If only

Sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night and expect to see him beside her.

She knew that it was absolutely disloyal of her, that her husband loved her a lot, and that she should let the past quietly fade out of her life.

She did try very hard to forget him. At first she had wanted to throw out all the letters he had written, and all the gifts she had ever received from him. But as she looked through the things, her hands refused to chuck them into the dustbin.

So instead, she brought them up to the attic, and locked them up in a chest.

(Except the ring, she couldn't bring herself to stow that away. She left the ring on a chain around her neck.

When her husband asked, she said her father had given it to her.)

She blocked her mind to his memory, and mostly, it was all right. As long as she kept herself busy, she didn't really have much time to delve into the past.

But sometimes, when she looked out into the dark blue sea (the colour of his hair), or took a stroll around the palace gardens with the rich green grass (the colour of his eyes), his face would inadvertently enter her mind.

Sometimes when he woke up in the morning, he would turn and expect to see her beside him.

He knew that it was terribly unfaithful of him, that Meyrin loved him a lot, and that he really shouldn't be feeling so disappointed that when the girl sleeping next to him opened her eyes, they wouldn't be amber and full of fire and light.

He did try very hard to forget her. He tried to erase every part of his life that reminded him of her, but he soon found out that it was impossible. She was everywhere. She had permeated his life too deeply to be filtered out that way.

So instead, he simply tried to pretend that she didn't exist.

(But who am I fooling? He thought, as he smiled wryly to himself. Pretend she doesn't exist. I'm sure that would work, especially when I just can't take off the Haumea stone pendant from my neck.

When Meyrin asked, he said his mother had given it to him.)

Mostly, it was okay. As long as he kept himself occupied, thoughts of her didn't really affect him that much.

But sometimes, when he looked at the brilliant gold of the sunflowers in his garden (the colour of her hair), or the blazing bronze of the fire at the fireplace (the colour of her eyes), he would forget to pretend that she didn't exist.

They met one day, for the first time in years.

As their eyes met, they similarly widened in shock.

Their minds blank, they silently grappled with words, trying to make sense of what was happening. Their hearts raced, and for a while, they were sixteen again.

After a while, she broke the silence with a little cough. Her lips softened into an awkward smile.

"Hey." She murmured.

"Hey." He replied.

"How have you been?"

"Fine, thank you. How about you?"

"I've been good. Thanks for asking."

They lapsed into silence once more, both rooted in time as all that they had fought so hard to bury came rushing back.

The sharp ring of a cell phone made both of them jump. He smiled apologetically and took the call. After a whispered conversation, he hung up and smiled once again.

"I'm sorry, but I need to go now." His voice was tinged with a hint of regret.

"That's all right. So do I."

"…Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

They turned round and walked off in opposite directions, both not daring to look back, for the fear of breaking down and succumbing to the wild desire of running after the other person.

Both of them revisiting the past, and thinking –

If only…

But it was too late for that, and all they had left were broken pieces of their hearts, to be worn around their necks as a painful reminder of the past.

And at that moment, they seemed to be heavier than ever.