The worn leather of the suitcase felt rough against my trembling hands. Forty years. Forty years of regret, of guilt gnawing at my soul. Forty years since I had last seen Elizabeth, the love of my life. Forty years since my own stupidity had torn us apart.
I glanced at the address scribbled on a crumpled piece of paper, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. 123 Maple Street, Willow Creek, Ohio. It felt like a destination in a dream, a place I had only ever dared to imagine.
The plane ride was a blur. My mind raced, a whirlwind of memories and “what ifs.” What would she look like now? Would she still have that mischievous glint in her eyes, that infectious laugh that used to fill our small apartment? Would she recognize me, this old man, weathered by time and regret?
As the plane began its descent, a wave of dizziness washed over me. I gripped the armrests, my knuckles white. My chest felt tight, a burning sensation spreading through my lungs. Voices, muffled and distant, seemed to come from far away.
“Sir, are you alright?”
I tried to respond, but only a strangled gasp escaped my lips. The world tilted, then plunged into darkness.
When I awoke, I was in a sterile white room, the smell of antiseptic filling my nostrils. A blurry image of concerned faces swam into view – a nurse, a doctor, a young woman with kind eyes.
“Where… where am I?” I croaked, my voice weak and raspy.
“You’re at St. Jude’s Hospital, sir,” the young woman said gently. “You suffered a heart attack. You’re lucky to be alive.”
Heart attack. The words echoed in my mind, a stark reminder of my mortality. But a different thought, more urgent, pushed its way to the forefront. Elizabeth.
“Elizabeth,” I rasped, my voice hoarse. “Is she… is she here?”
The young woman hesitated, her eyes filled with a mixture of concern and uncertainty. “I… I don’t know, sir. Who is Elizabeth?”
My heart sank. Had I imagined it? Had the years of loneliness and regret twisted my mind, creating a fantasy, a desperate hope?
Days turned into weeks. I spent my recovery in the hospital, haunted by the uncertainty. The doctors assured me that I was stable, but the fear of losing consciousness again, of never seeing Elizabeth, lingered.
One afternoon, as I sat by the window, watching the world go by, a familiar figure appeared in the doorway. A woman, her hair streaked with silver, her eyes crinkled at the corners. She was more beautiful than I remembered, her face etched with the lines of time, yet her smile was the same, the same smile that had captivated me all those years ago.
“Arthur,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Tears welled up in my eyes. It was her. Elizabeth.
She rushed towards me, her arms open wide. I held her close, burying my face in her hair, inhaling the scent of lavender, a scent that transported me back to a time of youthful dreams and endless possibilities.
“I never stopped loving you, Arthur,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I never stopped waiting.”
And in that moment, I knew that despite the years that had passed, despite the pain and the regret, love, true love, had a way of finding its way back home.
As we held each other, the world seemed to melt away. The years of separation, the loneliness, the fear – all of it seemed insignificant compared to the joy of holding her in my arms once more. We had lost so much time, but we still had now. And that, I realized, was all that truly mattered. The worn leather of my suitcase felt rough against my trembling hands. Forty years. Forty years of longing, of regret, of a life lived in a perpetual twilight. Forty years since I had last seen Elizabeth, the love of my life, the woman whose laughter still echoed in the empty chambers of my heart.
I remembered the day vividly. The rain was coming down in sheets, mirroring the storm brewing inside me. We were arguing, a petty disagreement blown out of proportion by youthful pride and stubbornness. I had stormed out, my words echoing in the rain-slicked street. “Fine,” I had spat, “I don’t need you!”
I hadn’t meant it. Not really. But the words hung heavy in the air, a cruel echo of my own anger. I walked for hours, the rain washing away my pride and replacing it with a growing dread. When I finally returned, the lights in our small apartment were off. I called her name, my voice cracking with fear, but there was no answer.
The police found her car abandoned by the river, a chilling testament to the storm that had raged within me. The search parties, the endless waiting, the gnawing uncertainty – it had aged me beyond my years. The vibrant hues of life had faded, replaced by a monotonous grey.
