Boring Love
So, let me tell you about Lily and her thing with this bloke called Oliver. They met one evening at a house party with mutual friends in Cambridge. Oliver was quite the charmerone minute he called himself a photographer, the next a painter. He could play the guitar fairly decently too. Not some award-winning musician, but when he sang you just felt something, you know? He had this raw, emotional thing going on in his voice that made it almost impossible not to get a bit swept up.
Honestly, Lily was pretty used to getting male attention. She knew her worth, never let anyone mess her about, and she always put herself first in relationships. But things with Oliver unfolded in a way shed never experienced.
That night, as Oliver was strumming away and singing, Lily barely took her eyes off him. After his little gig, Oliver asked for her number, then gallantly walked her home. For the first time, Lily found herself genuinely excited, just hoping hed call. Shed never been one to wait by the phone. Usually, men were the ones eager for her, not the other way around.
But Oliver didnt call that evening. Nor the next day. Lilys mind ran in circlesshould she text first? Should she just forget about him? She told herself she was being silly but simply couldnt help it.
Oh, love, youre smitten, her friend Sophie laughed, when Lily confessed how she was driving herself mad.
Thats never happened to me, Soph. I was literally waking up at night just to check my phone! Lily shook her head in disbelief.
It happens to all of us at some point, mate. Dont worry, itll pass. Give it a few dates, and hell be the one chasing you for dinner, Sophie grinned.
How am I meant to even see him if he doesnt call? Lily groaned.
Honestly, just keep busygo to the salon, see some other boys, do your thing. Sophie suggested, in that practical way of hers. Hell call, trust me.
Lily even almost caved and asked around for his numbera first for her, because normally if anyone was going to make the first move, it wasnt her. Sophie was very much not on board with that plan.
No, Lily, dont do it. Please, dont you dare phone him first, Sophie admonished her.
But somehow Lily managed to distract herself at work and even ticked off an entire to-do list. She watched that new Netflix series in the evening and did a spin class the next day. Then, just as she was starting to convince herself she was over it, Oliver called.
Alright Caramel, whats your plan tonight? he chirped. His nickname for her, Caramel, came from the little argument theyd had over her hair colourhed called it ginger but she insisted it was caramel, and so the name stuck.
They decided to walk in the city park and grab a kebab. Honestly, if another guy had asked Lily for kebab on a first date, shed have said thanks but no thanks. But to her horror, she said yes with way too much enthusiasm.
Brilliant, see you around seven in Parkers Piece, Oliver said, hanging up after that.
Lilys heart was hammering. She tried not to dwell on the slightly off bitslike him not offering to pick her up or calling a cab for her. No one had ever asked her out and made her walk. Still, it was a lovely evening. No need to overthink.
The date itself was surprisingly good. Sure, Oliver was five minutes late but made such a joke-filled, dramatic apology that Lily couldn’t help but laugh. He really was that charming and funny. The conversation flowed, and Lily started to think that even a plain doner kebab could taste wonderful with him.
As they wandered, they stumbled across an artist painting portraits. The man suggested Oliver commission one for Lily, but Oliver, with that glint in his eye, proposed he paint her himself. The artist, bemused, handed over the brush.
Lily sat for him for over an hour, content just to be his muse. When he handed over the painting, whispering it didnt do her justice, her heart just melted. She felt like shed been swept into one of those romance novels, all dreamy and magical.
But, as she lay in bed that night, thoughts swirled. Hell call tomorrow, she smiled to herself.
The next day, nothing. Not that day, nor the next. Lily stubbornly refused to call himbut on day five, she caved.
Alright, Caramel! Oliver answered, cheerful as ever, as if he hadnt vanished for days.
Anything you want to say for yourself? Lilys irritation finally burst out.
Let me think Oh, yeah! Come round tonight, Oliver laughed.
His breezy manner left her speechless. She always had a clever retort ready for men behaving badly, but with Oliver she lost her nerve.
