Addison’s life revolves around her demanding job as a neurologist, leaving little time for romance. When her cheerful coworker Nathan sets her up on a blind date with a seemingly perfect guy named Jake, she finally feels a spark of hope. However, after Addison shares her three-year dating rule, her date abruptly leaves. What went wrong?
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I always thought my life would stay the same.
Day in and day out, the hospital consumed all my time.
A smiling young doctor | Source: Midjourney
My name is Addison, and I work as a neurologist. My days are filled with patients, charts, and endless rounds.
It’s a fulfilling job, but it leaves little room for anything else, especially dating.
A busy young woman | Source: Midjourney
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One day, while grabbing a quick coffee in the break room, my coworker Nathan walked in with a bright smile on his face.
Nathan is always in a good mood, no matter how stressful the day gets.
A smiling doctor | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, Addison,” Nathan said, leaning against the counter. “How do you feel about blind dates?”
I laughed, almost spilling my coffee. “Blind dates? Nathan, you know my schedule. I barely have time to eat, let alone date.”
Two professionals laughing and chatting | Source: Midjourney
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Nathan chuckled. “I know, but hear me out. My friend Jake is a great guy. He’s kind, funny, and I think you two would hit it off. What do you say?”
I paused, considering it. I hadn’t been on a date in ages, and the idea of meeting someone new was intriguing. Plus, Nathan seemed genuinely excited about it.
A couple enjoying drinks | Source: Pexels
“Okay, then,” I said, smiling. “You’ve convinced me. When’s this magical date happening?”
Nathan’s face lit up. “Really?? How about next Tuesday night? It’s the only evening that works for both of you!”
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Next Tuesday. I mentally checked my calendar. It was one of the rare nights I didn’t have a late shift or any other commitments.
“Next Tuesday works for me,” I said. “Let’s do it.”
A female doctor talking to a male doctor | Source: Midjourney
Nathan grinned. “Great! I’ll set it up and text you the details. You won’t regret this, Addison,” he said with a wink.
“We’ll see that,” I laughed and finished my coffee quickly.
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As I walked back to my office, I felt both excited and nervous. It had been so long since I had gone on a date.
My life had become a routine of work and more work, with little time for anything else. But maybe this was what I needed — a chance to step out of my comfort zone.
A doctor lost in her work | Source: Midjourney
The rest of the day flew by in a blur of patient consultations and medical charts. But in the back of my mind, I kept thinking about the upcoming date. Maybe, just maybe, this blind date with Jake would be the start of something new.
On Tuesday night, I arrived at the quaint restaurant Nathan had suggested.
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It was cozy, with dim lighting and a warm ambiance that immediately put me at ease. As I walked in, I spotted a man sitting at a table near the window.
He looked up, smiled, and waved me over.
This must be Jake, I thought to myself.
A smiling man at a table | Source: Midjourney
“Addison?” he asked as I approached the table.
“Yes, and you must be Jake,” I replied with a smile.
A couple on a date | Source: Freepik
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We shook hands, and I took a seat. Almost immediately, the waitress came over to take our drink orders.
“I’ll have a glass of red wine, please,” I said.
“I’ll have the same,” Jake added.
Two people enjoying wine | Source: Freepik
As the waitress left, we started chatting. Jake was easy to talk to, and I felt my initial nervousness melt away.
“So, Nathan tells me you’re a neurologist,” he said, looking genuinely interested. “That must be a challenging job.”
A couple lost in each other’s eyes | Source: Freepik
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“It is,” I nodded. “But I love it. What about you? What do you do?”
“I’m a graphic designer,” Jake replied. “I work freelance, so my schedule is pretty flexible. It’s a lot of fun, especially when I get to work on creative projects.”
A person working on their laptop | Source: Pexels
Our drinks arrived, and we ordered appetizers — stuffed mushrooms and bruschetta. As we nibbled on the delicious food, we continued to talk about our lives, hobbies, and interests.
“I love hiking and photography,” Jake said, taking a sip of his wine. “There’s something about being in nature that’s so refreshing.”