Then, a miracle. A letter, tucked amongst a pile of bills and advertisements, a faded envelope bearing a familiar handwriting. “I’ve been thinking of you,” it read.
The words, simple yet profound, ignited a fire within me. Hope, a fragile ember that had long since been extinguished, flickered back to life. I devoured every letter, each one a precious piece of her, a glimpse into the life she had built. I learned about her children, her grandchildren, her passions, her joys, and her sorrows. And with each letter, the ache in my heart lessened, replaced by a yearning so intense it almost consumed me.
Then, the invitation. “Come,” it read, “Come see me.”
She had included her address.
And so, here I was, 78 years old, sitting on a plane, my hands trembling, my heart pounding like a drum against my ribs. I hadn’t flown in decades. The world outside the window, a blur of clouds and sky, mirrored the chaos within me.
Suddenly, a sharp pain erupted in my chest. I gasped for air, my vision blurring. Voices, distant and muffled, filled my ears. “Sir, are you alright?” “We need to get him some air!”
Panic clawed at my throat. Not now. Not when I was finally this close.
Then, through the haze, I saw her face. Her eyes, the same shade of hazel as mine, wide with concern.
“John?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
And in that moment, time seemed to stand still. The pain, the fear, the decades of longing – they all faded away. All that remained was her. Elizabeth.
Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring her face. But I knew. I knew it was her.
And as I slipped into unconsciousness, I whispered her name, a silent prayer, a love song carried on the wind.
I woke up in a hospital room, the scent of antiseptic filling my nostrils. Elizabeth sat beside me, her hand gently clasped in mine.
“You gave me quite a scare,” she said, her voice soft as a summer breeze.
I managed a weak smile. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
And as I looked at her, at the lines etched on her face, the silver strands in her hair, I knew that this was just the beginning. We had forty years to catch up on, to rediscover the love we had lost. Forty years to make up for the time we had wasted.
And as I held her hand, I knew that this time, nothing would ever tear us apart again.
Bus Driver Insults Breastfeeding Mom Unaware Her Husband Would Get in at Next Stop – Story of the Day
A bus driver mocks a breastfeeding mom on his bus and is surprised to see her being greeted by his son at the next stop. Moreover, the son is unexpectedly in a wheelchair.
Keith was behind the wheel, ferrying passengers across the city, when a young lady with a baby boarded the bus. Keith’s lips curled into a sly smirk.
Babies were too unpredictable and could start bawling at any moment. So nothing was worse to Keith than putting up with the baby’s loud cries during rush hour.
As the lady occupied a vacant seat with her toddler, Keith grumbled. “That should stop the child from whining,” he frowned…
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When a stop light arrived, and Keith turned around to check how many people were aboard, he saw the lady breastfeeding her baby. His anger flared, and his cheeks turned crimson red. “Hey, Lady! You can’t do that here!” he yelled.
“Why, of course, I can! I’m nursing my baby,” the mother responded.
Keith looked around at the others and was unsettled. The traffic light turned green, and he started driving, expressing his disapproval of the woman feeding her child.
“Disgusting! Kids think they’re entitled to everything and just display their breasts in front of complete strangers,” Keith mumbled loudly.
Keith’s murmurs intensified as the woman adjusted to cover up her chest. “Youngsters lack respect for others. Since when did breastfeeding in public become the norm?”
The lady overheard everything, and Keith’s discomfort persisted, echoing through the bus.
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A few men near Keith joined in taking a dig at the woman. Keith chuckled, and the mocking continued. “Like I said, no decency! Where’s her husband? Why didn’t anyone in her life teach her some self-respect?” he added.
The woman finished feeding her child and prepared to leave. As the bus doors opened, Keith’s gaze shifted to a man in a wheelchair waiting for her, and his jaw dropped.
“DANIEL?” he gasped, recognizing his son, who was now in a wheelchair. It was only the second time he’d ever seen him. Daniel was perfectly alright seven years ago, and Keith couldn’t understand what had happened to him.
