A woman turns down her ex-lover’s invitation to meet him 53 years after they broke up, but when she comes across some of his old letters, she reconsiders her decision and visits him – only to find his house in shambles.
76-year-old Bessie Walsh had always been a joyful, vibrant woman, but after losing her better half Edward to cancer three years ago, she was reduced to a forlorn and dejected soul.
Bessie and Edward had been happily married for 45 years, had two lovely daughters, and had a beautiful home in a wonderful neighborhood. But when Edward left her for his heavenly abode, the cheerful woman was left heartbroken and alone.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Bessie’s daughters, Stephanie and Cassandra, were both married and settled abroad, so the only company she had in her later years were her children’s photo albums and memories when they were young. As a result, she rummaged through her storeroom every evening to find all the old albums and sat for hours looking through them.
One evening, she was looking for one of their family albums when she found a stack of envelopes buried in a corner beneath an old crate. She dusted them off to have a better look at them when one of the envelopes fell to the floor, revealing a letter.
She brought everything into the living room and put on her glasses to read them, but as soon as she opened the first letter, her heart began to race.
“Hi Bessie,
This is Troy. I’m so sorry, Bess. Look, I understand you’re upset with me, but please give me a chance to explain myself. What you saw was not true, trust me. I have only loved you, and I won’t look at anyone the same way. Meet me today at the Red Rose Cafe at 5:00 p.m. I’m in your hometown. I’ll explain everything. I promise.
With love, Troy.”
No one could have predicted that the happy, constantly smiling Bessie would have a sad side too, but she did…
When she was 23, she was madly in love with Troy Evans, a young and attractive man. They’d met at university and fallen in love, and Troy had even proposed to her. Bessie had said yes without hesitation, and their wedding had already been planned. But then something happened one evening a week before the wedding that changed everything…
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Bessie was out with her friends at a restaurant when she noticed Troy. She initially assumed she had misidentified the man as Troy, but she knew it was him when she looked at him again. She was about to approach him and give him a back hug when a gorgeous brunette ran up to him and kissed him on the cheek. Then they held each other’s hands and walked away to a table together.
Bessie was shocked, to say the least. “Really, Troy? You’re cheating on me!” She sobbed her way out of the restaurant that day, swearing never to see him again. However, she left him a farewell letter, stating she was moving back to her hometown and that everything between them was over.
Troy wrote numerous letters to her after receiving her final letter, begging her to give him a chance to explain himself, but she didn’t bother to read any of them. Later, she married Edward after falling in love with him. She’d even forgotten she had Troy’s letters with her until a postman showed up on her doorstep one day. “You’ve got a letter, ma’am. Pretty fancy! No one does it these days!”
Bessie wondered who would send her a letter as her parents had died a long time ago, and her husband was an orphan with no living relatives. She had opened the letter out of curiosity, only to discover that it was written by Troy.
“Dear Bessie,
It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? It took me a long time to find you, but I did. I didn’t come to meet you because I don’t want to cause problems in your marriage. But I just want to see you once, Bess. You haven’t responded to any of my letters in all these years, but please give me one chance to explain myself. I’m living in Chicago, and you’ll find my address inside the envelope. Please, Bess, meet me once. I’m hoping you won’t decline my request this time.
With love,
Troy Evans. “
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
It happened about a year after Edward’s death, and Bessie was still in grief, so she threw that letter and the others he’d sent later in the storeroom, never planning to read them. However, as she read one of his letters again this evening, she felt something – presumably a longing to be with someone or be loved – and moved on to the next one.
“Dear Bessie,
This is the last letter I’ll be writing you. I wrote to you so many times, and I really wanted to meet you, but I guess it won’t happen. So I’m writing this letter to explain why I kept telling you I didn’t cheat on you.
One of my friends had requested me to act as his sister’s boyfriend that day so that the boys who were stalking her wouldn’t bother her. Bess, it was all a joke. I wanted to tell you about it earlier, but you were at your grandparents’ house at the time, and when you got back, everything was messed up.
I’ve only loved you with all of my heart, and I’ve never even considered anyone else. I’m still single, and I’m hoping you’ll forgive me and come back to me. But if not, then I guess this is goodbye.
With love,
Troy Evans.”