A male photographer | Source: Pexels
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“I’ve always wanted to get into photography,” I said. “But I never seem to find the time. Maybe you could give me some tips?”
“I’d love to,” Jake said with a smile. “It’s all about finding the right light and angle.”
A woman with a camera | Source: Pexels
As the evening went on, I found myself more and more charmed by Jake. He was kind, funny, and easy to talk to.
We laughed a lot, and it felt like I had known him for much longer than just one evening.
A cozy couple | Source: Freepik
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As we moved on to our main course, Jake looked at me with a smile. “So, Addison, how about we ask each other some more personal questions to break the ice further?”
“Sure, that sounds good,” I said. “What do you want to know?”
Food | Source: Unsplash
Jake leaned in slightly. “How about your one-to-five-year plan? What are your goals?”
I took a moment to think. “Well, I hope to advance in my career as a neurologist,” I began.
A woman staring at her man | Source: Freepik
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“Maybe get promoted to a senior position. I also want to decorate my apartment; it feels too plain right now,” I continued. “I’ve been thinking about getting a pet, maybe a cat or a small dog. And I’d love to travel more, see new places, and experience different cultures. Oh, and I want to expand my bookshelf with my favorite novels. I love reading!”
Pile of books and cup on top | Source: Unsplash
“That sounds wonderful. You have a lot of exciting plans!” he grinned.
“What about you?” I asked, curious to hear about his future plans.
“I want to grow my freelance business,” Jake said. “Maybe open my own studio one day. I also love traveling, so I’d like to visit more countries. And, believe it or not, I’ve been thinking about getting a pet too. A dog, probably.”
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A dog | Source: Unsplash
We laughed at the coincidence, and it felt nice to find common ground!
“So, how do you feel about marriage and family?” Jake further asked as he sipped his wine.
And this is where it all went horribly wrong.
A family | Source: Unsplash
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“Honestly, I’d love to find a partner to share my life with,” I told him, “someone who understands and supports me. But marriage isn’t a necessity for me. If it happens, great, but if not, that’s okay too. As for children, I don’t see myself having any. For now. I’m happy with my career and personal goals.”
Jake leaned forward, looking serious. “What if you found the perfect guy? How long before you’d marry him?”
Two people smiling at each other and standing close | Source: Freepik
“Three years,” I said. “I believe in building a strong foundation. Six months to really get to know someone, a year of serious dating, and a year and a half of living together before considering engagement or marriage.”
Jake’s face changed, his friendly expression replaced by a frown. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Three years? That’s a long time. What if someone wants a quicker timeline?”
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An upset man | Source: Midjourney
I felt a knot forming in my stomach. “Well, uh, I think it’s important to take time to build a strong relationship. I’m pretty confident about my three-year-plan.”
Jake’s frown deepened, and he abruptly called the waitress. “Check, please,” he said curtly. She looked confused but quickly brought the bill.
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“Jake, what’s wrong?” I asked as he stood up, but he didn’t bother to answer. He paid and walked out of the restaurant without a glance back.
I sat there, stunned and hurt. What just happened?
Later, at home, I couldn’t stop thinking about the evening.
A woman staring at her reflection | Source: Pexels
How could Jake just leave like that?
Deciding I needed answers, I messaged him.
I sent a selfie we took together and wrote, “Hey Jake, why did you leave so suddenly? I thought we were having a great time.”
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A few minutes later, his reply came: “Don’t contact me again. You’re indecisive and not serious about what you want.”
Then, he blocked me.
I stared at my phone in disbelief. Was I really that off base?
The next day at work, I noticed Nathan giving me strange glances. Gathering my courage, I decided to confront him.
A man holding a phone in his hands | Source: Unsplash
“Nathan, what did Jake tell you? You know why he left, don’t you?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Nathan looked uncomfortable and shifted on his feet. “You messed it up, Addy,” he said. “Jake… told me you were wasting his time. He wanted something serious. He was looking for marriage, and you… you weren’t the best person for him. Sorry, I gotta go.”
