Chapter Text
Once I had a secret love,
That lived within the heart of me
All too soon my secret love,
Became impatient to be free
So I told a friendly star,
The way that dreamers often do...
Paul sat alone in his London flat, the crumpled newspaper spread out on his desk like an accusation.
The headline was small, tucked among the society pages, but it had struck him like a fist to the chest.The society pages stared back at him:
MISS PATTIE BOYD TO WED MR. ROBERT ALFRED!
Miss Pattie Boyd, the celebrated model, is engaged to be married to Mr. Robert Alfred, heir to extensive estates in Edinburgh...
He couldn't read beyond that, cause each upcoming word started to break his heart into pieces and fragments. There was a grainy photo of her, smiling, radiant, blonde hair cascading just as he remembered. Pattie looked devastatingly beautiful in a pale coat, smiling beside a tall, dark-haired man with the easy confidence of old money. Robert Alfred. Estates in Edinburgh. A name that sounded like it belonged in country houses and hunt balls, not smoky clubs and screaming girls.
Paul’s fingers trembled as he traced the edge of the page. All the years rushed back in a flood he couldn’t hold, the first time he’d seen her, laughing in the wings at Twickenham Film Studios, sunlight catching in her hair like spun gold, the way she’d looked at him across crowded rooms, her blue eyes curious and kind, her voice low and warm, asking about songs he was writing as though they truly mattered. He had loved her from the beginning. Quietly. Hopelessly. Never saying a word because what could he offer her, really? A life of tours and chaos, headlines and heartbreak. She was light itself. Graceful, gentle, seeing beauty where he only saw noise. He had convinced himself long ago that she could never think of him that way. That she saw only the friend, that too on rare occasions where he was a safe harbor to her when the world around got too loud.
He had not meant to be awake at this hour, to be drinking unremarked scotch straight from a tumbler he could not remember filling. But the paper had found him, as everything found him eventually, in between tours, between rehearsals, in the small quiet that a life lived in the public eye left for itself.
His eyes burned. He reached for the glass of whisky he’d poured an hour ago. The liquid shook in his hand as he brought it to his lips.
All those years, he'd hidden it deep. Now it was too late. Now she was slipping away forever.
He couldn’t bear it. Before the fear could stop him, he crossed the room, picked up the telephone, and dialed the number he still knew by heart but rarely used. His hand trembled when he dialled. He knew every wrongness in the act...calling at this hour, interrupting whatever life she was building but he could not make himself stop.
Ring...ring...
“Hello?”
Hearing her voice made something inside him spill. She sounded clear, small, alive on the other end of a channel he had no right to occupy. Paul closed his eyes. Just hearing her say that one word made the room feel less cold.
“You aren’t asleep, are you?” He said involuntarily before realising he hadn't introduced himself to the one he called at this old hour.
“Hi,” he managed again, voice rough. A pause, then gently, “I’m…” He swallowed. “I’m sorry, I'm—”
“—Paul,” she finished for him, a faint smile in her tone, as she had recognised his voice. “Yes. Yes, I know.”
He felt foolish. He tried to thread an apology through his throat and it came out thin.
"This is unfortunate, Pa-Pattie," he choked out. "I called in a hurry at such a horrible time. I’m sorry, I woke you...”
"It's alright," she murmured. "I hadn't slept yet."
"You must be disappointed, then..."
"Excuse me?"
"You must have been waiting for his call at this time," he said, voice raw with sorrow, "instead it was just me."
“Just you?” she echoed, something fragile in her voice.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “Me. Just me.”
There was the faint clink sound of the glass as he finally took a sip of the whisky. He hadn’t meant for her to hear it.
“Are you drinking right now?” she asked softly, realizing.
"No. No, I don't, I—" He broke, tears streaming. He let the sentence break. "You... this is all... it hurts so much...I could never be—"
"You could never be what, Paul?"
"Him," he said almost whispered so that she couldn't hear, staring at the paper
"He has quite a fortune, big farms in Edinburgh... hopefully a big heart as well." He was reading the facts of the column because they were safer than the truth that pinched his mouth.
"He has," she said carefully, helding no emotion. "He has a good heart."
"Oh, you are in love-love." His voice cracked like the glass that fell from his hand. "Of course you are. That's why most people rush for wedding... cause they're in L-O-V-E." He tried to laugh, but it turned into a heartbroken gasp, the pain ripping through him.
"Most people do for love, that I'll agree," she corrected gently. "And some don't as well."
"Oh, so you're in love and he isn't?" He halted. The joke he tried to tell came out ragged and sharp. "That was a bad joke, Pattie. Imagine not falling in love with the—the prettiest woman every man dreams of. Imagine you professing your love, and him not loving you back. That's impossible. What a fool he is if that were true."
"I've known one such fool myself," she confessed, so quietly he almost missed it. "He never loved me, even though I loved him more than words could express...more than my heart could bear."
He flinched. He felt as if she had nicked him, a small, honest cut.
“He must not be real. How could he?” He wanted to accuse the man who had the temerity to be less than deserving of her.
“I suppose he had someone else in his mind,” she continued, voice trembling just slightly. “And never saw me that way.”
“I’d like to meet that fool one day,” Paul said, barely breathing.
"Why?" she genuinely wondered over the strange confession.
"He..." Paul's voice shattered. "He must be great enough to be loved by you."
A long silence. Then, so soft it broke him: “You know him very well.”
Paul coughed, a choked sound that might have been a sob. He pressed his palm to his eyes.
“It’s been months since I’ve seen you,” she went on. “And now we’re talking like this. You sound… heartbroken, Paul..over something...or someone.”
“For her,” he admitted, voice raw.
“Her?”
“Yeah. She’s everything I can’t have.”
“Could I've… known her?”
"You are." His voice broke. "She... well, she has blonde hair like you. Shining and long."
A soft, pained sound from her end came saying, "Hmm"
"And she has blue eyes..."
"She must be really lucky, Paul, to capture your heart," she said slowly.
"She is lucky... Yes. She is... lucky to forget me forever, to be with someone she loves," tears slipping free now.
"She's graceful, kind, sees the world in a way that makes you want to be better. I've watched her from afar for years, too scared to say anything because... because I thought I wasn't good enough. A musician, always on tour, always in the papers for the wrong reasons. She deserves stability, someone proper. Anyone but me."
"Paul..."
"And now she's marrying someone else. Someone with estates and fortunes and... everything I don't have."
"Oh, Paul..." Her voice trembled.
"I wish I could ease your pain. If I know her, I wish I could convey your regard. Tell me, when have you last heard from her?"
"I'm hearing her now." He whispered, dread rising. "Please tell her on behalf of me..."
The phone slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor. He couldn't bear the rejection he was sure would come, the gentle let down. On the other end, Pattie froze, receiver pressed to her ear. Had she heard right? The man she'd loved in silence for years, finally saying...
The line went dead but the words echoed. She hadn't been sleeping because of that newspaper too—because the announcement wasn't true. A misunderstanding, a planted rumor by a journalist twisting a friendly dinner into something more. Robert was kind, yes, but just a friend. She'd never said yes to anything. Her heart thundered so loudly she could barely breathe.
She had to find him.
At last my hearts an open door,
And my secret love's
No secret anymore.