

My 70-year-old grandmother received a Valentine’s gift from the only man she ever loved, a love she lost 50 years ago. But when she refused to see him, afraid of what the past might bring, I had to step in. Could I bring them together after all this time, or are some loves destined to stay in the past?
When you’re in a relationship, Valentine’s Day seems like a magical holiday: romance everywhere, couples in love, and happiness all around.

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But when you’re single, Valentine’s Day is nothing more than a cruel joke, a reminder of how miserable you are: romance everywhere, annoying couples in love, and everyone happy except you.
It wasn’t just the party itself, but everything that led up to it. I could practically feel the universe mocking me.
Being single, I couldn’t stand the sight of all the hearts, stuffed animals, and flowers anymore.

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To escape from it all, I decided to visit my grandmother. She lived in a small town where things moved slower and the holidays weren’t so overwhelming.
There were still three days left until Valentine’s Day, and he counted each one, waiting for it to end.
I just wanted life to get back to normal, without the constant reminder of how painfully alone I felt.

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Suddenly, my grandmother’s voice called me from the other room.
“Natalie!” His voice was high-pitched, urgent.
“Yes?” I asked, entering the room.
She was sitting in her chair by the window, a letter in her hand. She picked up the envelope, frowning. “I can’t find my glasses. Who is this letter from?”

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I took the envelope and looked at the handwriting. It was clean, neat, 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.”

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He snatched the letter from my hands before I could say another word. His fingers trembled as he opened it.
From it came a small Valentine’s card and a folded note. She took both, looking at them as if they were going to disappear. Then she handed them to me.
“Read it,” he told me.

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I unfolded the Valentine’s card first. “The card says, ‘I still love you.'” My chest tightened. “That’s… so sweet.”
He didn’t react. His eyes remained fixed on the note. “And the letter? What does the letter say?” he insisted.
I took a breath and opened the paper. The handwriting was elegant, careful, as if someone had taken their time with each word. I began to read aloud.

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“My dearest Mary, fifty years ago, you and I had one night. A night that changed me forever. I never forgot you, but I had no idea how to find you. That day you didn’t arrive at the Paris station and you broke my heart forever.”
I swallowed and looked up. My grandmother was sitting frozen, her hands clasped together. I continued.

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“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 train station in New York the same night we last saw each other. Always yours, Todd.”
Silence filled the room. I felt a lump in my throat. I blinked back tears, but my grandmother didn’t even try to hold back hers.

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“Who’s Todd?” I asked quietly.
She wiped her face with her sleeve and took a ragged breath. “The only man I’ve ever truly loved,” she whispered.
I stared at her. “What? And Grandpa?”

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She looked down at the letter in her lap. “I loved your grandfather very much,” she said. “But I loved Todd, the kind of love that poems and songs are written about. Even though we only spent one night together, he understood me better than anyone.”
“Did this happen in Paris?” I asked.

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She nodded, a small smile on her lips. “I was there as a tourist. Todd was a student. We met on the subway. We spent the whole night walking around the city, talking…”
“The next morning, I had to fly home. Todd drove me to the train station so I could get to the airport, and we agreed to meet a year later, on the same day, at the same station.”
“And what happened?”

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Her smile faded. She swallowed hard. “My mother died. Her funeral was the same day I was supposed to fly to Paris to meet Todd.”
I exhaled slowly. “Did you tell him?”
“How?” he asked, shaking his head. “I didn’t have his address. There were no cell phones back then.”
“So you never saw him again?”

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She shook her head.
“What day was it?”
His voice was barely audible. “February 14th.”
I sighed, looking at the letter. “The most romantic day of the year, in the most romantic city on Earth.

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A sad smile appeared on his lips.
“You have to go meet him,” I said.
His face hardened. “No. No way.”
“Because?”

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“I let him down that day. Who knows how our lives would have turned out if I had gone?”
“But now he wants to see you!” I argued.
His hands gripped the letter tightly. “No. End of discussion.”
My grandmother was a stubborn woman. Once she made a decision, there was no way to change it.

