Tommy
The streets of Hessle felt unfamiliar, narrower and busier than I imagined. I kept my eyes scanning for her, my heart hammering so hard it felt like anyone who passed me could hear it.
Nothing prepared me for the moment I would actually see her.
And then I saw her.
She was behind the counter of the bakery, sleeves rolled up, apron dusted with flour. Her hair was pulled back, though a few loose strands framed her face, softening her features. My chest tightened, my breath catching. I saw the North Star necklace I'd given her a year ago glinting faintly at her neck. My stomach twisted in both pride and longing.
I lingered outside, pretending to browse the pastries, but my attention was glued to her. She hummed softly while arranging bread on the shelves, occasionally exchanging a smile or brief words with a customer. I wanted to call her name, to rush forward and sweep her into my arms, but I held back. I would wait.
When her shift ended, she wiped her hands on a towel and glanced toward the door. My heart leapt as she looked up and caught sight of me. A tentative, almost shy smile curved her lips, and I realised I hadn't breathed in a long moment.
"Tommy?" she said, her voice a mixture of surprise and disbelief.
"Hey," I said, letting the single word hang between us, my voice tight, almost breaking with emotion. I stepped closer, careful not to startle her. "Mind if I… walk with you?"
She nodded, the faintest laugh escaping her lips. "I've just finished."
We left the bakery together, stepping into the hum of the town. I put my hand out and she clasped it with a shy smile.
We wandered slowly through the streets, talking softly about how things were going — her job at the bakery, school and exams.
Every word, every glance, was electric. Our laughter mingled with the hum of the busy afternoon, a private bubble forming around us, invisible to everyone else.
Eventually, we reached the park. I pointed to a large oak tree that reminded me of our little clearing by the lake. She smiled and nodded, recognising the gesture immediately. I spread a blanket I had brought with me beneath it, careful to tuck the corners neatly, trying to recreate the magic of our woodland spot.
Emma sank onto the blanket, settling close to me, her knees brushing against mine. I pulled some snacks from my bag: biscuits, apples, and a small flask of juice. She reached for an apple, and our hands met — again, that fleeting touch, familiar and electric.
"I can't believe you're here," she murmured, looking up at me. "After all this time."
"Me neither," I said, voice low.
I brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, my fingers lingering at the curve of her jaw as if I could memorise the shape of her there and then. My voice came out low, almost rough.
"All I've thought about is seeing you again, since that last night in the woods, almost a year ago."
Her breath caught, soft and trembling, and I felt it as surely as if it had passed into me. I leaned closer, the distance between us too heavy to bear.
"I've missed you, Emma. More than words can say."
Her eyes shone, and when she whispered, "I've missed you too," it was like the world tilted back into place. I brushed my lips against hers, tentative, reverent, my thumb stroking along her cheek as if she were something fragile I'd waited all my life to hold again.
The world beyond the park slipped away, hushed into nothing. All that remained was Emma, and the fragile, shimmering bubble of time we had carved out for ourselves.
I pushed the food aside, not caring if it tumbled onto the blanket, and drew her into my arms. Our lips met again — no hesitation, no holding back — but it wasn't just passion. It was the relief of finding her after so long, the wonder of being able to hold her again. Her fingers slid into my hair, anchoring me, and I wrapped myself around her as though I could erase the long months apart with the strength of my embrace.
We lingered there for hours, as if time itself had slowed to grant us mercy. Kisses deepened and softened, hands intertwined, our laughter breaking through in quiet bursts when I leaned close to murmur the silliest jokes I knew — just to hear her laugh the way I remembered. I traced the delicate chain at her throat, following it to the small North Star pendant that rested against her chest, and let my thumb linger there, reminded of what it had always meant — that she was the constant I would always find my way back to.
She caught my hand as I traced the North Star pendant, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've never taken it off."
I lifted my gaze to hers, and in her eyes I saw everything I had ever wanted, everything I had ever dreamed of finding.
As the sun lowered, the light gilded her hair, painting her auburn locks gold. I pressed my forehead gently to hers, my voice no louder than a breath.
"I've missed this," I whispered, closing my eyes, "missed you — more than I'll ever know how to say."
Her fingers curled tighter around my shoulders and for the first time in a year, I felt whole.
I reached into my pocket, my fingers brushing the small velvet box I had carried since I left home. My heart hammered. I wasn't sure if the gesture would be enough, or if words could ever capture how I felt. But I needed her to know, in a way that went beyond letters, beyond stolen afternoons, beyond the silent promises we'd made in our hearts.
I turned to her, and she noticed the movement instantly. Her eyes, wide and searching, met mine. "Tommy…?" she asked softly, the word itself carrying hope and curiosity.
I swallowed. "I… I have something for you," I said, my voice low, almost breaking. My fingers fumbled with the box, and I opened it carefully. The small silver ring inside caught the last rays of sunlight, glinting like a star. I lifted it gently between my fingers and held it out to her.
Emma's hands trembled slightly as she reached for it. Her eyes widened when she saw the engraving inside: the date we first met and the words "Love forever."
"I… Tommy," she whispered, voice thick. "You… —"
"I wanted you to have something permanent" I said, my own throat tight.
"Something that is a promise … that no matter what, I'm yours. Forever, wherever life takes us. Emma… I love you."
The words hung between us, soft, but heavy with meaning. It was the first time I had ever said them aloud, I felt like the air itself had changed, like everything in the world had been condensed into that single confession.
Her hands found mine, and Icould feel her pulse, quick and warm. "I… I love you too," she breathed, voice trembling. "I've never… I don't even know how to say — how much you mean to me."
Her eyes glistened, brimming with tears, and I brushed a strand of hair from her face. "I know," I said softly. "That one word — love — it's not enough, is it? It can't hold all this, all the months, all the waiting, all the things we've kept inside. But it's what beats in my heart for you."
Emma slid the ring onto her finger, eyes fixed on mine, and I could see the swirl of emotions — joy, longing, fear, hope, and the ache of impending separation. "It's perfect," she whispered, "I'll never take it off."
"Every day I've thought about you, every letter I've written… I couldn't wait for this moment. To see you again and tell you I love you."
We stayed like that for a long while, hands entwined, lips hovering in delicate kisses, just holding onto each other. The ring caught the sunlight now and then, glinting like a tiny North Star, a symbol of all we had been through and all we hoped for.
Finally, we pulled back slightly, breathing in the same warm air, the park around us falling into quiet shadows as evening settled. I brushed a hand along her cheek.
"No matter what happens, Emma… I will never stop loving you."
Her hands tightened on mine, her breath coming in shallow, happy gasps. I held her close, feeling the weight of the promise between us, knowing that this small ring, this single word, could never fully capture the depth of everything we felt — but it was a start. And for now, it was enough.