The yellowed piece of paper was framed up on the wall. I looked up at it and smiled. I sat on the old rocking chair as I watched my grandchildren play. “Grandma!” one of them grinned at me. I smiled. She had the same grin as someone I knew long ago. Someone I loved.

“Catherine!” A girl, a younger version of me, turned around, “What is it, Arthur?” An Englishman, dressed in a British Army uniform, ran up to me. “I heard about it. Is it true?” I nodded, “He's a native Chinese businessman. Probably some old geezer.” Arthur smacked his head with his palm, “If only I could spirit you away. But knowing your parents, I would be charged in court for abduction.” I smiled, but only a little. My parents were strict traditional Chinese. They had decided who I was to marry.

I looked at Arthur's face. It was lined with worry. “What's wrong, Arthur? You know you'll still be my boyfriend, even when I am married.” He shook his head, “I know... It's just... I wish you did not have the kind of parents you have. They make the both of us suffer.” “As do the rest of the traditional Chinese who have seen us together,” I thought to myself. Whenever Arthur went out with me, I would be stared at and called a China prostitute, or some mean names. I was even shot filthy looks in the streets when I was with him. An English and a Chinese together just did not look right for most people. After all, Britain was occupying our country at that time.

When my parents had found out about Arthur, they had caned me. I had a scar on my right arm because of it. And not to mention, emotional scars. I could not ever disobey my parents. After all, I was just a girl. Girls were supposed to behave and be taken advantage of, right? Arthur was the only one who treated me like an equal. That was what I loved about him. His personality, charm and his warm smile. I loved him. I wanted to be with him. But unless my parents changed, I could never be with him. Never. Arthur and I had been talking about my arranged marriage for months already. When he first found out, he looked as if he was going to cry. The poor man. He wanted to get me out of Singapore, out of the reach of my parents, but I could not. I just could not betray my own flesh and blood.

Arthur had many comrades who had fallen across the causeway. He had been depressed till the day before, when he finally decided to live for the present and future. Singapore would be invaded by the Japanese. It would only be a matter of time. The British had blown up the bridge that linked Singapore to Malaysia. But the Japanese would find a way to get across. I just knew it. And when they did, the man standing in front of me would fight. Fight for his life and for Singapore. I had to fight back tears everytime I thought about it. There was a chance he would never come back.

Suddenly, a bell was sounded. The Japanese had came into Singapore. Panic was everywhere. People hurried into their homes, children were screaming and the soldiers were rushing to their stations. Arthur looked at me, “I guess this is good bye.” Good bye? “Arthur...” “I... I guess I will go. I hope to see you again soon.” Hope to see me? Did he suspect he would never come back? “Arthur?” He turned and walked away. “Good bye, Catherine.” It wrenched me to see him walk away. To his probable doom. No... No! “Arthur!” He walked faster. “Arthur!” I cried, “I love you!” He stopped in his tracks. He looked as if he was going to say something. Then, he just walked. He quickened his steps and walked away into the distance. The tears came flowing down my cheeks. “Why did he not say anything to me? Why?” I questioned myself. My heart felt torn, ripped apart. It was like it was bleeding. Only worse.

I cried till I exhausted myself. I could hear gunshots in the distance. Battle cries. Screams of men falling in battle. I did not want to hear anymore of it. I ran back to my house and bolted the doors. My mother grinned at me and said, “That Englishman is never going to come back.” That stung but I tried to ignore her and went up to my room. I shut the door and lay on my bed, sobbing the whole day. There was a slim chance that Arthur was coming back. A very slim chance.

The day after the next, which I spent in anxiety, I received a telegram. “Arthur Brown has fallen in combat due to a lethal gun wound in the heart.” I felt as if a knife had just stabbed me in the heart. Arthur was gone. He was gone from my life with just the pull of the trigger of a gun. Just like that. I collasped on the ground in tears. I wailed. I could not stand the pain. My mother smirked. I hated her. I just hated her. She was the effigy of evil. I felt murderous intent and looked away. I looked at the telegram. Fallen in combat. He died serving a country that his country decided to occupy. I wiped the tears from my eyes, sniffling. I would continue crying later. Up in my room. I did not like my mother watching me wail with that self-satisfied evil grin of hers.

A knock on the door was heard the next day. My mother opened the door and disgust spread across her face. An Englishman stood there. “Catherine! For you!” my mum screeched. I walked to the door and saw one of Arthur's comrades. “Catherine...” I looked at his face. It was full of anguish. “We won that particular battle, in case you are wondering.” I looked at him. My eyes were still red and puffy. I had cried for the whole day the day before. And I had not eaten anything for a second day in a row. Misery had been consuming me for the past three days. There was a slight glimmer of hope in me when I saw this soldier. He was never close to Arthur. Perhaps the reason for his anguish was because one of his other friends had been killed. Maybe the telegram was incorrect! I looked at the soldier and expected him to say something. He did. But not what I wanted to hear.

“I'm sorry for your loss.” My hopes all crumbled into dust. “Thank you for your condolence.” The soldier forced a weak smile, “This is for you. Arthur had this right next to his body.” I stared at the piece of paper that the soldier had handed me. “Well, good bye, Catherine.” He walked off and I shut the door. I was torn between confusion and misery. I went back to my room and opened the note. It had blood stains on it. Arthur's blood stains. The blood he shed before he died.

I looked at my grandchildren. The Chinese businessman was actually not an old geezer. He was a young, dashing man that reminded me of Arthur. What was more, he did not treat me like most men treated their wives. I was not dirt. I was his wife. The one that he would have to grow to love. And that he did. Soon after I got married to him, I fell for him as well. In the end, even if Arthur was still alive, it would not have made a difference. I had a new love. This man had captured my heart. I had a son and my son had children. Children, one of the blessings of life. I guess I was blessed. I had been loved by two men in my life. Both of whom were deceased. Only my son, his wife and his children were the only family I had left. The only ones left in this world who loved me. I read the note in the middle of the frame and smiled.

“I love you too.”