Ill come, she heard herself say, and immediately started getting ready, even though she kind of hated how eager she felt. She put on her best lingerie, splashed on perfume, hoping hed notice she was a cut above the rest.
But it all went off script when Oliver greeted her at the door with a bag of frozen dumplings. Caramel, be a mate and make these, will you? Im starving. Ill pop out for some mayo.
Lily just stood there, dumplings in hand, unable to say a word before he disappeared.
Grumbling, she got on with cooking, and even tidied his less-than-sparkling kitchen, noting bitterly that Oliver couldve cleaned up a bit before inviting her over. But she stayed, and when he got back, the evening rolled on. He made a point to tease her gently, said he thought she was properly domestic, and pouted at her for not cleaning more. He wolfed down the dumplings, hardly noticing her made-up, perfumed self.
They ended up spending the night together, but it was nothing like the scenes shed played out in her head. Still, she stayedwatched a film, looked at old photos, chatted late into the evening.
After that, they sort of started dating. Sometimes Oliver was warm and loving, writing songs for her on his battered old guitar, taking her out for tea, bringing her flowers. But those moments were rare bursts; mostly she waited for his calls, and often she would pay for dinner or for his cab. Occasionally, hed cancel plans to see a mate or go to a gallery, and he was always broke.
Why do I put up with this? Lily would wonder. The answer was always the sameshe adored him. His eyes, his laugh, the way hed look at herall of it.
Hed call her at random hours, sometimes waking her before big meetings, and shed run to see him, heart pounding, forgetting everything else. One night, after theyd spent the evening together, he asked her to move in.
Lilys heart nearly leapt out of her chest. She didnt dwell on any doubts or his financial instability. She thought, Now well really be togetherproperly happy.
But living together didnt fix much. In fact, Lily found herself up to her neck with chores. Oliver even started nagging about dirty dishes and lack of dinner when it was her wages keeping them afloat.
I dont need all these posh thingsfruit, fish, cheese Oliver would moan, but somehow would happily scoff the nice food Lily bought for herself.
She began to feel her patience wearing thin. Sometimes, sensing shed reached her limit, Oliver would suddenly shower her with gifts and attention againflowers, little surprises, giving up meetings just for herand for a while, shed feel like the luckiest woman in England.
Then one night, he promised a surprise for her but didnt come home until morning, tipsy and full of affection. When she didnt greet him with open arms, he acted affronted, as if he was the wronged party.
After that, Lily seriously thought about ending thingsshe couldnt bear the rollercoaster but also couldnt quite walk away.
One morning, she came down with a fever, rang her boss to get a couple of days sick. Oliver saw her huddled under two duvets, shivering, and frowned.
I thought you were coming away with meto the slopes this weekend? he said, grabbing his bag.
I really need some paracetamol, can you go to Boots, please? she asked, barely able to get the words out.
Oh, come on, Caramel, youll be fine! The lads are waitingDont get all soft on me now! He kissed her on the forehead, muttered something about medicine being a con, and left whistling merrily.
Lying in bed, feeling wretched, Lily saw their relationship for what it was. When Oliver got home three days later, cheerful as ever, rambling about his trip and how much hed missed her, she was already packed.
Ollie, Im leaving now. Could you please help me with my suitcase, or just let me past? she said quietly.
What, youre calling a cab? Dont you listen to me? I said I missed you! he replied, plaintive.
But she just repeated herself, and as much as he tried to block her way, saying gentle things, Lily forced herself not to crumble. She left, calling a Black Cab, and cried all the way to her mums in Richmond.
He tried ringing, but she ignored him, tears streaming down her face. How, she wondered, had she let someone reduce her to this?
***
Her mum, Margaret, took her in at once. Shed never liked Oliverhated seeing her smart, beautiful daughter twisted round some unreliable charmers little finger. Margaret didn’t meddle when Lily was living her own life, but now she let her opinions loose.
The mans an absolute disgrace, darling, she tutted, There are loads of decent lads about and yet you fell for that scoundrel! Why him?
