For years, I drove two hours every Friday to visit a small suburban café, leaving unusually large tips for one particular waitress. What she didn’t know was that I carried a life-changing secret in my purse. I just wished I could find the courage to share it.
The Friday evening traffic crawled along the interstate as I made my way out of downtown. My colleagues at the law firm thought I was crazy to drive two hours just for dinner at some suburban café, but they didn’t understand. I didn’t go for the coffee or the sandwiches. I went to see her.
Woman in her 30s driving on a rainy road | Source: Midjourney
The café sat on a quiet corner, its red-brick exterior softened by white trim. It also had a white awning and window boxes full of purple petunias. The bell above the door chimed as I pushed it open, and the familiar scent of coffee and fresh-baked pie made me feel at home.
She looked up when I walked in—the waitress with kind eyes and silver-streaked hair. Her name tag read “Martha,” but I’d known that long before I ever set foot in this place.
Woman in her 50s wearing a waitress uniform in a café with a kind smile | Source: Midjourney
Every time I saw her, I thought about what I held in my purse. And yet, I never knew if I would be brave enough to show it to her that day.
“Welcome back, hon,” she said, already reaching for the coffee pot. “Your usual spot?”
I nodded, sliding into my regular booth by the window. The vinyl seats squeaked beneath me, and the tabletop showed years of wear under its polished surface.
Woman in her 30s sitting in the booth of a café looking expectant | Source: Midjourney
Martha set down a mug of black coffee and pulled out her order pad, though we both knew what I wanted. “Apple pie and an espresso?” she asked, her pen hovering over the paper.
“Yes, please.”
Her smile carried a warmth that made my chest ache. Did she ever wonder about me? Did she even remember me?
The truth sat heavy in my purse, wrapped in a manila envelope that was starting to show wear from months of being carried back and forth. Inside were the documents from the adoption agency, the ones that had turned my world upside down just a few months ago.
Woman in her 30s sitting in the booth of a café holding a purse and looking worried | Source: Midjourney
I still remember the day I finally confronted my adoptive parents about my past. Mother had been arranging flowers in their living room, each stem placed with surgical precision.
“We gave you everything,” she’d said, not bothering to look up from her roses. “The best schools, the finest opportunities. Why isn’t that enough?”
“Because it’s not about things, Mother. It’s about knowing who I am.”
Woman in her 30s looking upset while her mother stands in the background with her arms crossed in an expensive foyer | Source: Midjourney
“You’re one of us,” Father had interjected from behind his iPad. “That’s who you are. But if you insist on pursuing this… project, contact the agency yourself. We won’t stand in your way.”
His tone made it clear they wouldn’t help, either. After 38 years, I should have expected nothing less. My adoptive family had always treated emotions like unwelcome houseguests.
Luckily, I didn’t have trouble contacting the agency, and their response arrived faster than I’d expected. As I read through the documents in my condo, pieces of my past clicked into place.
Woman in her 30s sitting on a couch in the living room of a condo reading documents and looking surprised | Source: Midjourney
My birth mother had died bringing me into the world. My birth father had been too overwhelmed by grief and responsibility, so he had walked away. And then there was Martha—my foster mother for two precious years.
She was the one spot of warmth I remembered from my entire childhood. Unfortunately, her husband’s cancer diagnosis forced them to make an impossible choice.
Martha returned with my pie, setting it down with the same care she always showed. “Anything else you need, sweetie?”
Woman in her 50s wearing a waitress uniform in a café smiling and holding a notepad | Source: Midjourney
I opened my mouth, willing the words to come. The envelope pressed against my ribs through my purse. Just tell her, I thought. Just reach in, pull it out, and tell her.
Instead, I shook my head and smiled weakly. “No, thank you.”
She lingered a moment longer than usual, and I wondered if she sensed something. Did she see how my hands shook slightly as I picked up my fork?
Woman in her 50s wearing a waitress uniform in a café frowning and lingering by a booth | Source: Midjourney
If she did, she said nothing and went to another table while I started eating my pie. When I finished, I left my usual $50 tip on the table. It was excessive for coffee and pie, but how do you put a price on lost time?
Maybe I also left so much because I felt guilty for not being brave enough to tell her who I was today, either. Why was it that I could face the most intimidating lawyers in court without sweating, but this part of my past had me acting like a little girl?
I was disappointed in myself, so I stood. Next Friday, I’ll do it for sure, I promised.
Woman in her 30s with a brown leather purse looking disappointed standing by a booth in a café | Source: Midjourney
Rain had started to fall heavily outside. I fumbled with my umbrella, almost dropping my keys on my way to my car.
“Hey, you!”
I froze, my keys hovering near the car door lock.
“Why are you doing this?!”
I turned to see Martha standing a few feet away, still in her work apron. She held up the money I’d given her.
