I was living an ordinary life until one of my students gave me a Valentine’s Day card. It looked familiar, and when I unfolded it, my heart sank. It was the card I’d written years ago for someone I loved. I had to know how it ended up in their hands, even though it changed everything.
Everyone thinks that being an elementary school teacher is the easiest job, but that’s not the case at all.
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I wonder, college professors, if you’ve ever had to remove drool from a hair while the culprit snickered in the corner? Have you ever tried to remove permanent marker from a wall?
Or rushed a carpet to the dry cleaners because a student couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time? I don’t think that was the case. For me, it was part of the job.
Yet I loved my job. The children had a way of making even the most exhausting days feel rewarding.
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But sometimes, I swear, I taught tiny tornadoes disguised as children.
Chaos followed them everywhere. However, there were students like Mark.
Mark was different. He was the kind of child people called a true angel . He was quiet but not shy, polite but not rigid, always kind.
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And, to my surprise, he often brought me little gifts—a drawing, a flower he had found, and even a neatly folded napkin that he thought looked like a swan.
He had only been in my class for a month and I could see he was still adjusting.
Many kids hadn’t fully accepted him yet, and I found myself intervening when they left him out. But Mark never seemed upset.
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“I just feel sorry for them,” he once told me. “They don’t know how to be nice.” You see? A real angel.
During breaks, he would come over to talk. He told me that his family had moved a lot—to different cities, different countries.
His father was a journalist, and now, finally, they were staying here. I often wondered who had raised such a wonderful child.
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But since his nanny always came to pick him up, I never had the chance to find out.
On Valentine’s Day, Mark approached my office.
His small hands were clutching something behind his back. He looked up at me, then down.
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“I wanted to give you a Valentine’s Day card,” he said. His voice was soft.
“For me?” I asked.
He nodded. “You’re an excellent teacher.”
“That’s very kind of you, Mark. Thank you.”
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He gave a quick nod, then turned as if to leave.
“Wait,” I said. “Where’s the Valentine’s Day card?”
Mark’s eyes widened. “Oh!” He pulled a small card from behind his back and placed it on my desk, almost dropping it in the process.
I picked it up. Something about it seemed familiar. I unfolded it.
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“To the funniest, smartest boy I know. Don’t you dare forget me. Yours, Annie.”
I gasped. My hands tightened on the paper. I knew this handwriting. My handwriting.
“Mark, where did you find this?”
“In my father’s things,” he said. “It even has your name on it. Do you like it?”
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I swallowed hard. “Yes, Mark. I love him.”
He hugged me, then ran off, leaving me frozen. Had he really kept it after all these years?
Memories flooded me, taking me back to a time I thought I’d left behind. Jason.
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My first love. My one true love. Even now, saying that seemed ridiculous, like something out of an old romance novel. But it was true.
We had spent high school dreaming together, mapping out a future that seemed certain to us.
College, careers, a life side by side. Nothing could touch us. Nothing could break us.
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Until the day Jason walked into the school hallway feeling like his whole world had shattered.
“We’re moving to Europe,” he said, his voice cracking. “My dad got a job offer there.”
He didn’t even try to hold back his tears. He collapsed in my arms, his body shaking.
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I squeezed it as hard as I could, trying to breathe through the lump in my throat.
“Jason, no,” I whispered, even though I already knew there was nothing I could do.
Our last day together was Valentine’s Day. I gave him that card, the one Mark had handed me. I watched him read it, his eyes glazed over.
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“Even if I wanted to, I could never forget you,” he said. Then he pulled me into his arms, holding me as if he could stop time. But time didn’t stop. Jason was gone.
Our love didn’t have a happy ending. Over time, we lost touch, and as far as I know, he never returned to our town. At least, that’s what I thought until Mark brought me this Valentine’s Day card.
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I needed answers. I opened Mark’s file, my heart pounding. His father’s name: Jason. It was no coincidence.
As soon as class ended, I went to the address. Standing in front of the door, my hands were shaking.
Pull yourself together, Annie. Don’t be a coward. I took a deep breath and rang the bell.