Bessie’s eyes welled up as she finished reading. Troy had never been unfaithful to her. In truth, he had wanted to tell her everything, but she was too angry to think rationally. She couldn’t help but feel bad for the man who had honestly loved her his entire life. She rummaged through the letters in a frenzy to find the envelope with his address and decided to pay him a visit.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
However, when she arrived there, all she found was an old, decaying house with broken roofing and worn-out paint. She began inquiring with the neighbors about him, but nobody knew anything. Dejected, she had almost left the neighborhood when her gaze was drawn to a 95-year-old frail woman.
She’d been looking intently at her from the moment she’d arrived there. She felt there was something she knew and wanted to tell her, so she decided to approach her. “Excuse me, do you know anything about Troy Evans?” she gently asked.
The older woman didn’t utter a word and handed her a note. “Go to this address; he’ll be there. He left this place two years ago and never returned,” it said. Bessie realized the woman was mute, which is why she didn’t say anything.
“Thank you!” she whispered to the woman before heading to the address. An hour later, her search for Troy brought her to The Oliver Nursing Home, where she quickly spotted him. He was sitting immobile on a wheelchair in the outer yard, almost like a statue. His previously vibrant, sparkling eyes had a strange dead expression, and his face was dotted with wrinkles.
Bessie’s eyes welled up as she approached him. “Hi, Troy. How are you? It’s me, Bessie!”
The man slowly turned his wheelchair to face her, but he didn’t utter a word.
Bessie smiled at him, teary-eyed, and held his hand in hers. “I’m finally here, Troy. I’m sorry I ignored you all these years. Please forgive me,” she whispered gently.
Suddenly a voice interrupted her. “There’s no point in trying, ma’am. I’m afraid he won’t recognize you.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Shutterstock
Bessie turned around and saw a woman in her late 50s standing there. She was Debbie, Troy’s caretaker at the nursing home. She informed her that Troy had suffered from memory loss due to the stroke and was unable to speak.
Bessie’s heart sank when she heard that. Now that she finally met Troy after all these years, he was in such a condition that he didn’t even recognize her! But she decided she won’t give up so soon.
She began visiting him often and told him their stories – how they’d met, showed him the letters too – in the hopes that he would recall something. It didn’t help much initially, but once, when she went to meet him, he cried terribly after reading one of the letters. He kept sobbing, and it was the first time he finally recognized Bessie and called her name! Even the nurses were stunned. It was indeed a miracle!
Bessie brought Troy home that day, and they are now living happily together. She is grateful she decided to go through those letters that evening.
What can we learn from this story?
- Don’t jump to conclusions. Bessie thought Troy had cheated on him without giving him a chance to clarify himself.
- What’s meant to be will be. Troy and Bessie were fated to end up together, and that’s what happened in the end.
I Almost Left after Seeing Our Baby – But Then My Wife Revealed a Secret That Changed Everything
When Marcus first sees his newborn baby, his world shatters. Convinced his wife Elena has betrayed him, he’s ready to walk away. But before he can, she reveals a secret that leaves him questioning everything. Is love enough to hold them together?
I was ecstatic the day my wife announced that we were going to be parents. We’d been trying for a while and couldn’t wait to welcome our first child into the world. But one day, as we were discussing the birth plan, Elena dropped a bombshell.
A pregnant woman on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t want you in the delivery room,” she said, her voice soft but firm.
I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. “What? Why not?”
Elena wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I just… I need to do this part on my own. Please understand.”
I didn’t understand, not really. But I loved Elena more than anything, and I trusted her. If this was what she needed, I’d respect it. Still, a tiny seed of unease planted itself in my gut that day.
A frowning man | Source: Midjourney
As Elena’s due date approached, that seed grew. The night before she was scheduled to be induced, I tossed and turned, unable to shake the feeling that something big was about to change.
The next morning, we headed to the hospital. I kissed Elena at the entrance to the maternity ward, watching as they wheeled her away.
Hours ticked by. I paced the waiting room, drank too much bad coffee, and checked my phone every two minutes. Finally, a doctor emerged. One look at his face, and my heart plummeted. Something was wrong.
A doctor | Source: Pexels
“Mr. Johnson?” he said, his voice grave. “You’d better come with me.”
