Pictures of Lily

wrong.
    ‘What’s up?’ Nicola mouths with concern. I glance at Cara to their right, and find my feet walking in their direction instead of towards the lifts. They both get up and hurry with me to the toilets behind the reception desk, Mel telling Cara to hold the fort because they’ll be back in a minute. As soon as the door closes, I’m in floods of tears again.
    ‘What’s wrong?’ Nicola asks out loud this time.
    Mel puts her hand on my arm. ‘Is it Richard?’ she asks.
    ‘No, no,’ I manage to say, before qualifying that. ‘Well, sort of.’ I cover my face with my hands and sob so hard my body shakes. Nicola puts her arms around me and I vaguely hope I’m not snot-ting on her designer shirt as I cry into her shoulder. Mel rubs my arm comfortingly and eventually my sobs subside.
    ‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Mel asks.
    I waver. Yes, in all honesty, I do. I really, really do.
    ‘Is it someone else?’ Nicola prompts.
    I meet her eyes and she knows instantly that it is.
    ‘Ben?’ she checks.
    I nod.
    She and Mel glance at each other.
    ‘Nothing’s happened,’ I say wearily. ‘But I’m stuck. I don’t know what to do.’
    ‘How did you meet him?’ Mel asks. ‘Ben?’
    ‘It’s like I said. I knew him ten years ago when I worked at the conservation park. He was a keeper there.’
    Her brow furrows. ‘How old were you?’
    ‘Sixteen. But it’s not like that!’ I insist. ‘Nothing ever happened. But I fell head over heels in love with him and I knew he felt something for me too. But he would have never done anything about it.’
    ‘How old was he?’
    ‘Twenty-eight. He was engaged to someone in England, but there was this connection between us. I don’t know how to describe it. He believed in me; I understood him. It wasn’t tawdry,’ I try to convince them. ‘I’ve never loved anyone like I loved him.’
    ‘Not even Richard?’ Nicola asks hopefully.
    ‘Not even Richard,’ I tell her sadly.
    ‘What happened?’ Mel pries. ‘Did Ben marry that other woman?’
    ‘Yes. But not before I told him how I felt about him.’
    ‘And did he tell you how he felt about you?’ Nicola asks.
    ‘I overheard him speaking to one of his friends about it. So I confronted him. It didn’t make a difference. I was only sixteen. I thought he might wait for me, but he told me today that he would never have expected me to put my life on hold for him. His friend convinced him he was only scared of the commitment of marriage, and he shouldn’t let his fiancée down. So he left. And I’ve never been able to forget him.’
    ‘The one that got away . . .’ Mel mutters.
    ‘When Richard proposed,’ I continue, ‘I didn’t want to say yes because I thought that would mean letting go of Ben forever, and then when I bumped into him a couple of weeks ago . . .’
    ‘Is he still married?’ Mel asks.
    ‘Divorced. Five years ago. It was never right, he said.’
    Nicola nods. ‘What happened today?’
    ‘I told Ben I was engaged.’
    Mel’s mouth drops open. ‘You hadn’t told him?’
    ‘No. I know it’s wrong, but I needed to spend some time with him again. I didn’t want to risk losing everything with Richard if there was a chance I wouldn’t feel the same way about Ben.’
    ‘I get that,’ Nicola agrees.
    ‘But spending time with him has made everything worse,’ I add miserably. ‘I love them both.’
    No one says anything. What can they say?
    I don’t know how I manage to get through the rest of the day at work, but my grief is replaced by melancholy on the way home. I sit there and stare into space as commuters and tourists hustle and bustle around me. It’s time to come clean to Richard. I still don’t know what I’m going to do, but I owe him the truth. And maybe Ben was right. Maybe I’m hoping someone else will make this decision for me. I’m aware that makes me weak as well as deceitful. I don’t feel like I deserve either of them.
    Richard knows something is wrong from the moment I walk into the living room.
    ‘What is it?’ he asks, starting to get to his feet.
    ‘Stay there,’ I say, and he hesitates before sinking back into the sofa with concern written all over his face. ‘I have to tell you something.’
    I feel sick to my core as I sit down on the armchair and face him. He’s confused, not sure yet what’s to come.
    ‘What is it?’ he asks.
    I don’t know where to start. I haven’t rehearsed this. ‘When I first came to Australia . . .’ My