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A sad doc | Source: Midjourney
I couldn’t believe it.
During my lunch break, I called my best friend, Sophie.
“Hey, Addison. How did the date go?” was the first thing she asked.
A cheerful woman on video call | Source: Pexels
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I sighed, feeling the weight of the evening pressing on me. “It started great, but then it ended terribly. Jake left abruptly after I talked about my three-year plan, and then he blocked me when I asked him why.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “He did what? That’s ridiculous! What exactly happened?”
A sad young doctor | Source: Midjourney
I recounted every detail, my voice trembling slightly as I relived the evening. When I finished, Sophie shook her head. “Addison, being honest about your expectations is important. If he couldn’t handle that, it’s his loss.”
“I can’t stop wondering if my three-year rule is really that strange, Sophie,” I admitted, my voice breaking a bit.
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An anxious doctor | Source: Midjourney
“Not at all,” Sophie said firmly. “Everyone has their own timeline and needs. What matters is that you stay true to yourself. If he couldn’t appreciate that, he wasn’t the right guy for you.”
Her words wrapped around me like a comforting blanket. But it didn’t ease all my worries. Was I wrong to be upfront about my expectations? Should I have kept it to myself? All I know is that being honest about what I want is important, even if it means losing a date like Jake.
A doctor focused on her work | Source: Midjourney
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What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one: Julia is excited to surprise her husband on his birthday, but everything changes when she hears an unexpected voice. Hiding in the living room, her heart pounds as her husband’s laughter mingles with another woman’s. What will Julia uncover?
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This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
My Neighbor Copied Everything I Did Until I Discovered the Heartbreaking Reason – Story of the Day
I moved to a broken-down farm I’d just inherited, hoping for peace. But when my neighbor copied my yellow fence, I had no idea it was just the beginning of something much deeper and personal.
I grew up in a foster family that did their best. They were kind and patient, always packed my lunch, and clapped at my school plays, even when I stood in the back wearing a cardboard tree costume.
But real love is more than warm meals and polite claps. It’s… knowing where you come from.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
No one ever told me anything about my biological parents. The papers said they’d asked for complete confidentiality. No names. No birthdays. No stories. Just a blank space where something big should’ve been.
I used to dream that maybe they were spies. Or rock stars. Or lost somewhere in the jungle. Anything was better than the thought that they didn’t care.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
I grew up fast. By 15, I was already handing out flyers outside strip malls.
At 16, I walked dogs for people who barely remembered my name. At 18, I poured coffee for grumpy regulars who tipped in nickels and gave life advice I didn’t ask for.
“You should marry rich, sweetheart. You’ve got kind eyes.”
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By 19, I was an official barista with a crooked name tag and memorized drink orders. Then came more jobs. Caregiver. Mail carrier. Gardener. For a while, I even collected roadkill off the highway.
Don’t ask. No, really—don’t.
I knew how to survive. But it felt like bad luck ran in my DNA.
By 27, I landed my dream office job. A stable paycheck. Weekends off. It felt like winning.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
On the same day, I got sick. Six months of tests, doctors shrugging.
“Could be stress.”
Yeah, no kidding.
At 30, I became a nanny. The other nanny claimed I stole money from the family. I didn’t, but I got fired. I stood outside the building with one suitcase, my emergency fund stuffed in my jacket pocket, and a thousand-yard stare.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Then my phone rang.
“Ellie? It’s Jake, your father’s attorney,” a warm voice said.
“My who?”
“Your father, Henry. He passed away recently. You’ve been named the sole heir of his farm. It’s about 30 kilometers out of town. You can pick up the keys tomorrow.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“A farm?” I repeated. “A father?”
“Biological,” he said gently. “I’ll explain more in person.”
I didn’t sleep a minute that night. I had a father. He left me a home. For the first time in my life, something belonged to me.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
***
When I pulled up to the farm, I sat there for a minute, staring at the house, the fields, the silence. One question circled in my head like a fly that wouldn’t leave me alone.
