My 70-year-old grandmother received a Valentine’s gift from the only man she ever truly loved—a love she lost fifty years ago. But when she refused to see him, afraid of what the past might bring, I knew I had to step in. Could I reunite them after all this time, or was some love meant to remain in the past?
Valentine’s Day can be magical when you’re in a relationship—romance everywhere, couples in love, happiness all around.
But when you’re single, it becomes a cruel reminder of your loneliness—romance everywhere, annoying couples in love, and everyone is happy except you.
It wasn’t just the holiday itself; it was everything leading up to it. I could practically feel the universe mocking me.
Being single, I couldn’t stand the sight of hearts, plush toys, and flowers.
To escape it all, I decided to visit my grandmother. She lived in a small town where time moved slower, and holidays didn’t feel as overwhelming.
There were still three days left until Valentine’s Day, and I counted each one, eager for it to be over.
I just wanted life to go back to normal, without the constant reminder of my painfully single status.
Suddenly, my grandmother’s voice called from the other room.
“Natalie!” Her tone was sharp, urgent.
“Yes?” I asked, stepping in.
She sat by the window, holding a letter. “I can’t find my glasses. Who’s this from?”
I took the envelope, glanced at the handwriting—neat and unfamiliar—and turned it over. There was a name written on the back. “It’s from someone named Todd,” I said.
Her expression shifted. “Todd?” she whispered. “That… that can’t be.”
She snatched the letter from my hands, trembling as she opened it.
A Valentine’s card slipped out, along with a folded note. She stared at them as if they might vanish at any moment, then handed them to me.
“Read it,” she urged.
I unfolded the Valentine’s card first. “It says, ‘I still love you.’” My chest tightened. “That’s… really sweet.”
She didn’t respond, her eyes glued to the note. “And the letter? What does the letter say?” she pressed.
I took a deep breath and began reading aloud.
“My dearest Mary, fifty years ago, we had just one night. One night that changed me forever. I never forgot you, but I didn’t know how to find you. You never came to the train station in Paris that day, and it broke my heart forever.”
I swallowed hard and glanced up. My grandmother sat motionless, her hands clasped. I continued.
“But I found you through your granddaughter’s social media. If you still remember me, if that night meant anything to you, meet me at the New York train station on the same night we last saw each other. Forever yours, Todd.”
Silence enveloped the room. My throat tightened. I blinked back tears, but my grandmother didn’t try to stop hers from falling.
“Who is Todd?” I asked quietly.
She wiped her face with her sleeve and took a shaky breath. “The only man I ever truly loved,” she whispered.
I stared at her. “But… what about Grandpa?”
She looked down at the letter in her lap. “I loved your grandfather,” she said. “But Todd… I loved Todd with the kind of love they write poems and songs about. Even though we only had one night, he understood me better than anyone.”
“This happened in Paris?” I asked.
She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I was there as a tourist. Todd was a student. We met on the subway. We spent the whole night talking, walking through the city…”
“The next morning, I had to fly home. Todd took me to the train station to catch my flight, and we agreed to meet one year later, same day, same station.”
“And then?”
Her smile faded. She swallowed hard. “My mother died. Her funeral was on the same day I was supposed to fly to Paris to meet Todd.”
I exhaled slowly. “Did you tell him?”
“How could I?” she whispered. “I didn’t have his address. No mobile phones back then.”
“So you never saw him again?”
She shook her head.
“What day was it?”
Her voice barely rose above a whisper. “February 14.”
I sighed, staring at the letter. “The most romantic day of the year, in the most romantic city on Earth.”
A sad smile touched her lips.
“You have to meet him,” I said.
Her face hardened. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“I let him down that day. Who knows how our lives would’ve turned out if I had gone?”
“But he wants to see you now!” I argued.
Her hands clenched around the letter. “No. End of discussion.”
My grandmother was as stubborn as they come. Once she made up her mind, there was no changing it.
I knew she wouldn’t agree to meet Todd, no matter how much I begged. So I had to take matters into my own hands.