I followed the doctor down the hallway as a thousand horrible scenarios raced through my mind. Was Elena okay? The baby? We reached the delivery room, and the doctor pushed open the door. I rushed in, desperate to see Elena.
She was there, looking exhausted but alive. Relief washed over me for a split second before I noticed the bundle in her arms.
A woman holding her newborn baby | Source: Midjourney
The baby, our baby, had skin as pale as fresh snow, wisps of blonde hair, and when it opened its eyes, they were startlingly blue.
“What the hell is this?” I heard myself say, my voice sounding strange and far away.
Elena looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of love and fear. “Marcus, I can explain—”
An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney
But I wasn’t listening. A red haze of anger and betrayal descended over me. “Explain what? That you cheated on me? That this isn’t my kid?”
“No! Marcus, please—”
I cut her off, my voice rising. “Don’t lie to me, Elena! I’m not an idiot. That is not our baby!”
A grim man | Source: Pexels
Nurses bustled around us, trying to calm the situation, but I was beyond reason. I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. How could she do this to me? To us?
“Marcus!” Elena’s sharp voice cut through my rage. “Look at the baby. Really look.”
Something in her tone made me pause. I glanced down as Elena gently turned the baby, pointing to its right ankle.
A baby’s feet | Source: Pexels
There, clear as day, was a small crescent-shaped birthmark. Identical to the one I’d had since birth, and that other members of my family had, too.
The fight drained out of me in an instant, replaced by utter confusion. “I don’t understand,” I whispered.
Elena took a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you years ago.”
A woman glancing to the side | Source: Midjourney
As the baby quieted, Elena began to explain.
During our engagement, she’d undergone some genetic testing. The results showed she carried a rare recessive gene that could cause a child to have pale skin and light features, regardless of the parents’ appearance.
“I didn’t tell you because the odds were so slim,” she said, her voice trembling. “And I didn’t think it would matter. We loved each other, and that was all that counted.”
A serious woman | Source: Midjourney
I sank into a chair, my head spinning. “But how…?”
“You must carry the gene too,” Elena explained.
“Both parents can carry it without knowing, and then…” She gestured to our baby.
A baby | Source: Pexels
Our little girl was now sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the turmoil around her.
I stared at the child. The birthmark was undeniable proof, but my brain was having trouble catching up.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you,” Elena said, tears streaming down her face. “I was scared, and then as time passed, it seemed less and less important. I never imagined this would actually happen.”
A woman crying | Source: Pexels
I wanted to be angry. Part of me still was. But as I looked at Elena, exhausted and vulnerable, and at our tiny, perfect baby, I felt something else growing stronger. Love. Fierce, protective love.
I stood up and moved to the bed, wrapping my arms around both of them. “We’ll figure this out,” I murmured into Elena’s hair. “Together.”
Little did I know, our challenges were just beginning.
Bringing our baby home should have been a joyous occasion. Instead, it felt like walking into a war zone.
A suburban house | Source: Pexels
My family had been chomping at the bit to meet the newest addition. But when they laid eyes on our pale-skinned, blonde-haired bundle of joy, all hell broke loose.
“What kind of joke is this?” my mother, Denise, demanded, her eyes narrowing as she looked from the baby to Elena.
I stepped in front of my wife, shielding her from the accusatory glares. “It’s not a joke, Mom. This is your grandchild.”
My sister Tanya scoffed. “Come on, Marcus. You can’t seriously expect us to believe that.”
A skeptical woman | Source: Pexels
“It’s true,” I insisted, trying to keep my voice calm. “Elena and I both carry a rare gene. The doctor explained everything.”
But they weren’t listening. My brother Jamal pulled me aside, speaking in a low voice. “Bro, I know you love her, but you gotta face facts. That ain’t your kid.”
I shook him off, anger rising in my chest. “It is my kid, Jamal. Look at the birthmark on the ankle. It’s just like mine.”
A man gesturing to a crib | Source: Midjourney
But no matter how many times I explained, showed them the birthmark, or pleaded for understanding, my family remained skeptical.
Every visit turned into an interrogation, with Elena bearing the brunt of their suspicion.
One night, about a week after we’d brought the baby home, I woke to the sound of the nursery door creaking open. Instantly alert, I crept down the hallway, only to find my mother leaning over the crib.
A baby in a crib | Source: Pexels
“What are you doing?” I hissed, startling her.