Why did he leave it to me?
The house looked tired. Chipped paint peeled away from the walls, and weeds covered the yard. But then I saw the barn. It was clean. The red paint was fresh, and the doors were straight and solid. It looked proud.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Curious, I stepped inside. The scent of hay hit me first. The floor was swept. Neat stacks of hay lined the walls.
A row of fresh eggs sat in a basket like someone had just collected them. A bucket of water glistened in the corner, clean enough to drink.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
And then there were the animals. Chickens clucked softly, pecking the straw. A big brown-and-white cow stood calmly, blinking at me.
The dog was the strangest part. He sat by the door like he’d been waiting for me. His fur was a little shaggy. I crouched.
“Come here, boy…”
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He trotted over and licked my hand like we’d known each other for years.
“Okay, weird,” I said softly, glancing around. “Who’s been feeding you?”
It had been a week since my father had passed away.
So… who’s been taking care of all this? Must’ve been the neighbors.
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I dropped my bag by the door and looked around inside the house. Dust floated through the sunlight like lazy snowflakes.
On the wall hung a single photo. A man in his 50s. His eyes were warm. My chest ached just looking at him—my father.
I sat on the floor and looked around. I didn’t know that man. Didn’t know that farm. But somehow, I wasn’t scared. I stayed.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
***
Each morning, I woke up with a purpose. I fixed the fence, painted the porch, and learned how to collect eggs without getting pecked.
I wasn’t sure how, but I just knew what to do. It was like something inside me had clicked—a secret switch.
“Farmer Mode ON.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
But just as I started to feel at home, she showed up.
Linda. My neighbor.
At first, I thought she was just shy. Then, I thought she was a little odd.
Then, she… started copying everything I did. That’s when things started to get weird.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
***
“What the…?”
I froze by the kitchen window, a spoonful of cereal halfway to my mouth.
Just the day before, I had painted my fence bright yellow. It was the only can of paint I found in the shed, and I was on a budget. The paint smelled awful, but the fence looked cheerful.
At that moment, staring across the property line, I saw Linda’s fence. It was also yellow, the same shade.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Maybe just a coincidence.”
The next day, I built a new mailbox. I was proud of it—wooden, with a tiny sloped roof and a carved little bird sitting on top. It took me all afternoon and three Band-Aids.
I stepped back and said aloud, “You nailed it, Ellie.”
The following morning, I stepped outside… and there it was. Linda’s mailbox. Same shape. Same roof. The exact same bird.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, clutching my coffee cup.
I tried to be polite and waved to Linda when I saw her outside. She never waved back—just scurried into her barn like I’d caught her doing something illegal.
But then came the daisies. They were my favorite. I planted them in a curved line near my front steps.
The next morning?
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Linda had the same daisies. Same curve. The same little row of stones was around them. I walked outside and just stared at her yard.
Is she watching me? Copying me on purpose?
I tried to brush it off until yoga.
One sunny morning, I rolled my mat on the grass and started my usual routine. Just some stretches to loosen up.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
When I looked over, Linda was wobbling in my exact pose.
She was wearing jeans and a floppy hat. She was copying again.
That was it. My patience was gone. I marched across the yard and knocked on her wooden gate.
“Hey, Linda! We need to talk!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
The door creaked open slowly. She stood there, still, silent. Her dark eyes met mine. Wide. Serious. A little scared.
“Why are you copying everything I do? What do you want from me?!”
She didn’t answer. Just stepped back and nodded slightly.
I followed her into the house. That’s when I saw them.
Letters. Dozens of them. Scattered on the table. All addressed to me.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“What are these?”
She picked up the top one and handed it to me. Her fingers shook. I opened it.
“My dear Ellie,
I don’t know how to talk to you. I don’t know if you’d even want to listen.
But I am… your mother. I lived near your father. We were never officially divorced, but we lived apart. When you were born, I was… different.
