**Second Chance**
“We got in! Woohoo!” Emily shrieked, throwing her arms up in triumph.
“Keep it down, will you?” Lily muttered, catching the disapproving glare of an elderly woman walking past.
“I can’t help it! I want everyone to celebrate with me!” Emily jumped up and down, giddy with excitement. A man shook his head, while two lads nearby grinned and gave them thumbs-up.
“Enough, Em, you’re making a scene,” Lily snapped.
“You’re such a bore, Lil. Listen, I’m starving. Fancy grabbing a bite?”
“Fine,” Lily agreed quickly, if only to make Emily stop shouting.
At the café, they ordered juice and a pizza to share. When the waitress brought their food, Emily eagerly snatched a slice and took a big bite.
“Mmm… heavenly! I could eat a whole pizza by myself, bet you!” she mumbled through a full mouth.
Lily reached for her own slice, then hesitated.
“Go on, have it. I’m not even hungry.”
“Come on, can’t you take a joke?” Emily stopped chewing. “Eat, or I’ll be cross. So, what’re you doing till term starts?”
“Don’t know. Resting, I suppose. Saving energy for lectures.”
“We’re off to Cornwall the day after tomorrow. Fancy joining?” Emily grabbed another slice.
“And how? It’s peak season—no tickets left. I’ll be fine at home.”
“God, I’m selfish. Should’ve thought. Sorry. Next year, you’re definitely coming,” Emily promised.
“Assuming we make it till next summer,” Lily quipped dryly.
“Oi, that bloke at the next table hasn’t stopped staring at you,” Emily whispered, nudging her.
“Who?” Lily spun around and locked eyes with a guy with messy curls. He grinned, his glasses glinting in the light.
Lily flushed and looked away.
“Not bad, ey? Reminds me of that actor. Oh—he’s coming over,” Emily hissed.
“Mind if I join you?” a voice asked behind Lily.
“Go on,” Emily nodded at the empty chair.
“Cheers. I’m William,” he said, sitting down.
“Bit grand, isn’t it?” Emily snorted.
“Spot on. Means ‘strong-willed protector.’ Family name—passes down every other generation. My grandad was William James, my dad James William, and now me.”
“Why skip a generation?” Lily asked.
“Tradition. They’d keep trying till a boy popped up. Always did, every time.” He turned to Lily. “And you are?”
“I’m Emily. Just Em,” she said, offering her hand. “This is Lily.”
William shook it, then stared at Lily again.
“That’s a lovely name.”
“Right, you two chat. I’ve got to dash.” Emily stood abruptly.
“Em, where are you going?” Lily panicked.
“Honest, I’ve got packing. Cornwall, remember?” She winked and left.
“Hope you’re not in a rush?” William asked hopefully.
“No, but—”
“Brilliant. Fancy a film? Or just a walk?”
“You always this forward?” Lily raised an eyebrow.
“Only when I fancy someone.”
“It’s been five minutes!”
“First impressions count, yeah?” He smirked.
She sighed. “Fine. Film it is.”
The movie was good—half-empty cinema, midweek. His hand found hers in the dark. She only pulled away when the lights came up.
“Walk you home?” he asked outside.
“Mum’s expecting me.”
“Alright. Mind if I tag along?”
They talked easily, laughing at his jokes. It felt light, uncomplicated.
“Here we are,” she said, disappointed.
“You live with your mum?”
“Yeah. You?”
“Dad. Parents split. Stepdad was a nightmare—always lecturing me. Stepmum’s… something else, but at least she ignores me.” He hesitated. “I really like you. Meet me here tomorrow? Noon?”
Lily nodded and dashed inside.
By term start, they were inseparable—young, reckless, swept up.
“Lil, let’s move in together,” William blurted one day.
“We’ve only just met. We’re skint! We’re students!”
“Got Nan’s flat. Dad’ll sort it. Scared your mum’ll say no? We’ll get married. I can work nights—”
“I dunno… seems daft.”
“Da—knew you’d chicken out.”
“I’m not scared!” she fired back.
“Really? Lily, I adore you!” He spun her around, her heart soaring.
They married quickly. His dad gave them savings—”Be thrifty.” But it vanished fast.
William took night shifts at a burger joint. Exhausted, he dozed in lectures, failed exams.
“Pasta *again*?” he scowled, dragging in near midnight.
“Can’t afford meat,” she sighed.
“So I’m not earning enough? That it?”
“No! But you’ll fail uni at this rate. We can’t keep doing this. You’re snapping at me—what next? Maybe we should call it quits before we start hating each other.”
“Don’t be dramatic. I’m just knackered.”
“I can’t watch you burn out.” She bit her lip. “I don’t love you anymore.”
“Liar.” He pulled her close.
“I don’t,” she repeated, wrenching free. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”
They argued. Finally, he snapped, “Just go.”
She did. The divorce was swift.
Rarely crossing paths on campus, she’d see him with other girls, pretending not to notice her. Nights were tears muffled into pillows. She’d nearly confessed a hundred times—she’d lied to make it easier. But then what? The same cycle. So she stayed silent, aching.
Dating others felt hollow. No one compared.
Years passed.
She bumped into Emily at a shop. Married, kids, glowing. Over tea, Emily prodded, “Still hung up on William?”
“Don’t be daft. Kids playing house—we quit before it turned nasty.”
“Then why not settle down? You’re not exactly hideous.”
“Dunno. Maybe I’m not cut out for it.”
“Rubbish! Women are meant for family.”
“Oh, sod off.”
A week later, Emily called. Same café where they’d met William.
“Did you pick this place on purpose?” Lily asked sharply.
“Sorry, didn’t think—”
“Drop it.”
Their order came.
“Remember that pizza? Nothing tastes like that anymore,” Emily mused, stirring her tea. Her eyes kept darting past Lily.
“Who’re you—” Lily turned.
William walked in—shorter hair, no glasses, two bouquets.
*You set this up?* she seethed at Emily.
“You two love each other. Sort it out.”
“Hey, girls,” William said, eyes fixed on Lily. He handed them each flowers. “Mind if I—?” He sat.
Emily stood. “Right, I’m off.”
Lily bolted up. “It’s too early for the nursery—”
“Stay. Thanks, Will.” Emily left.
*Did you plan this?* Lily rounded on him.
“Nah. Emily rang. Said we should talk.” His voice softened. “I never forgot you. And you never married. She told me.”
“Oh? So you dated others but pined for me?” Bitterness laced her words, even as her heart hammered.
“Didn’t date anyone. Wanted to make you jealous. Thought you’d come back.” He searched her face. “Did you really stop loving me?”
She stayed silent.
“Lil, we were good together. Just stupid kids—no money, no clue. Maybe we try again? Properly, this time.”
“Another quickie wedding? We’re different now.”
“We’ll take it slow. Relearn each other.” He cupped her face. “Saw you and knew—it’s always been you.”
Her resolve crumbled.
They dated properly this time—space to miss each other. No rushed moves. He’d grown serious, steadier. She missed his old wildness but loved this new solidness.
“Were you married after me?” she asked once.
“Nearly. Didn’t stick. You?”
“Same.” She hesitated. “Why didn’t you fight for me?”
“Did. Stood outside your flat. Nearly called a thousand times. Terrified you’d say it again—that you didn’t love me.” He tugged her close. “Enough dawdling. Come home.”
The wedding was packed. Emily, due any day, missed it.
In white (no veil), Lily glowed. William couldn’t look away.
“Fate brought us back,” he murmured. “We rushed it beforeAs the years passed, their love only deepened, proving that sometimes, second chances are the ones that last a lifetime.