Second Chance
“We got in! Hurrah!” shouted Emily, throwing her hands in the air.
“Keep it down,” muttered Charlotte, noticing the disapproving glance of an elderly woman walking past.
“I can’t help it! I want everyone to celebrate with me!” Emily jumped up and down, grinning.
A man shook his head, while two lads nearby gave them thumbs up and grinned back.
“Honestly, Em, you’re drawing attention,” Charlotte huffed.
“You’re such a bore, Lottie. Listen, I’m starving. Fancy a bite at the café?”
“Fine,” Charlotte agreed quickly, just to stop her friend’s exuberance.
At the café, they ordered juice and a pizza to share.
When the waitress brought their food, Emily rubbed her hands together, grabbed a slice, and took a big bite.
“Mmm… divine! I bet I could eat this whole pizza myself,” she mumbled through a full mouth.
Charlotte reached for her own slice but paused.
“Go ahead. I’m not that hungry,” she said.
“Lottie, can’t you take a joke? Eat, or I’ll be cross. What are your plans before term starts?”
“Dunno. Just resting, I suppose. Getting ready for lectures.”
“We’re off to Brighton day after next. Fancy coming?” Emily asked, already reaching for another slice.
“How? It’s peak season—no tickets left. I’ll manage fine at home.”
“God, I’m selfish. Should’ve thought. Sorry. Next summer, you’re definitely coming,” Emily promised.
“Assuming we survive till then,” Charlotte said drily.
“Oi, that bloke at the next table hasn’t stopped staring at you,” Emily whispered, nudging her.
“Who?” Charlotte turned abruptly and locked eyes with a curly-haired lad.
He flashed her a broad smile, his glasses glinting.
Charlotte flushed and looked away.
“Not bad, eh? Reminds me of that actor from telly. Blimey, he’s coming over,” Emily hissed.
“Mind if I join you?” came a voice behind Charlotte.
“Sure,” Emily nodded toward the empty chair.
“Ta. I’m William,” the lad introduced himself as he sat down.
“Bit posh, isn’t it?” Emily snorted.
“Spot on. Means ‘resolute protector.’ Family tradition—every other generation gets the name. Granddad was William James, Dad was James William, and here I am, William James again.”
“What if it’s a girl?” Emily asked, overly intrigued.
“Plenty of girls in the family, but they kept at it till a lad came along. Always did. And you are?” He turned to Charlotte.
“Margaret. Call me Maggie,” Emily cut in, sticking out her hand. “This is Charlotte.”
William shook it but kept his gaze on Charlotte.
“Lovely name.”
“Right, you two chat. I’ve got to dash,” Emily announced, standing.
“Em, where are you going?” Charlotte panicked.
“Relax. Just got packing to do. Brighton, remember?” She winked and strode off.
“Hope you’re not in a rush?” William asked Charlotte hopefully.
“No, but—”
“Brilliant. Fancy a film? Or just a stroll?”
“You always this forward?” Charlotte raised an eyebrow.
“Only when I fancy someone.”
“After five minutes?”
“Why not? First impressions count,” he shrugged.
His pleading look softened her.
“Fine. Let’s see a film. Nowt better to do.”
The movie was decent. In the near-empty cinema, William took her hand. She only pulled away when the lights came up.
“Walk you home?” he offered outside.
“Mum’s expecting me.”
“Then I’ll just tag along?”
They talked easily. William had a knack for funny stories, and Charlotte laughed more than she had in ages.
“Here we are,” she said, lingering by her doorstep.
“Shame. You live with your mum?”
“Aye. You?”
“With Dad. Parents split—both remarried. Mum’s new husband was a right pain, always lecturing. So I moved in with Dad. His wife’s… something else, but at least she ignores me.” He grinned. “I really like you. Meet me here tomorrow at noon?”
Charlotte nodded and dashed inside.
They were inseparable until term began, their romance blazing fast—the way only young love does.
“Lottie, let’s move in together,” William proposed one day.
“We’ve known each other five minutes! We’re skint students!”
“Got Gran’s flat. Dad’ll agree. Scared your mum’ll say no? We’ll marry. I’ll work nights—”
“Terrible idea,” Charlotte said flatly.
“Knew you’d chicken out.”
“I’m not scared!”
“Then yes? Charlotte, I adore you!” He lifted her, spinning her around.
In that moment, she believed they’d be happy. And for a while, they were.
They married quietly. William’s father gave them savings—meant for a wedding—with strict budgeting advice. But funds ran low fast.
William took evening shifts at a burger joint. Exhausted, he dozed in lectures, failed exams. Charlotte knew he’d flunk out if this continued.
“Pasta again?” William scowled, stumbling in past midnight.
“No money for meat,” Charlotte sighed.
“So my wages aren’t enough?” he snapped.
“No! I mean you should quit. You’ll get kicked out. This isn’t working. You’re snapping at me now—what next? Maybe we should split before we start hating each other.”
“Don’t overreact. Just tired.”
“I can’t watch you kill yourself. I don’t love you anymore.”
“Liar.” He grabbed her arm.
“I don’t,” she repeated, wrenching free. “I’ll get my things tomorrow.”
They argued for hours.
“Fine. Go,” he finally muttered.
The divorce was swift. At uni, they avoided each other—William always with some girl, pretending not to see her. Charlotte cried into her pillow, aching to confess she’d lied to force a clean break. But pride kept her silent.
She dated others, half-heartedly. No one compared. William still ruled her heart.
Years passed.
One day, she bumped into Emily in a shop. Now married with a toddler and another on the way, Emily dragged her to a café.
“Still single? Pining over William?” Emily pressed.
“Ancient history. We were kids—rushed in, fell out.”
“Then why no husband? You’re no goblin—lads everywhere!”
“Dunno. Maybe family’s not for me.”
“Nonsense! Women are meant for it—biologically!”
“Oh, shut it.”
“Sorry. Just want you happy.”
A week later, Emily called, insisting they meet—at the same café where they’d met William.
“Did you pick this place on purpose?” Charlotte eyed the room.
“Oops. Forgot it might sting.”
“I said drop it.”
Emily fidgeted, glancing past Charlotte’s shoulder. “Who’re you looking for?” Charlotte turned—and there was William, shorter hair, no glasses, two bouquets in hand.
“You set this up?” Charlotte hissed.
“Aye. You’re both daft. Talk!”
“Alright, ladies?” William beamed, handing them each flowers. “Mind if I sit?”
Emily excused herself hastily.
“You put her up to this?” Charlotte accused.
“Nope. She rang me. Charlotte, I never forgot you. You never married—Emily said.”
“So? You dated others but pined for me?”
“Didn’t date anyone properly. Wanted to make you jealous. Did you ever stop loving me?”
She stayed silent.
“We were good together. Just dumb kids, skint and clueless. Let’s try again—properly.”
Charlotte’s heart raced. Reason said no—but her pulse begged yes.
“Twelve tomorrow?” William asked.
“I’ve work.”
They started dating—slowly, deliberately. William had his own flat now, steady work. One evening, she finally asked, “Did you marry after me?”
“Nearly. Didn’t feel right. You?”
“Same.”
“Why didn’t you fight for me?”
“I did! Lurked by your house, nearly called a hundred times… I was scared.” He took her hand. “We’re adults now. Come home with me.”
This time, their wedding was grand—white dress, speeches, a honeymoon in Spain.
“Fate brought us back,” William murmured that night. “We just needed time.”
As they sat amid flowers and gifts, Charlotte finally believed it.
After all, they had forever now.