Woman Ignores Letters from Man She Left 53 Years Ago, Visits Him Once and Finds a Ruined House — Story of the Day

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

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

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

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

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

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.

For Months, I Kept Receiving Gifts From a Secret Admirer, but the Truth I Discovered on Valentine’s Day Shocked Me — Story of the Day

I never cared for romance. It always seemed like a fantasy, something that belonged in movies, not real life. But then the gifts started arriving—flowers, chocolates, even books I had wanted. No name, no clues. Just a secret admirer who knew too much. Someone was watching. But who? And why?

To be honest, I was never the romantic type. It had always been that way. Ever since my teenage years, I never understood why everyone was so obsessed with romantic comedies.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The grand gestures, the dramatic confessions, the over-the-top happy endings—it all felt staged, unrealistic.

Love didn’t work like that in real life. At least, that’s what I believed. Yet, someone decided to prove me wrong.

One day, I arrived at work, juggling my coffee and bag, only to freeze at my desk.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

A massive bouquet of flowers sat there, bright and overwhelming. A note was attached.

My heart pounded as I unfolded it, hoping for a name. But all it said was, “Your smile brightens my days.”

“Did anyone see who brought this bouquet?” I asked, holding up the note.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Robert looked up from his computer. “No. I was the first one here. It was already on your desk when I arrived.” His usual warm smile made me trust him.

Robert was my favorite coworker. He was kind, thoughtful, and always had my back.

“Wow,” Brian said from across the room. “Someone actually noticed you exist.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I rolled my eyes. Brian was my least favorite coworker. Brian never missed a chance to annoy me.

Since my first day at the office, he had made it his mission to get on my nerves.

“Do you have to be like that?” Robert asked, shaking his head. “Jealous the bouquet isn’t for you?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Brian smirked. “Oh, look at our knight in shining armor.” He walked off before I could reply.

“Thanks,” I said to Robert.

“Always happy to help,” he said, winking.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I smiled, pushed the flowers aside, and turned on my computer. Work had to come first.

The thing was, Robert, Brian, and I were each working on a project for the company, but only one of us would receive funding.

Winning meant recognition, respect, and career growth. Losing meant months of effort wasted. I figured that was why Brian had been even more unbearable lately.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He thrived on competition and loved getting under my skin. This was a battle, and in battles, anything was fair game.

I couldn’t let him—or even Robert—win. I was one of the only women in the company, and I had worked hard to get here.

If my project got funded, it would prove I belonged, that I was just as good—no, better—than the men.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

But then, there were the gifts. The gifts from my secret admirer didn’t stop—they kept arriving almost daily.

At first, I didn’t mind. A bouquet one day, chocolates the next. Then, candy and books—ones I had wanted but never mentioned aloud, at least not that I remembered.

That’s when it stopped feeling sweet and started feeling… unsettling. I wasn’t the kind of person to daydream about romance.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t swoon over mystery admirers. I analyzed, questioned, doubted. How did this person know so much about me?

Someone was watching. Someone knew my habits, my preferences. I wasn’t flattered. I was scared.

“You must be happy to have a secret admirer,” Robert said one day, leaning back in his chair.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Honestly, it freaks me out,” I admitted.

Robert raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come on. It’s sweet.”

I shook my head. “Not so sure about that.”

Brian, who had been eavesdropping, smirked. “Right. It’s probably some psycho who’s going to be waiting outside the office one day to get rid of you.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I grabbed a pencil and threw it at him. “Only a sick idiot like you would do that.”

Brian dodged it easily. “Touched a nerve?”

I turned back to my work, pushing away the anxious thoughts. My head was already spinning from this project.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I just wanted to get it over with. The presentation wasn’t until February 14th. Ironic, wasn’t it?

Brian wasn’t done. He strolled over and glanced at my computer screen. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

I turned the monitor away from him. “Stop snooping. You probably just want to steal my idea.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“My idea is way better,” Brian said, crossing his arms.

“Sure,” I said, dripping with sarcasm.

Brian rolled his eyes and walked away.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I sighed and reached for my paper cup, but it was empty. “I really need to buy a water bottle. I’m tired of constantly running to the cooler,” I muttered to myself.

The next morning, when I arrived at work, a sleek new water bottle sat on my desk.

A note was attached. “So you don’t have to keep running to the cooler.” I froze.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

What the…?

Someone had overheard me. Someone from this office.

“Want to grab lunch together?” Robert asked, appearing beside me.

