Happy Ending:

Everybody wants to live happily ever after. They want the stereotypical Disney happy ending. The prince marries the princess and the bad guy dies. That's what everybody wants in life. Except Disney make it look so fucking simple when in reality, getting a happy ending is the hardest thing imaginable.

I was 16 when we met. My best friend at the time introduced us and I was attracted to him straight away. It wasn't love at first sight but I wanted to be with him. He asked me out pretty much straight away and the rest as they say is history.

I was 17 when we first slept together. I thought it was the right thing to do. We'd been dating for a year and I hadn't felt ready until then. He understood that and never once did he push me. I will always respect and love him for that. He gave me space when I asked and he cuddled me when I told him I needed him.

I was 20 when he proposed. He planned a surprise party for my birthday, not knowing that I hated them. The idea of all your family and friends hiding in a small space behind different parts of the furniture in the dark didn't sit right with me. He told me a few months later that he chose to propose at my surprise party because he wanted to see everybody's reaction, not just mine. His proposal had been sweet; I guess it was how I'd imagined he would do it. I'd always dreamt of being proposed to in New York in Times Square but Ryan didn't know that. I hadn't told him. I suppose that should have set off warning bells, should have made me think about our relationship. I hadn't told the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with one of my dreams.

I was 22 when I thought I had managed to get my happy ending. I'd finally married the man I loved and we were happy. We were even contemplating starting a family, some may think that we were a bit quick off the bat but after being together since we were 16, having a family seemed like the next natural step. I knew that we'd be great parents, even though we both had our doubts, I knew they were just superficial. I had confidence that Ryan would be a great father and he constantly told me that I would make the world's greatest mother. He even joked that our child would buy me the mug with that phrase on it. I appreciated his confidence in me.

I was 23 when I miscarried. We'd been fast asleep in bed when I suddenly felt it. At first I thought I had wet myself, I was only 15 weeks so I knew it couldn't be my waters breaking but as I switched the light on, my eyes fell on the pool of blood which covered my bed sheets. I couldn't speak, I couldn't do anything. I was frozen in fear as my hands grasped my stomach in pain. You hear about people having miscarriages all the time but you never expect it to happen to you. When you find out you're pregnant, you never expect that you won't carry it for the full nine months. Ryan sensed my fidgeting and woke up before telling me what to do. It was because of him that I ended up in the hospital, if I had been alone, I wasn't sure I'd have managed to move.

After my miscarriage our marriage changed in every aspect. I didn't want him to touch me anymore; I couldn't get over the loss of our unborn baby. I may never have met them but I grieved for them. Ryan would constantly come home from work to find me crying either on the couch or on our bed. At first he would cuddle me but as time went by, I pushed him further and further away and eventually I was left to cry alone. He constantly tried to talk to me, tried to get me to open up but I just pushed him away. I was horrible to him and I should have let him help me. The arguments began when he suggested we should try for another baby. I shouted at him, told him that having another baby wouldn't replace the one we had lost. He yelled back that that wasn't what he meant. After that we argued nearly every day.

I was 24 when I met her. I'd been drowning my sorrows, after yet another argument with Ryan, when she sat down beside me. I told her my name was Sian and she introduced herself as Sophie Webster and from that moment on, I knew I was in trouble. I was memorised by her, everything about her. The way she moved, the way she talked, the way she said my name.

As soon as she kissed me, I knew what would happen. I knew that that one kiss would lead to sex. I knew that I would cheat on Ryan but it didn't stop me. I kissed Sophie back and when she told me she had a flat nearby, I let her lead me. I let her undress me and kiss me all over, erasing every kiss from Ryan. I let her push me back onto the bed and when she climbed on top of me and sucked on my pulse point, I didn't tell her to stop, I didn't tell her not to leave a mark. I let her brand me in a way that nobody else had ever managed to do. I wasn't thinking about what would happen if Ryan saw it, at that moment Ryan was the last thing on my mind.

When it was my turn to please her, I panicked. I'd never done this before. I had let this girl take something precious from me, almost like my second virginity but I didn't mind. I found myself wishing that she had taken my virginity properly. I found myself feeling more comfortable with her than I ever did with Ryan. She could see my panic and she simply kissed me telling me I didn't need to do anything I didn't want to. She was so genuine with her concern it made my heart swell. I knew right there that I had feelings for her although I ignored the true extent of them. I pushed her back onto the bed and claimed her like she had claimed me.

