If they lived, though
If they lived
She was like a ray of sun––when she came to pick up little Harry, all of the fathers looked around to stare at her. She was so young; everything about her was young and bright, the way she wore denim jackets, t-shirts and chuck taylors, the way her hair floated around her arms like a fiery halo, the way her eyes were green and sprightly. She was loving, she kissed her little boy and told him stories as they walked home, holding hands, a bag with schoolbooks suspended on her arm.
He was so young. Tall and handsome, messing his hair in a careless way, he seemed so unresponsible as he laughed and smirked and chatted with his son’s friends. All of the mothers whispered enviously, he must’ve left her with a child. But then, they’d show up together, and the way they bickered and the way he kissed her freckled nose and she rolled her eyes, it was so vivid, so obvious that they were in love.
Lily blinked. She let out a shaky breath.
It was too late.