Mom jumped back, looking guilty. In her hand was a damp washcloth. With a sickening jolt, I realized she’d been trying to rub off the birthmark, convinced it was fake.
“That’s enough,” I said, my voice shaking with rage. “Get out. Now.”
“Marcus, I was just—”
“Out!” I repeated, louder this time.
A man pointing to the door | Source: Midjourney
As I ushered her towards the front door, Elena appeared in the hallway, looking worried. “What’s going on?”
I explained what had happened, watching as hurt and anger flashed across Elena’s face. She’d been so patient, so understanding in the face of my family’s doubts. But this was a step too far.
“I think it’s time your family left,” Elena said quietly.
I nodded, turning to face my mother. “Mom, I love you, but this has to stop. Either you accept our child or you don’t get to be part of our lives. It’s that simple.”
A man speaking to his mother | Source: Midjourney
Denise’s face hardened. “You’re choosing her over your own family?”
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m choosing Elena and our baby over your prejudice and suspicion.”
As I closed the door behind her, I felt a mixture of relief and sadness. I loved my family, but I couldn’t let their doubts poison our happiness any longer.
Elena and I relaxed on the couch, both emotionally drained. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, pulling her close. “I should have stood up to them sooner.”
A couple relaxing on the sofa | Source: Pexels
She leaned into me, sighing. “It’s not your fault. I understand why they’re having trouble accepting it. I just wish…”
“I know,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “Me too.”
The next few weeks were a blur of sleepless nights, diaper changes, and tense phone calls from family members.
One afternoon, as I was rocking the baby to sleep, Elena approached me with a determined look in her eye.
“I think we should get a DNA test,” she said quietly.
An earnest woman | Source: Midjourney
I felt a pang in my chest. “Elena, we don’t need to prove anything to anyone. I know this is our child.”
She sat down next to me, taking my free hand in hers. “I know you believe that, Marcus. And I love you for it. But your family won’t let this go. Maybe if we have proof, they’ll finally accept us.”
She was right. The constant doubt was eating away at all of us.
“Okay,” I said finally. “Let’s do it.”
A thoughtful man | Source: Pexels
Finally, the day arrived. We sat in the doctor’s office, Elena clutching the baby to her chest, me holding her hand so tightly I was afraid I might be hurting her. The doctor entered with a folder in his hand, his face unreadable.
“Mr. and Mrs. Johnson,” he began, “I have your results here.”
I held my breath, suddenly terrified. What if, by some cosmic joke, the test came back negative? How would I handle that?
A concerned man | Source: Pexels
The doctor opened the folder and smiled. “The DNA test confirms that you, Mr. Johnson, are indeed the father of this child.”
Relief washed over me like a tidal wave. I turned to Elena, who was crying silently, a mix of joy and vindication on her face. I pulled them both into a hug, feeling like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
Armed with the test results, I called a family meeting.
A man staring at his mother | Source: Midjourney
My mother, siblings, and a few aunts and uncles gathered in our living room, eyeing the baby with a mixture of curiosity and lingering doubt.
I stood in front of them, test results in hand. “I know you’ve all had your doubts,” I began, my voice steady. “But it’s time to put them to rest. We’ve had a DNA test done.”
I passed the results around, watching as they read the undeniable truth. Some looked shocked, others embarrassed. My mother’s hands shook as she held the paper.
“I… I don’t understand,” she said weakly. ” All that recessive gene stuff was true?”
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
“Of course it was,” I replied.
One by one, my family members offered their apologies. Some were heartfelt, others awkward, but all seemed genuine. My mother was the last to speak.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, tears in her eyes. “Can you ever forgive me?”
Elena, always more gracious than I could ever be, stood up and hugged her. “Of course we can,” she said softly. “We’re family.”
A woman speaking to her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney
As I watched them embrace, with our baby cooing softly between them, I felt a sense of peace settle over me. Our little family might not look like what everyone expected, but it was ours. And in the end, that was all that mattered.
Here’s another story: I was driving home when I saw a little girl on a school bus, banging on the back window in terror. My world stopped. Something was terribly wrong. But what danger could a little child possibly be in on a seemingly safe school bus? I chased the bus to find out, only for my heart to skip a beat.
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.
Leave a Reply