“Yeah, sure,” I said, distracted.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Nice bottle,” he said, pointing at it.

“Yeah,” I murmured, picking it up.

“You don’t seem too happy about it. Didn’t you want one?” Robert asked, watching me closely.

I nodded, but my mind kept racing. Something didn’t feel right. Then, it clicked. It was Robert. Robert was my secret admirer.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He sat next to me every day, close enough to hear my offhand comments. He knew my favorite things.

He had always been kind, always supportive. Who else could it be? It made perfect sense.

I wanted to ask him about it, to confirm my theory. But the presentation was too important.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t let myself get distracted now. My focus had to stay on my project.

On February 14th, we finally presented. The conference room was packed, tension filling the air.

As the discussion began, I listened carefully. Robert’s project came up first.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Then Brian’s. Executives asked questions, debated ideas. But no one mentioned mine. Not once.

“You’ve talked a lot about Robert’s and my projects, but you haven’t said anything about Leslie’s,” Brian suddenly said, his voice steady.

“You think it’s worth discussing?” our boss, Paul, asked, barely glancing at my report.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Ouch. That stung.

Brian sat up straighter. “I think it’s the most deserving of the three. It’s obvious Leslie’s project is the best.”

I had to stop my jaw from dropping. Brian, of all people, was defending me?

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t think so,” Robert cut in. “I still believe mine is the best, or at the very least, Brian’s. Men are better architects than women.”

I felt like I had been slapped. Robert, who I had thought was supportive, had said that?

One of the executives finally looked at my project. He flipped through the pages, nodding slowly. “Actually, I think Brian is right. Leslie’s project is the strongest.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

A heated debate followed. People argued back and forth, numbers and strategies thrown around. I held my breath, waiting for the final decision.

Nearly an hour later, we walked out of the conference room.

I had won.

My project had been chosen. Relief and pride flooded through me. I knew I had earned it.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Thanks for speaking up for me,” I told Brian as we walked down the hallway.

He shrugged, hands in his pockets, then kept walking.

I shook my head and turned to Robert. My excitement was quickly fading. “You were acting weird during the presentation. Especially considering how you feel about me.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Robert frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I know you like me. You’re my secret admirer,” I said, crossing my arms.

Robert blinked. “What? Where did you get that idea?”

“Everything fits. Plus, you’re always nice to me,” I said.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Robert sighed. “I’m just polite. I have a girlfriend.”

“Oh…” My stomach dropped.

“Yeah. And I still think my project should have won,” he added.

I shook my head. “Learn to accept defeat,” I said and walked away.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

If it wasn’t Robert, then who was it?

Now, my secret admirer scared me even more. What if he had some kind of listening device at my desk? How else did he know everything?

That evening, as I left the office, unease settled in my stomach. Brian’s words kept replaying in my head—that one day, my admirer would be waiting outside.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

When I stepped out and saw a figure standing by the door, my heart stopped. I panicked and screamed.

“Oh my God, Brian! You scared me!” I yelled, my pulse racing.

“Sorry,” he said, shifting on his feet.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What are you doing here?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Waiting outside the office to get rid of you,” he said, his tone unreadable.

“What…?” My confusion deepened.

Brian sighed. “Remember when we talked about your secret admirer, and I said that one day he’d be waiting for you outside?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I interrupted him. “Yeah, but what does that—” I froze. My mind pieced it together. “Wait… it’s you?”

Brian nodded.

Only then did I notice the large bouquet in his hands. Tulips. My favorite.

“But why all of this?” I asked, staring at the flowers.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I figured you needed to see a different side of me. Not just the Brian who teases you,” he said, shifting awkwardly.

“You could have just stopped acting like a jerk instead of scaring me half to death,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

“Yeah… it didn’t go exactly as I planned,” Brian admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“So… you like me?” I asked.

Brian covered his face with his hand. “I’m not good at talking about this,” he muttered.

“I’ve noticed,” I said, smirking.

“…Yeah. I do,” he finally said, avoiding eye contact.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I smiled.

“Well, happy Valentine’s Day,” Brian said, turning to walk away.

“Hey, that’s it?” I called after him. “No invitation to dinner?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Brian hesitated. “You’d actually want that?”

I walked up to him and took his arm. “Well, I do need to get to know this other Brian,” I said.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: I was living my ordinary life until one of my students gave me a Valentine. It looked familiar, and when I unfolded it, my heart stopped. It was the card I had written years ago for someone I once loved. I had to know how it ended up in his hands—even if it changed everything.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

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