His anxiety surged even more when he realized the woman he had insulted for the last half hour was his daughter-in-law. And the baby…his grandson. Keith’s heart cracked again.
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“Are you going to drive, old man?” a youngster in the back yelled, snapping Keith out of his reverie.
Keith turned around, trying his best to get his job done. But it wasn’t easy, especially when the vision of his life 22 years ago came flashing back into his mind…
“Honey, I’m home,” Keith gleefully cried out to his girlfriend, Sarah. “Ummm! That tastes delicious!” he exclaimed, gobbling a spoonful of pasta.
“I can’t do it, Keith,” she rose. “I want to have this baby.”
“I thought we agreed. You know we’re not ready for a baby yet,” he sighed.
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“I’m already 15 weeks along,” Sarah brushed her belly. “I want this baby. I love him. I…I’m sorry…I can’t.”
Keith was worried now. He tried to explain to Sarah that their one-bedroom flat in the secluded part of town and their minimum wage salaries wouldn’t be enough to raise a baby. But she stood her ground.
“Fine!” Keith eventually agreed. “We’ll figure out something.”
Deep inside, he was haunted by what to do all evening. And that’s when he remembered his best friend, Victor, and left for the pub to meet him.
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“Keith! Where the hell have you been, man?” Victor exclaimed as soon as Keith walked through the door of their favorite bar. They often hung out there, but Keith had refrained from nights out after moving in with Sarah.
“And how’s your girl?” Victor said, downing a drink.
“She’s good, man,” Keith nodded, licking his dry lips. “Is there any job for me…with you? Look, man, I’m ready to do anything. Please…talk to your boss Mr. Abraham. I’m good with cars…”
Keith knew the stakes were high but took up a job pretty soon. Hotwiring a car in less than a minute and stealing parts was a cakewalk for Keith, and soon, money started rolling in.
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Keith and Sarah eventually moved to a new area only a month after he started his new job. They were doing exceptionally well, and one night, when he arrived home, he found Sarah crying on the couch.
“The cops were here, Keith. They asked terrifying questions about you and Victor…and some Mr. Abraham… Why are the cops after you?” she asked.
A lump rose in Keith’s throat. “It’s better if you don’t know,” he said as Sarah’s worst fears were confirmed.
“Jesus! Are you in a gang, Keith? Wha—what if you get arrested? What’s gonna happen to me and our baby if you go down?” She cried.
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“Nothing’s gonna happen,” Keith pressed Sarah’s shoulders. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Really, Keith? You think the cops will spare you?”
Keith’s anger boiled over. “For God’s sake, Sarah! Can’t you see why I’m doing this? I had to bring more money…I’m doing all this for us!”
“Please, stop it,” Sarah cried her heart out, begging Keith to quit his illegal gig and return to the normal, simple life they once lived.
“We need MONEY to live!” he yelled.
“You can make that MONEY by doing something else…NOT THIS!” Sarah shot back as she cried, squinting her eyes. “The baby kicked…Ow!”
Keith calmed down as he cupped her face and looked into her eyes. “Look, babe, I have this huge gig coming up. It could set us up for life. I can’t give up in the middle. I want to give our son everything,” he said.
Sarah’s face contorted. “If you don’t quit this job, you’ll never be able to get out of it. The cops are after you…do you even realize that?”
“Sarah, this is my chance. I don’t want to return to some stupid low-wage job, okay? This is beyond my control. I used to feel low. But now, I have everything they said I could never have.”
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Sarah’s gaze lowered as she clutched her belly tight. “I don’t think this is gonna work out, Keith. You’re not the man I loved,” she sobbed.
“Oh, c’mon! How convenient, Sarah,” Keith lashed out at her expletively. “You enjoyed the money I made…What’s wrong now? Like it or not, I’m not quitting,” he declared, storming out of the room.
It was early morning when Keith returned home from another successful score. “Honey, look…I’m sorry. Things got a bit intense last night…Sarah?” He called out to her over and over.
But still no answer. So Keith hurried to their bedroom, wondering if she was sick or still sleeping, only to find it empty.
