She knew that as long as she lived, she would never, ever forget him. She would never, ever forget how much pain he had caused her.
No matter how hard she tried, Cecilia Pritchard could not help thinking about Tom Riddle. He had used her, promising a marriage- a marriage into the richest family in Little Hangleton!- then broke his promise, running away with that tramp Gaunt’s daughter, Merope. She was not even remotely attractive, with her dirty clothes and crossed eyes and horrible family reputation- unlike Cecilia, who always made sure her dresses remained the brightest white around and her golden hair was always done up in the softest curls and that her virtues were known to everyone. Yes, Tom Riddle had hurt Cecilia badly. And yet she could not help but think of him. She could not help but remember him. The way his hair curled over his forehead. His mournful brown eyes. The freckles on his perfect nose. His laughing voice. Everything about him.
“He’s gone,” her mother would say. “He ran off with a tramp and hasn’t been heard of since. You deserve better, Cecilia, darling. Move on, girl.”
Yes, she did deserve better. Cecilia quickly admitted that, although she had waited almost a year before getting engaged again. She had hoped that Tom would realize his mistake and come to his senses. She had hoped that he had not actually married that horrible girl. But after a year, even Cecilia had given up, and she got engaged to another gentleman in the village. She assumed she would never see Tom Riddle again.
She still wouldn’t forget him, though.
But she did see him again. Three days before her wedding, she was out riding alone near the hovel where those horrible Gaunts had lived when she heard someone calling her name. She turned in her saddle to see him riding toward her. He looked as handsome as ever, with his dark hair and big brown eyes and perfectly chiseled face, but drawn, weary, as though he had just suffered a terrible shock.
“Hello, Mr. Riddle,” Cecilia said sharply when he had reached her. “And where is your honored wife?”
Tom had not missed the sarcasm in her voice. “Cecilia, darling, I...”
“How dare you?” she asked. “How dare you come back here and call me darling? You left me for her. You married a trollop. How can you show your face around here after that?”
“Cecilia...” he began again.
“Miss Pritchard, if you please,” she said coldly.
Tom stared at her, shocked and hurt. “I only married that horrible girl because... she bewitched me... tricked me... took me in... she said that she was going to have my baby and that her honor was at stake as well as mine...”
“She had no honor!” Cecilia cried. “She never had any honor! None of them did! And if you believed her story, if you believed that there was a baby, there must have been a cause! You were with her before you married her! You must have been! You swore to love no other woman but me, swore never to betray me, and the next day you dashed off with the first little slut who claimed she was carrying your baby! Everyone here is still gossiping about it! Do you know how much grief you caused your parents? And they still defend you, their precious only son! They still believe that you were only a silly boy, that you were blameless!”
“Please,” Tom pleaded, reaching for her hand. “Please, Cecilia... Miss Pritchard... I was wrong, I see that. I left her when I found out how she had lied to me, I came back here for you...Please, I can get the necessary paperwork done, I can divorce her... then we can get married like we were supposed to... like we always wanted to...”
“Don’t touch me! It does not matter that you left her,” Cecilia snapped. “You’re still married to her under the law. You believed her. You were with her when you were pledged to me. And besides,” she added, realizing that Tom had not heard the news. “I am to be married to Mr. Cooper Tremblay in three days time. You’re too late to reclaim me, even if you thought I would still want to be with you. And if you ever dare speak to me again, I will ensure that my husband beats you in a public street!”
Tom stared at her. “Cecilia...” he whispered, but she turned and rode away. “Cecilia!” he yelled after her, but she did not look back.
Sixteen years later, Tom and his parents were mysteriously murdered. Mrs. Cecilia Tremblay was not surprised to find that she did not care. She did not mourn.
She did not forget him.
Never.