She looked up at him, the tall young man she'd known since they were youngsters, the man she'd given her first kiss to, the man she'd let touch her like no other, the man she loved, the man she hoped to marry. She remembered fondly the long countryside walks, talking for hours, sometimes with his stupid dog, but mostly just the two of them, braving the elements or standing quietly watching the sun set dreamily over the Broads.
He held her in his arms, his Molly, his first love, and said good-bye. He promised to write and kissed her tenderly before boarding the train to Edinburgh.
And he did, a few times, before university and the wide world beyond captivated him and he forgot the simple things, and broke his first promise.