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Keith grew anxious as he rang Sarah’s number. But all his calls landed in voicemail. He rummaged through the closet and noticed some of her clothes were gone. All the onesies were missing from the nursery. “Sarah?” Keith panicked and ran around the house, but she was nowhere to be found.
They didn’t have many friends, so Keith thought Victor or the rest of his gang could help find her. Just as Keith frantically pressed the call button on Victor’s number, a loud knock on the front door jolted him.
“Police! Open the door, Mr. Griffith. We know you’re in there,” a cop yelled and banged on the door. “We have an arrest warrant.”
“Argh!” Keith held his head, knowing there was no escape now.
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Keith was arrested and sentenced to 20 years. However, he was released on parole after 15 years owing to good conduct. He didn’t go back to Victor or Mr. Abraham, and all he wanted was to find Sarah and their baby.
Keith tracked down their address and eagerly raced to a suburban area several miles west of their old neighborhood. The beautiful houses and picturesque landscapes pleased his eyes. This was the kind of place he wanted to live with Sarah and their son.
Finally, Keith made it closer to Sarah’s house, and just as he was about to enter the gate, an SUV drove past him. A well-dressed man got down as Keith stood puzzled. “Did I get the address wrong? But the mailbox shows the same number…”
“DAD!” a boy’s voice startled him. Keith looked up, his heart pounding in his chest, and a smile formed on his face.
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Keith’s heart shattered to a million pieces when he saw a teen boy bolting from the front door toward the stranger who had just gotten down from the SUV. And Sarah emerged from the doorway. “Guys, dinner is ready! Hurry!” she chuckled.
“Dad, let’s go,” the boy chirped. “Mom made spaghetti!”
“You’re right, Daniel! Let’s hurry!” Keith watched as the man wrapped his hand around the boy’s shoulder, and they walked inside the house. It could mean only one thing—he was the boy’s stepfather who had taken Keith’s rightful place in Sarah’s and their son’s lives.
Heartbroken, Keith decided to turn around and leave. But he wanted to see how happy they were together. He secretly peeked through the window and saw the teen and his stepdad cheering for a baseball game on TV. Sarah was sitting beside them and looked as beautiful as ever.
As the street lights turned on, Keith gathered his bits and pieces and walked away.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
A blaring horn in the distance snapped Keith to reality as tears rolled down his cheeks. He finished his last route for the night, and the thought of seeing Daniel in a wheelchair broke his heart again. “What happened to my boy? He was fine when I saw him seven years ago…” Keith wondered.
A few days later, he drove to the same address he last saw Sarah and Daniel to find out. He pulled over outside a neighboring house and waited nervously until a knock on his side window startled him.
“Hey, who are you? Why’s your car parked outside my compound? If you don’t leave, I’ll call the cops,” an older lady barked at him.
Keith stepped down from his car with a start. “No, please, ma’am. I just wanted to go there…”
“Go where?” she raised her hands and growled.
“Over there…to that house. I want to meet Sarah and Daniel. I haven’t seen her in years,” Keith clarified.
“Oh, dear,” the older lady’s voice softened. “Don’t you know what happened?”
“Yeah?” Keith’s forehead wrinkled with unease.
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“Sarah and her husband died last year,” the older woman revealed. “Their son Daniel lives with his wife and baby there.”
“WHAT? NO!” Keith’s eyes bulged with shock.
“Car accident. Daniel luckily survived because he was in the backseat. But he can’t walk,” the lady added. “It’s so sad. I saw that boy grow up. They were such a lovely family. And his baby…he won’t ever see his grandparents.”
Keith thanked the woman and regretfully walked past her, heading straight to the front door. He knew it was time to step up and face his son, no matter what. Keith adjusted his voice and sighed deeply before knocking on the door. It creaked open moments later, and Daniel rolled his wheelchair closer.
“Yes?” He looked up at Keith.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels
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A spoiled rich teen thought he could get away with insulting a flight attendant. However, his dad, who was watching everything from behind, decides to teach his arrogant kid an unforgettable lesson.
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