That night blew my mind, she made me feel things I'd never felt before. Things felt entirely different with her than it ever did with Ryan. She was gentle yet rough at the same time, she pushed me into doing things I hadn't been able to do since the miscarriage yet she wasn't forceful in any way. Afterwards, we lay in bed, spent. She played with my fingers and when her finger found my wedding ring, she didn't say anything but I could see the hurt that resided behind her eyes. She thought that she was a quick fuck and nothing more, I could tell. I kissed her softly and told her that she had made me feel more alive than I had ever felt. I thanked her for that and then went back to my husband.

I was 26 when Ryan and I finally had a child. A little boy called Patrick. As soon as he was born I could tell that he would grow up to be the spit of Ryan. He'd be a little heartbreaker when he was older. That was what everybody said when they saw him. Our family and friends told me that he looked like Ryan and strangers would tell me that he was adorable, cute or precious. The adjectives varied from person to person.

After my night with Sophie, I had come back to sort things out with Ryan. I wasn't a cheater, that's not who I am. I had made vows and damn it I was going to stick to them. I wasn't that girl who could have an affair, I couldn't do that. Not to Ryan. We went to counselling for several months and gradually things began to get back to normal.

Except things would never be normal again.

They couldn't be, not after I had spent the night with Sophie Webster. She had changed my entire perspective of life for the better. One night had been enough to make me fall for her but it was also enough to ruin my marriage if Ryan ever found out.

I was right when I said Ryan would be a brilliant dad. He's amazing with Patrick. Patrick's 3 now and Ryan is a hands-on dad. One of our problems had been that he went out to work whilst I stayed at home and had nothing to do but think and my thoughts always landed on our unborn child. He promised things would change and they did. He quit work and decided to become a hands-on dad which allowed me to go to work. I started work in a local catering company, just as kitchen staff but over the years, I worked my way up the career ladder and now work as head chef.

Ryan tells me every day how proud he is of me and how much he loves me.

I tell him I love him too because I do. I just don't think I'm in love with him, not anymore. Honestly I don't think I have been since my encounter with Sophie. It's been five years since I saw her but I can still remember what she looked like.

What she smelt like.

It's been five years but I can still remember Sophie Webster. Every day she plagues my thoughts and I can't help but wonder what if?

What if things had been different?

What if I had been brave and stayed instead of running back to Ryan?

Would we still be together? Would we have a child of our own?

But the biggest what if of all, what if I see her again?

I read a quote once that said 'it's easy to fall in love but hard to find someone who will catch you.' I suppose that's true. I fell for Sophie straight away but I ran away without even giving her the chance to catch me. I'd already been caught years earlier by Ryan. She had the greatest impact on my life and I have no idea what impact I had on hers.

Maybe I haven't got my happy ending but maybe they don't exist. Maybe happy endings only exist in fairy tales. I'm married to a man who adores me and together we have a beautiful son who I love with all my heart, it may not be perfect but does it need to be? Maybe this is my happy ending, maybe this marriage is as good as it gets. If Ryan and I divorced, I know I would be upset.

In Disney movies, happy endings were essential, no matter how many parts of the film were upsetting, the happy ending was guaranteed. The audience demand it. They demand a happy ending because it makes them feel warm and fuzzy inside. Maybe the reason we demand happy endings in films is because we know that in life, they're a rarity.

I'm 29 now and I don't know what my future has in store for me but perhaps I will get my happy ending. I can't help but think of Sophie when I think of my happy ending. Love at first sight is a cliché but I experienced it with her.

I can be happy in the life I live. It may not be the happy ending I dreamed of but I can live with that. I tell myself this most nights when I feel Ryan press his front against my back, his arm pulling me closer.

Orson Welles said that if you want a happy ending, it depends on where you stop your story. Maybe I stopped my story too short so I'm missing the final chapters. Maybe my story ends 'and they lived happily ever after.' However I can't believe that theory. I need this to be where my story ends. I tell myself that this is my happy ending because if I don't, if I tell myself that my happy ending exists with Sophie Webster then I'll go and find her.

And that scares the shit out of me.