Woman in her 50s wearing a waitress uniform holding money in one hand and looking concerned outside a red-bricked café | Source: Midjourney
“Every week, you come in,” she continued, taking a step closer. “You sit quietly, leave these large tips, and disappear. Why?”
My heart pounded so hard I thought it might break through my ribs. This was the moment I’d both longed for and dreaded. Yet, I knew I had to take this chance.
“I… I have something for you.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears as I reached into my purse with trembling fingers.
The envelope was slightly bent at the corners now.
Woman’s hand handing over an envelope in a rainy parking lot | Source: Midjourney
“Could you please read this?” I asked, holding it out. “When you have a moment?”
Martha took it slowly, confusion drawing her brows together. “What is this about?”
“It’s about me,” I whispered. “About us.”
She opened it right there, heedless of the rain. I watched her face as she read and saw the moment recognition dawned. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she stumbled backward.
Woman in her 50s wearing a waitress uniform holding a manila envelope and looking shocked while standing outside a red-bricked café in the rain | Source: Midjourney
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Sarah? My little Sarah?”
I nodded, tears spilling down my cheeks. “Yeah…”
We just looked at one another for an infinite moment.
“Oh, sweetie. I see from these documents that you must have figured out what happened. But you have to understand that John… my husband, your foster father… he got so sick,” she said finally. “The bills kept piling up. This couple came along. They were so wealthy. They could give you everything we couldn’t.”
“I understand perfectly,” I said softly, and I did. I knew they did what they thought was best for me. She didn’t need to explain herself. “What happened to John?”
Woman in her 30s talking to a woman in her 50s in a rainy parking lot outside a red-bricked café | Source: Midjourney
“Cancer took him three years after you were adopted…” She swallowed hard. “He loved you so much, Sarah. We both did. Every day since we let you go, I’ve wondered if we made the right choice.”
“I have… fragments of memories,” I admitted. “Someone reading ‘Goodnight Moon.’ The smell of cookies baking. A man’s laugh. Me calling you Momma. I always told myself I was making it up.”
Martha nodded through her tears. “You wouldn’t go to sleep without that book,” she smiled. “And John would spend hours in the kitchen with you, letting you ‘help’ make cookies. You were only two, but you were so determined to do everything yourself. As soon as you could speak, you called us Momma and Papa.”
Little girl standing on a stool helping make cookies | Source: Midjourney
The rain came down harder, soaking us even more. Eager to hear more, we ran and waited below the awning in front of the café.
Martha told me about my early days, about the love that had filled their modest home. I shared stories about growing up with my adoptive parents. I was financially secure, yes, but emotionally… that was a different story.
“I contacted the agency a few months ago and started coming here,” I confessed after telling her about my current life and career. “Every time I tried to tell you, I lost my nerve.”
Woman in her 30s talking to a woman in her 50s beneath the awning of a red-bricked café | Source: Midjourney
“So you left those tips instead?” Martha’s eyes crinkled with understanding.
“It was the only way I knew how to reach out.”
Suddenly, we heard a sharp tap on the window. It was Martha’s manager, beckoning her inside. “I have to go back to work,” she told me, her eyebrows pulling down apologetically. “Will you come next Friday?”
“Actually… could we maybe do breakfast instead? Tomorrow?”
“Oh, honey,” Martha said, wrapping me into the best hug I’d ever gotten. “I would love nothing more.” When we separated, she pulled out her phone. “Here, write down my number.”
Woman in her 30s hugging a woman in her 50s, smiling and emotional, beneath the awning of a red-bricked café | Source: Midjourney
“Thank you,” I said, after putting my phone back in my pocket. “Bye, Momma.”
Martha’s hand flew to her mouth at my words. “Bye, sweetie. See you soon.”
The rain stopped as I drove back to the city, and stars peeked through breaks in the clouds.
I couldn’t wait to see her again.
Don’t get me wrong. I knew my life, despite its beginning, had been privileged; my adoptive parents had provided everything they could, paving the way for all my success. For that, I will always be grateful.
But sometimes, pure warmth and love are all a person needs. I had experienced that with Momma and Papa, and now, at least, I had her back in my life.
Woman in her 30s driving on a dark rainy road smiling brightly | Source: Midjourney
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.
Inside the love story of Hasnat Khan and Princess Diana
Princess Diana was known for her heartfelt visits to hospitals, where she brought joy and hope to those in need.
However, one visit turned into something far more — a passionate love affair that remained shrouded in secrecy for years.
It’s 1995 – just two months prior to the infamous Panorama interview that would forever alter Diana’s life. You might remember that interview, when Princess Diana came clean about her struggles with mental health and the trials of her marriage, capturing the world’s empathy.
Two months before that interview, Diana crossed paths with a handsome doctor, a Muslim whose dark good looks were compared to the charming actor Omar Sharif.
The dashing heart surgeon, Dr. Hasnat Khan, worked at the Royal Brompton Hospital in London. But how did this unlikely pair end up together?
