My 70-year-old grandma got 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 stay in the past?
When you’re in a relationship, Valentine’s Day feels like a magical holiday—romance everywhere, couples in love, and happiness all around. But when you’re single, Valentine’s Day becomes nothing more than a cruel joke, a reminder of how miserable you are—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 could no longer stand the sight of all the hearts, plush toys, and flowers. To escape it all, I decided to visit my grandmother.
She lived in a small town where things moved slower, and holidays didn’t feel as overwhelming. There were still three days left until Valentine’s Day, and I counted each one, waiting for it to be over. I just wanted life to go back to normal, without the constant reminder of how painfully single I was.
Suddenly, my grandmother’s voice called out from the other room. “Natalie!” Her voice was sharp, urgent. “Yes?” I asked, stepping into the room.
She sat in her chair by the window, a letter in her hand. She held the envelope up, frowning. “I can’t find my glasses.
Who is this letter from?”
I took the envelope from her and glanced at the handwriting. It was neat, careful, unfamiliar. I turned it over and saw a name scrawled on the back.
“It’s from someone named Todd,” I said. Her expression changed. “Todd?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.
“That… that can’t be.”
She snatched the letter from my hands before I could say another word. Her fingers trembled as she tore it open. A small Valentine’s card slipped out, along with a folded note.
She picked up both, staring at them like they might disappear. Then she held them out to me. “Read it,” she said.
I unfolded the Valentine’s card first. “The card says, ‘I still love you.’” My chest tightened. “That’s… really sweet.”
She didn’t react.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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