Where am I supposed to find all these decent fellas, Mum? Lily sobbed. I cant stop thinking about Olivereven when I close my eyes, its still him.
Maybe keep your eyes open then, her mum quipped, Look round you. If you werent so hung up on Oliver, you might actually notice someone decent. What about Tom next door? Lovely boy.
Lily rolled her eyesher mum had been banging on about Tom since uni. But he really was a good, reliable lad, driving her to work and picking her up at the end of the day.
Lily didnt fancy Tomhe was quiet, a bit awkward. Nothing like Oliver, with his words and guitar. If Tom ever tried romance, it just missed the mark. No dramatic texts, no poetic confessionsjust simple offers to go out, help with something, giving lifts whenever she needed.
She still turned heads when she went out. Plenty of men asked her out, but after Oliver it was like a switch had been flicked off inside her. She didnt want romance or drama. Tom just kept quietly being there. No pressurejust attention, little goodnesses, keeping her company through some bleak evenings.
One day, Lily mentioned to her mum that Tom had proposed.
And youre still unsure? Margaret scoffed. Are you seriously hoping Olivers going to turn up and sweep you off your feet?
No Mum, Im really not. I just I dont want to get married if Im not in love, Lily admitted.
You think love is all fireworks and passion? Newsflash, that doesnt stick round, darling. Real love is something youll learn once youre married.
Lily pondered that. Tom had waited for her for over a year and never demanded anything. She didnt exactly long for anyone else. So, in the end, she agreed to marry him.
***
Life with Tom wasnt bad at all. He did everything to make her happyeven working two jobs to keep them comfortable. Lily felt cared for, content, safe, though she wondered if shed ever love him the way shed loved Oliver. Could you be happy without mad love?
One time, Tom announced theyd been invited to a big work do outside Londona whole weekend with games, a DJ, a pool, proper photographer, the lot. He was dead excited, and even Lily was curious to meet his colleagues.
But, as luck would have it, she came down with some awful bug the night before. Temperature through the roof, doctor out the next morning prescribing bed rest and loads of fluids. Fancy red dress had to waitTom would have to go to the party alone.
Tom, youre gonna be late, better call an Uber. And wear the blue shirtI ironed it last night, Lily told him, watching him faff about.
What, you think Im leaving you here? Tom looked at her, totally baffled, thermometer in hand.
Youve been dying to go, you should go, she said, feeling oddly embarrassed.
He just laughed, barely believing she was serious. Of course not. You think Im going without you?
But its loads of fun, love. I can stick it out on my ownyou go enjoy yourself for both of us.
He rolled his eyes like shed said something mad, poured her a glass of water, and held it out.
Here, drink upyou need to stay hydrated, he whispered gently.
Lily had this strange flutter in her chest. Tom didnt write love songs, didnt sweep her off her feet. There was none of that burning, dizzying passion. Still, something warm and calm settled inside her.
Tom barely left her side. He gave her medicine to the minute, wrapped her in cold flannels, helped her to the loo, fed her himself. He cooked, guessed what she needed, tiptoed around the house, and read to her when she was bored.
And despite feeling dreadful, Lily was content. She knew the fever would pass, but the gentle warmth Tom brought her wouldnt.
This is love, she thought quietly, watching her slightly clumsy but thoroughly devoted husband stirring sugar into her lemon tea.
Feeling better? Tom asked, seeing her small smile.
So much better, Lily whispered, grinning through the aches and headache.
He felt her head, frowning at the thermometers stubborn reading. He didn’t understand how she could be happy feeling so rough.
I love you, Tom, Lily said softly, smiling through every thudding pain.
He froze for a momentcaught off guard, maybe even chuffed to bits. He turned away, perhaps so she wouldnt see the tears welling in his eyes.
Dont you dare cry, mate, he muttered to himself.
But she didnt cry. Her words seemed to give him strength, and he took her hand, kissed it, and leaned in to whisper, I love you too.
And just like that, sometimes boring love is the love that lasts.