Well, that’s because Joe Toffolo, the patient who underwent surgery, was married to Oonagh Shanley-Toffolo, an Irish nun and acupuncturist who was a close confidante of Princess Diana.
After the initial visit, Diana returned to the hospital almost daily for three weeks, eager to pursue the handsome surgeon. The connection was electric.
Smoked cigarettes and loved KFC
Today, when we look back at countless photos of Diana visiting the hospital, it’s officially stated that she went to cheer up sick children or raise awareness for cystic fibrosis.
That’s definitely true. However, she also had personal reasons. Beneath the surface, her motivations were deeply personal. Because at 35, Diana had discovered a reason to smile once more.
(Photo by Stan Karczmarz/Sygma via Getty Images)
When Diana and Khan started seeing each other, it marked Diana’s most serious involvement since her separation from Prince Charles three years earlier.
But it came shrouded in secrecy. Few knew about their budding romance, a bond that seemed improbable at first glance. Dr. Khan, then 37, was a heart surgeon
that was running fat and smoked a pack of cigarettes a day,
He had penchant for late-night jazz clubs and Kentucky Fried Chicken — an unconventional match for the Princess of Wales.
But this didn’t stop Diana.
”He’s drop-dead gorgeous,” Diana reportedly told Oonagh Toffolo.
Secret messages
To keep their love under wraps, Diana cleverly disguised her messages for Khan, using the alias ”Dr. Armani.” They met in secret, often in unconventional spots to avoid prying eyes.
On one occasion, Diana donned a black wig to sneak into Ronnie Scott’s, a famous jazz club in Soho. In another instance, Khan hid in the boot of a car to slip into Kensington Palace, aided by Diana’s loyal butler, Paul Burrell.
Their romance flourished even during casual outings.
One day, when Diana was feeling low, Khan whisked her away to a pub near Harefield Hospital where he had worked. The name? The Prince of Wales.
”She thought it was hilarious,” he recalled with a chuckle.
Diana was so enamored that she even asked her butler to find a priest who could marry them, despite Khan’s Muslim faith. Their love deepened as they spent time together, sharing laughter and discovering each other’s worlds.
Diana reportedly read books on Islam and cherished a photograph of “my dishy doctor.” She even visited Khan’s family in Lahore, Pakistan, where she embraced their culture and enjoyed a delightful afternoon tea.
Met William and Harry
This whirlwind romance took a more serious turn when Diana introduced Khan to her sons, William and Harry.
She described him as “Mr. Wonderful” and, according to her butler Burrell, she referred to Khan as her soulmate. Friends of Diana stated that he was ”the love of her life” and that she expressed distress when their relationship ended.
Yet, as love stories often go, their fairytale faced obstacles.
The mounting pressure from the media began to take a toll on their relationship. While Diana was accustomed to the limelight, for Khan, the intense scrutiny was daunting.
He feared that pursuing their relationship publicly could jeopardize his career.
They discussed possible solutions, including moving to Pakistan — a plan that nearly came to fruition. Talks of relocating to Australia or South Africa were also on the table, but nothing materialized. According to The Guardian, Diana’s desire for public acknowledgment clashed with Khan’s reluctance, leading to a heartbreaking conclusion: the romance ended in July 1997.
Khan finds out about Dodi
Just a month later, tragedy struck. In the early hours of August 31, 1997, Diana died in a car crash in Paris, alongside her partner Dodi Fayed and their driver, Henri Paul.
Khan was blindsided by the news of Diana’s relationship with Dodi, discovering it only after it became public. ”When I found out, I was really mad; mad as hell,” he confessed in a 2012 interview.
Khan attended her funeral at Westminster Abbey.
The shadow of her tragic death looms over him still. “Sometimes I feel like screaming,” Khan shared, reflecting on the emotional turmoil. “There have been very bad times. I have moved on, but it keeps coming back.”
Despite the heartbreak, Khan fondly remembers Diana: ”We all have our drawbacks, but I found her a very normal person with great qualities and some personal drawbacks, like bad habits.”
Hasnat Khan today
In 2006, Khan married Hadia Sher Ali, a 28-year-old woman descended from Afghan royalty, but the couple divorced two years later.
He now lives in the UK, continuing his work as a heart surgeon and engaging in humanitarian efforts in Pakistan and Saudi Arabia.
Reflecting on his life, Khan shared: ”It is very good to be home. I am quite relieved to be home. My blood pressure is stable—I go fishing, I go for walks. It feels like a sanctuary. It’s very peaceful.”
Though the romance between Princess Diana and Dr. Hasnat Khan was short-lived, it remains an interesting chapter in her life, a testament to the complexity of love in the face of royal duty and public scrutiny.
As we remember the Princess, we celebrate not just her legacy, but also the love she shared with a man who saw her for who she truly was—a normal person with extraordinary qualities.
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