A little trickery never hurt anyone, especially for a good cause.
On February 14, I put on my coat and grabbed the car keys. “Grandma, I need to run an errand. Come with me,” I said casually.
She barely glanced up. “What kind of errand?”
“It’ll be quick,” I said. “I just don’t want to go alone.”
She sighed and put her knitting down. “Fine, fine. Let me get my coat.”
We got in the car, and I started driving. It was quiet for a few minutes, just the sound of the tires on the road. Then, she frowned and looked out the window.
“Natalie,” she said slowly, “Where exactly are we going?”
I tightened my grip on the wheel. “To the train station,” I said.
She raised an eyebrow. “Which train station?”
I cleared my throat. “New York.”
Her head snapped toward me. “What?!”
“You need to meet Todd,” I said. “He remembers you after all these years.”
Her face turned red. “No way! Turn the car around!”
“No,” I said firmly.
She folded her arms, her lips pressed in a tight line. “Then I’m not speaking to you anymore.”
The rest of the drive was silent. She refused to look at me. I knew she was upset, but I also knew she needed this.
When we finally arrived at the train station, I parked and turned to her. “Come on,” I said.
She didn’t move.
“Grandma.”
Still nothing.
I sighed. “You might be stubborn, but so am I,” I said.
She narrowed her eyes, then slowly got out of the car. I guided her inside.
The station was busy, full of people rushing to and fro. I scanned the crowd, searching for a man in his seventies. My heart pounded.
But I didn’t see him.
My grandmother let out a deep breath. “He’s not coming,” she said. “He probably wanted to get back at me for not showing up all those years ago.”
I didn’t want to believe it, but the longer we stood there without seeing Todd, the more I doubted he would show up.
Then, a man around my age approached us. He looked nervous, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Are you Mary?” he asked.
My grandmother straightened. “Yes. Who are you?”
“My name is Justin. I’m Todd’s grandson,” he said. “I sent you the letter.”
My mouth dropped. “What?! Does Todd even know about this?”
Justin hesitated. “No,” he admitted. “But he told me the story. He spent his whole life regretting that he never found you. I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. So I found you, Natalie, and then Mary.”
I threw my hands up in exasperation. “So we came all this way for nothing?!”
“No,” Justin said quickly. “My grandfather wants to see Mary. But he’s afraid she won’t want to see him.”
My grandmother shook her head. “I told you we shouldn’t have come.” She turned to leave.
“Wait,” I said. “How do I know Todd won’t just slam the door in my grandmother’s face?”
Justin’s eyes softened. “He won’t,” he said. “Every word in that letter was his. I just wrote it because he didn’t have the courage.”
My grandmother scoffed. “If he really wanted this, he would have written it himself.”
I crossed my arms. “Well, you didn’t go to Paris fifty years ago, and you were scared to come here, too,” I said. “So… do you want to see Todd or not?”
She didn’t answer.
“Please,” Justin said. “I just want to make my grandfather happy.”
I took a deep breath. “We’ll go,” I said. “Someone should get to be in love on Valentine’s Day.”
Justin smiled. “Oh, tell me about it.”
We arrived at Todd’s building. Justin led us inside and knocked on the door.
“Grandpa, it’s me!” he called out.
A voice answered from inside. “I’m coming!”
Justin pulled me aside. My grandmother stood alone in front of the door.
The knob turned. The door opened.
A man stepped out. His hair was gray, his posture slightly hunched. His face changed when he saw her.
“Mary…” he whispered.
I gasped, covering my mouth. Even Justin looked stunned.
“You remember me,” my grandmother said softly.
Todd’s eyes filled with emotion. “How could I ever forget?”
They stood frozen, staring at each other. Neither spoke.
Then, Todd stepped forward and embraced my grandmother. She let out a small sob, clinging to him.
Justin turned to me. “We did good,” he said. “You convinced Mary to come, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” I said, smiling.
“We make a great team,” he grinned. “How about dinner to celebrate?”
I smiled. “We’ll see.”