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I knew she wouldn’t agree to meet with Todd, no matter how much I begged her. So I had to take matters into my own hands.
A little deception never hurt anyone, especially if it’s for a good cause.
On February 14, I put on my coat and grabbed my car keys. “Grandma, I have an errand to run. Come with me,” I said casually.

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She sat in her chair, knitting, barely looking up. “What kind of errand?”
“It’ll be quick,” I said. “I don’t want to go alone.”
She sighed and stopped knitting. “Well, well. Let me get my coat.”
We got into the car and I started driving. The first few minutes were quiet, just the sound of the road under the tires. Then he looked out the window and frowned.

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“Natalie,” he said slowly. “Where exactly are we going?”
I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “To the train station,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow. “What station?”
I cleared my throat. “To New York.”

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He turned his head towards me. “What?”
“You have to see Todd,” I said. “He remembered you even after all these years.”
His face turned red. “No way! Turn around and let’s go back!”
“No,” I said firmly.

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He crossed his arms and snorted. “Then I’m not going to talk to you anymore.” He turned his face toward the window, his lips pressed into a thin line.
The rest of the ride was silent. She refused to look at me. I knew she was angry, but I also knew she needed him.
When we finally arrived at the train station, I parked the car and turned to her. “Let’s go,” I said.

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He didn’t move.
“Grandmother”.
He still didn’t move.
I sighed. “You may be stubborn, but so am I,” I said.

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She turned, narrowed her eyes, and slowly stepped out of the car. I took her by the arm and led her inside.
The station was packed, full of people running in different directions. I searched through the crowd for a man in his seventies. My heart was pounding.
But I didn’t see anyone.

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My grandmother let out a deep sigh. “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 began to doubt he would come.
But then a man about my age walked towards us. He looked nervous, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

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“Are you Mary?” he asked.
My grandmother straightened up. “Yes. Who are you, young man?”
“My name is Justin. I’m Todd’s grandson,” he said. “I sent you the letter.”
My mouth dropped open. “What? Does Todd know anything about this?”

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Justin hesitated. “No,” he admitted. “But he told me the story. He said he’d spent his whole life regretting not finding you. I couldn’t just sit back. So I found you, Natalie, and then I found Mary through you.”
I threw up my hands. “So we came all the way here for nothing?”
“No,” Justin said quickly. “My grandfather wants to see Mary. But he’s afraid she won’t want to see him.”

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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 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 only wrote it because he didn’t have the courage to do it.”

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My grandmother scoffed. “If he really wanted it, he would have written it himself.”
I crossed my arms. “Well, you didn’t go to Paris fifty years ago, and you were afraid to come here too,” I said. “So… do you want to see Todd or not?”
He didn’t answer.

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“Please,” Justin said. “I just want to make my grandpa happy.”
I took a breath. “We’ll go,” I said. “Someone should fall in love on Valentine’s Day.”
Justin smiled. “Don’t even say it.”
We arrived at Todd’s building. Justin led us to the apartment and knocked on the door.

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“Grandpa, it’s me!” he shouted.
A voice came from inside. “I’m coming!”
Justin turned to me and pushed me away. My grandmother was standing alone in front of the door.
The knob turned. The door opened.

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A man came out. He had grey hair and a slightly hunched posture. His face changed as soon as he saw her.
“Mary…”, he whispered.
I exclaimed, covering my mouth with my hand. Even Justin looked stunned.
“You remember me,” my grandmother said softly.

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Todd’s eyes filled with emotion. “How could I forget?”
They stood frozen, staring at each other. Neither of them spoke.
Then Todd stepped forward and pulled my grandmother into his arms. She let out a small sob as she clung to him.

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Justin turned to me. “It worked out well,” he said. “You convinced Mary to come, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I said.
“We make a good team,” he smiled. “Maybe we should celebrate over dinner?”
I smiled. “We’ll see.”

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