruin it? Maybe we could improve it. Perhaps were meant to be together, and we just missed the chance.

Emily smiles, but Oliver reads the sadness behind it.

Oliver, youre a good man

Dont say that, Emily, it sounds harsh.

Dont interrupt, youre good, but I Emily takes a breath, I dont love you, and I never will.

Olivers ears ring, tears well up, then he clenches his fists and rushes back into the restaurant, grabs his jacket and storms out without saying goodbye, not noticing Emily crying on the porch.

Back in a fury, Oliver deletes all his social media, leaves every classgroup, erases Emilys number and drinks heavily.

He is angry and mournful, but eventually the hurt eases and he goes on living, trying to erase every trace of Emily. A year slips by unnoticed. Oliver is prepping a work project, editing a presentation, when his phone rings. The screen shows Natasha classmate. He grimaces; he isnt looking to date anyone, so he silences it. Work consumes him, and later he sees twentyeight missed calls. Somewhere deep inside a cats hiss echoes.

He calls Natasha back; his heart races as it rings.

Oliver, thank God, I thought youd never answer.

Natasha, what do you want? If its about meeting, Im not

Oliver, Emily is dead.

Olivers mouth goes dry. A massive block of horror and grief crashes over him, shards lodging in his heart.

Howdead?

We need to meet, I have something to tell you. She asked can you meet now?

I can.

They meet at a café. Natasha is in tears, despite heavy makeup.

Oliver, listen. A year ago, at the reunion, when she turned you down and you left, I found her on the porch, crying, having a panic attack. When I calmed her, I learned Emily was seriously ill. Doctors gave a grim prognosis, only a few months left. She didnt want you to see her suffering, wanted you to keep only beautiful memories of her as your first pure love. Thats why she was harsh. She knew if she told you about the illness you wouldnt leave, and she didnt want you to be sad later. She held on for a whole year. Her funeral is tomorrow. Please come, she wanted that very much. Natasha wipes away fresh tears and leaves.

The next morning rains. Oliver waits until everyone leaves, so he is alone with Emilys spirit.

How could this happen, Emily? We could have spent this last year together. I could have given you all my love. I should have understood, guessed, but I only thought of my own pain. I betrayed you. I should have come to you and talked. How do I live now? I cant imagine life without you. I just want to die.

Tears mingle with rain.

Oliver, you must not die.

Oliver turns. Emily stands there, beautiful in a white dress, as fragile as a porcelain doll, mischievous blue eyes, white curls untouched by the rain.

Emily?

A ghost appears before him.

My dear Oliver, I want you to live a long, full life. You will meet another woman, have children and grandchildren, travel and enjoy life. All this will happen, but you will never truly forget me, because we were meant for each other, though we missed the chance. We will be reunited here after you finish your life. If you end your life now, youll never see me again. So live, love, and wait for our meeting.

Emily brushes his cheek; her hand passes through him, yet he feels a touch, closes his eyes. When he opens them, shes gone.

Alright, love, Ill wait for our meeting.

Years later Oliver marries, has three children and seven grandchildren, travels widely and lives a rich life. When his time comes, his family gathers around him.

He smiles and, bidding farewell, says, Im going to my first, pure love. At last I will be happy.

He takes one last breath and passes away, a smile on his face.