I have autism.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Life overwhelmed me. Your father decided it would be best if a stable, loving family raised you. But I always knew about you. And when he died, I took care of the farm. And then you came…
I didn’t know how to approach you or how to speak.
So I started doing what you did.
It was my way… of being close.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I reread the letter. And again.
“You…” I looked up.
She stood still, barely breathing. I reached for another letter—an older one. A photo fell out. Young Linda was holding a toddler, both smiling.
“Is this…?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
“That’s my daughter. Ellie.”
“Me?”
“My daughter,” she repeated softly. “You’re Ellie.”
Suddenly… I don’t know why, but… I turned and ran. Back to my yard. Past the daisies. Past the mailbox.
And I cried. I didn’t know how to fix anything, and I didn’t know if I was ready for it.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
***
A few days passed.
I stayed inside. No reading, no coffee, no watering the daisies. I just lay on the couch, watching shadows crawl across the ceiling, hoping they’d spell out something that made sense.
I wasn’t sick. Not in a way any doctor could fix. It was the kind of ache that fills your chest and makes everything feel… weightless and heavy at the same time.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
I thought that knowing the truth would bring peace.
But instead of closure, I found a mother. And somehow, that unraveled me more than all the years I’d spent wondering.
Then, one morning, I opened the front door. A stack of letters—thick envelopes tied with string—sitting quietly on my doorstep.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I took them inside with trembling hands. Each envelope was marked with a year. One letter for every year of my life. Thirty letters.
I read the first. Then, the second. Then, all of them.
Each one was handwritten in a neat, careful script. Some had drawings. Others had dried petals tucked inside. All were full of emotion, wonder, sorrow… and love.
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So much love.
Linda wrote to me every year—for birthdays, first days of school I never told her about, and college she didn’t even know I’d never finished. She imagined it all, sending wishes into the void.
I cried over every single page. Sobbed. Because for the first time in my life, I didn’t feel forgotten.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
On the third morning, I opened the door again.
The flowerbeds had been watered. The animals were fed. The yard looked freshly swept.
A folded note was tucked under a jar of jam left on the porch.
“Saved the milk in my fridge.
Love, Mom”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Mom.
I held the note in my hands and stared at that one word.
For the first time, it didn’t feel imaginary. I had a mother—a quiet, complicated, awkward woman who showed love not through words but through letters and gestures.
And I realized… maybe it wasn’t her who had failed me. Perhaps it was the situation. The way life broke apart before either of us could hold it together.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
Dad’s guilt now lives with me: in these walls, in this land, in the silence he left behind. But I have the power to rewrite the ending.
Right then, I made a decision. I stepped out into the morning sun. Barefoot, like always.
Linda was in her yard, wobbling in a half-hearted yoga pose, her sunhat nearly falling over her eyes. But she was trying—still trying.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
My heart ached. I walked toward the fence.
“That’s… the warrior pose. I’m not a huge fan either.”
She froze, then slowly turned. A small, shy smile tugged at her lips.
“You’re doing great,” I added. “But you’ll do better without the hat.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
She took it off, smoothed the brim with her fingers, and laid it gently on the grass. Then, she moved into the tree pose. She wobbled and fell over sideways.
I really laughed—for the first time in days.
“Okay,” I said, stepping closer to the fence. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll show you one pose, and you try it. But… no more mailbox copying.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Okay,” she whispered.
“You’ll do better if you relax your fingers.”
And we stood there—both of us—finally on the same side of the yard, under the same sky. A little clumsy. A little unsure. But no longer alone.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Later, we made tea at my place. I pointed to the photo from her letter.
“That photo… that’s you?”
She nodded.
“And my daughter Ellie. It’s you and me.”
“I’ve read all the letters. Thank you, Mom.”
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She clutched her teacup with both hands.
“Can I… try that one pose tomorrow? The one with the leg in the air?”
I nodded. We both smiled. Then we laughed. And somehow, it felt like life was finding its color again.
And you know what?
That yellow fence didn’t seem so weird anymore. Maybe it was the beginning. Just like us.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
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