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The door opened and a woman stood before me. She was stunning—tall, graceful, and perfectly formed.
“Can I help you?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.
I swallow and force a smile. “I’d like to talk to Jason.”
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She raised an eyebrow. “He’s not here. What’s this about?”
I hesitated. “Are you Mark’s new nanny? I’d really like to talk to Jason.”
A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. “I’m Katherine. Jason’s wife. Mark’s mother. And you?”
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The words hit me like a slap. Jason’s wife. Of course. My stomach twisted.
What did I expect? For him to wait for me all these years? What an idiot I was.
“I’m Miss Annie,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Mark’s teacher.
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His expression didn’t change. “Is Mark having trouble at school? You can talk to me.”
“Not at all,” I said quickly. “Mark is wonderful. I just wanted to meet his parents.”
Katherine nodded, her smile cold. “Nice to meet you.”
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“Same,” I whispered, then turned and walked to my car.
The moment I got into my car, the tears came. Hot, unstoppable. My hands gripped the steering wheel as sobs wracked my chest. What an idiot I was. A real idiot.
What did I expect? For me to knock on the door, for Jason to open it, for his face to light up with recognition?
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That he would still be single, that he would still be waiting, that he would still be thinking of me after all these years?
Let him tell me he never stopped loving me, and let us rewrite our story with a happy ending?
Reality hit me hard. Jason had a wife. A family. A life that didn’t include me. That card had probably been tucked away in a forgotten box, mixed in with old papers, meaningless today.
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I wiped my face and walked home in silence. That evening, I curled up on my couch with a tub of ice cream, drowning my sorrows in sweet comfort.
Romantic comedies played on my screen, taunting me. They made me believe in love, in destiny. Look where that got me.
I tried to move on. I almost did, until one afternoon after school, I was picking up some scattered toys. A deep voice stopped me in my tracks.
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“Hello. My son gave you a Valentine’s Day card a few days ago. I know it’s a terrible thing to ask, but this one really means a lot to me. I’d like it back.”
The voice was familiar. Too familiar.
I stood up too quickly and hit my head on the wooden shelf above me. Pain shot through my skull.
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“Ouch!” I yelled, rubbing the sore spot.
“Oh, are you okay?” the man asked, stepping forward. His voice was worried. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I’m fine, you didn’t…” I began, before stopping abruptly. I finally looked at him.
“Jason…” I whispered.
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His eyes widened. “Annie…” He took a slow breath, as if trying to steady himself. “I… I never thought it could be real. When Mark told me his mistress’s name was Miss Annie, I thought it was just a coincidence.”
“Turns out that wasn’t the case,” I said, my voice unsteady.
He nodded, his gaze fixed on mine. “I wanted to find you, but…” His words trailed off.
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“I wanted to see you too,” I admitted. “I even went to your house after Mark gave me that card, but your wife said you weren’t home.”
Jason blinked. “My wife?”
“Katherine,” I clarified.
Jason sighed and shook his head. “She’s not my wife. Well, she was. But we divorced years ago.”
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I frowned. “That’s… weird. She told me she was your wife.”
Jason let out a tired laugh. “Sounds like Katherine. She thinks she can win me back by scaring off every woman who comes near me.”
I stared at him, then let out a small, surprised laugh. Even after all these years, he still had a way of making me smile.
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“So,” he said, nodding toward the map. “Am I still the funniest guy you know?”
I swallowed, my fingers tightening on the edge of my desk. “Why did you keep it all these years?”
Jason’s eyes softened. “Why do you think that is?”
“Jason, I don’t want to get caught up in any drama with your ex,” I began, forcing myself to remain logical.
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“There’s no drama,” he replied. “Katherine lives in London. She’s only here to visit Mark.”
I hesitated. “Jason… why did you keep the card?” I asked again.
He moved closer, his voice quieter. “For the same reason I came back here. Because of you.”
“You came back for me?” My voice was barely audible.
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Jason nodded. “I was too scared to look for you. I thought you wouldn’t remember me.”
I swallowed hard. “I never forgot you.”
His face transformed into that same smile I’d fallen in love with all those years ago. Maybe we’ll have a happy ending after all.
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