One Love Forever
“Hey, what are you up to? Fancy meeting up?”
“Where?”
“Our usual café.”
“Perfect. Im already here, waiting.” Anton slipped his phone into his pocket, still grinning.
He and Natasha had gone to school together. She was lovely, gracefulthe object of his dreams. He, on the other hand, was nothing special, just a bloke hopelessly in love. Sure, he wasnt tall or classically handsome, but since when was love just about looks? If shed only given him a chance, shed have seen all his other qualities.
Like a devoted squire, he followed her everywhere. Natasha accepted his attention kindly but never returned his feelings. He watched her with one bloke, then another, burning with jealousy. Out of spite, he dated other girls, but none of them compared. He couldnt stop loving her.
“Hi!” Natasha slid into the seat across from him.
Anton was so lost in thought he hadnt even noticed her arrive.
“Hi.” He couldnt hide the desperate joy in his voice or tear his eyes away.
“Earth to Anton!” She laughed, bright and clear.
He glanced away, his chest aching with the urge to pull her close. A man at the next table was staring at Natasha too. Anton barely stopped himself from snapping, “Eyes off, mateshes mine!” Except she never had been.
“Fetch me a coffee?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
Anton hurried to the counter and returned with two steaming mugs and Natashas favourite slice of cake. He dumped sugar into his drink and stirred, lost in thought.
“Something wrong?” Natasha studied him, the mischief gone.
“Nah. Just wanted to see you.” He slid a fridge magnet across the table.
“Thanks!” She turned it over in her hands, examining it.
Theyd met here for years, in this café that always smelled of roasted beans. Ten years ago, in this very spot, hed confessed his love. Shed said he was sweet, but they could only ever be friends.
“Look aroundplenty of lovely girls here. You could make any of them happy.”
“But not you?” Anton asked.
“Sorry.”
Hed been so furious they nearly rowed. Natasha warned him thenif he kept pushing, shed cut him off. Terrified, he backed down. If this was all he gotoccasional coffees, fleeting momentshed take it. Maybe someday
After that, he bit his tongue, never mentioning his feelings. He tried moving ondated, even married, hoping itd kill his love for Natasha.
She saw his wedding photos online, congratulated him sincerely. He didnt reply. Later, he posted honeymoon snaps from a tropical island, waiting for her reaction. It took ages. Maybe she was busy. Finally, she liked every photo, commenting how happy he looked with his wife, how shed love to visit someday.
*You couldve been there with me,* hed thought bitterly.
He called her, suggesting the café. They exchanged messages, he sent flowers on her birthday and Mothers Day, brought back souvenirs from holidays abroad. She liked his posts; he read too much into her enthusiasm. Natasha listened to his travel tales, admired his tanbut whenever he hinted at wanting *her* beside him in those far-off places, shed tuck the souvenir away, thank him, and leave.
Years passed. He divorcedhis wife couldnt have children, and he longed for a family. But Natasha had her own life. Then she married.
The jealousy was unbearable. He dated wildly, trying to erase her. Nothing worked.
One day, her social media showed a tiny hand with a hospital tagher sons name and birth date. Anton congratulated her, howling inside. *That shouldve been my child.*
He married again. When Ksenia gave birth to their daughter, Anya, he almost believed happiness without Natasha was possible. He posted gushing tributes to his girls, avoided Natashas profile.
Done. Hed moved on.
Then he left his phone at home. Ksenia snooped, found old chats with Natasha. Nothing damning, but the mere fact She stormed through his social media, spotting his comments on Natashas photos.
The moment he walked in, she exploded. Why keep old messages? Why flirt with a married woman? “Were just friends!” meant nothing. Ksenia screamed, threatened acid, poison
“You wont.”
“Try me.” Her eyes terrified him. He swore to cut contact.
They “made up,” but the air stayed icy. Even Anyas laughter couldnt thaw it.
Then Natasha called.
He flew to the café. Shed changedstill beautiful, but dimmed. Her husband was cheating; she wanted a divorce. Tears glistened.
“Your husbands a fool. Want me to punch him?”
She refused, asked about him.
“Messy. Married the wrong woman. Headed for divorce.”
“But youve a daughter!”
“Your husband had a sondidnt stop him.” He sighed. “Ive been with so many women Only Ksenia got pregnant. Thought it was me. But Natasha I cant forget you.”
“Are you mad? That schoolboy crush? Its been *years*were *friends*.”
“Your decision, not mine,” he muttered.
She covered his hand. “I shouldnt have called. Im selfishleading you on. Ill go.”
“Wait.” He gripped her fingers. “You *are* selfish. You invented this friendship so Id stick around. Never cared how I felt. You call when *youre* hurting. I married to forget you. Youre my whats that *Twilight* line? My own personal brand of heroin. Pathetic, right?”
Natasha gaped. Gentle Anton, exploding?
He stood, tossed cash on the table, and left.
Driving aimlessly, he cursed himself, her, the universe. He wanted to scream, floor the acceleratorend the pain.
*Whats so special about her? Beautiful, cold. Shell fade. Be alone. Too late then.* He stopped calling, liking her posts. He noticed shed divorced.
Months later, they bumped into each other at a shop. She was with her son. Still stunningsofter, happier.
“Hi! Whereve you been?”
“Nowhere. Still here. You? Not remarried?”
“Ugh, no. Men are off the menu. Still recovering.” She smiled at her boy. “Were fine, right?”
“Right,” the child agreed.
Anton swallowed his *I still love you.*
“Need a lift?”
“Ive got the car.”
“Then Ill walk you.”
At her car, she hugged him. “Good seeing you.”
“You too.”
He memorised her number plate, followed her home, honking, flashing lights like teenagers. She laughed, beeped back, turned into her drive. He drove on.
“Whereve you been? Shopping on the moon? Wheres the food?” Ksenia pounced.
Hed forgotten everything seeing Natasha.
“Met *her* again, didnt you? Shes free nowwhy dont you divorce me properly?”
They did. It was ugly. Ksenia limited his time with Anya. His mother berated him.
One cold day, he took Anya to an indoor playcentre. And there was Natasha, with her son.
The children played. *We look like a family. If only.* His chest seizeddarkness swallowed him.
“Anton! Call an ambulance!” Natashas voice.
*Someones ill,* he thought, then blacked out.
Waking on a stretcher, his lungs crushed, he heard Natasha: “Dont worry, Ill take Anya home.” Her face blurred above him.
“Step aside, maam,” a paramedic said, shutting the doors.
She visited next day.
“You scared me! I thoughtheart attack. Thank God it wasnt.”
“Ill go. Dont want to run into your wife. She said awful things when I brought Anya”
“She wont come. Natasha will you visit tomorrow?”
Discharged a week later, they sat in the café.
“Should you be drinking coffee?”
“One wont hurt.”
“When you collapsed I was terrified. Remembered school, your souvenirs, our coffees Imagined losing you Weve known each other so long, its like a marriage. Passion fadeswhats left matters more. Maybe we could try?”
“Natasha” His voice broke.
All those years, and it took a near-death experience to hear *yes*.
Next day, he dragged her to the registry office.
“You just divorced! Lets not rushjust see how it goes?”
“No. What if you change your mind?”
Their wedding was quietjust the café. Theyd holiday later. Natasha longed to see the ocean, but refused to revisit his honeymoon spots. He suggested the Canarieseternal spring, black volcanic sand, exotic birds. Sometimes, yellow clouds hoveredsand blown from the Sahara.
At night, with her son asleep, they lay listening to the waves.
“Natasha Im so happy.”
“Me too. All that wasted time.”
“Well make up for it. Weve got forever.”
