It was a month ago that I finally took the plunge. At 78 years old, I decided to pack up my life in Durham, North Carolina, and move into my parents’ old apartment in Miami. They had bought it for their retirement years ago, and it had sat there, a quiet memory of them, since they passed. For a long time, it was just our family vacation spot.
I’d thought about moving when my husband, Charles, died six years ago, but the timing never felt right. My daughter, Melissa, had just had her first baby, and I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving them. But the apartment remained in the back of my mind, a sun-drenched escape waiting for me.
When Melissa told me she was pregnant with her second child, I saw my opportunity to help her and finally seek that change. I didn’t want them drowning in debt for a bigger house, so I offered them my family home. It was spacious, in a wonderful school district, and completely paid off.
Melissa accepted almost instantly, though she worried about me. “Are you sure you don’t want to live with us? There’s more than enough room,” she’d said.
I just patted her shoulder and smiled. “Yes, darling. You need your space, and I need mine. That apartment is perfect for an old woman like me, and I miss the beach—a warm beach—like crazy.”
Moving was hard, but Miami felt like a balm. Every morning, I would sit on my balcony, letting the morning sun soak into my skin. Doctors might warn about the sun, but there is something about that golden light and the salty tang of the sea air that heals a soul. I was happy. Truly happy.
One afternoon, I was in the kitchen fixing myself a sandwich and some chips for lunch when the doorbell rang. I wiped my hands on my apron, assuming it was my neighbor, Mrs. Cardigan, coming over for our daily gossip.
But when I opened the door, my heart nearly stopped.
My jaw dropped, and I felt the air leave my lungs. Standing there, looking older but unmistakably himself, was Nathan. He was my first love—the love of my life, if I’m being honest. Even during my happy years with Charles, Nathan had remained a permanent mark on my heart.
When we were in our 20s, our love was the kind you only read about in novels. It was passionate, steamy, and legendary, but it was also volatile. Some might even call it toxic. He was mysterious; I knew next to nothing about his family or his personal life. He would disappear for days, weeks, sometimes months, dodging my questions until I simply stopped asking.
The last time I saw him, fifty years ago, he had walked out of my old apartment with a smile on his face. I waited for him for a year. I had no way to contact him, no way to find him. Eventually, I had to move on. I met Charles, I built a life, and Nathan became a ghost of my past.
And yet, here he was. Standing on my doorstep as if half a century hadn’t passed.
“Hey, Laura. How are you?” he asked, his voice sounding far too carefree.
“Hey? It’s been more than fifty years, Nathan!” I snapped, my shock turning into a sudden, hot flash of anger. “Why are you here? How did you find me?”
He looked at me with that same crazy smile that, even now, made my heart skip a beat. His face was etched with wrinkles and sunspots, and his posture was a bit stooped, but he was still Nathan.
“I know,” he said softly. “I want to explain everything. Will you let me in?”
I crossed my arms, hesitating, before finally stepping aside. “Fine. Come in.”
Once he sat down, he tried to start with small talk, asking how I’d been. I wasn’t having it. “I don’t have time for chit-chat. I want answers—real answers. You ignored me back then and you disappeared. Start talking or leave.”
He let out a heavy sigh, looking down at his hands. “It wasn’t easy. Back then, my parents had arranged a marriage for me with the daughter of one of their wealthiest friends. I didn’t want it, but I had to pretend to comply. I was in love with you, but I knew they would never approve.”
My mouth fell open. He continued, explaining that every time he disappeared, he was with her—Kiara. She was demanding and loved to travel, and he felt he had no choice but to follow her lead.
“So you were cheating on me the entire time?” I hissed, the old pain resurfacing.
“I wasn’t! I swear!” he retorted, his voice full of frustration. “It wasn’t romantic. I didn’t even hold her hand. But she knew I didn’t want the arrangement, and she held it over me. If I didn’t give her my time, she would have told my parents about you, and they would have made things terrible for you.”
I looked at him, trying to find a lie in his eyes, but he sounded genuine. “Then why didn’t you come back after that last time?”
“That year was a mess,” he said quietly. “I was graduating, I had a major internship, and Kiara was planning a wedding I didn’t want. Then, she died in a car accident. It was a tragedy, and it made everything more complicated. I stayed to help her parents because they thought I was her fiancé. As soon as I could get away, I went back for you.”
“When did you return?” I asked, confused.
“I went to your house, and I saw another man there with you,” he explained, looking pained. “I didn’t know who he was, but I didn’t want to ruin whatever you had found. I went back every day for a month, and he was always there. Eventually, I heard you two had married.”
“That was Charles,” I whispered.
“My condolences,” he said.
We sat in silence for a moment before I asked the question that had been nagging at me. “How did you find me here, Nathan? All the way in Miami?”
“I moved down here in my 30s,” he revealed. “I never married. After losing you, I couldn’t give my heart to anyone else. About twenty years ago, I saw your parents walking around this area. I figured out where they lived and I just… waited. I saw that you didn’t sell the place after they died, and I hoped that one day, you’d come here.”
I couldn’t believe it. He had been waiting for twenty years. He had lived his life alone, holding onto the memory of us.
“Would you like a sandwich, Nathan?” I asked, my voice softening. It was a simple offer, but it was an olive branch.
Nathan started coming over every day after that. At first, we were just two old friends talking about everything under the sun. But eventually, the truth of our feelings became impossible to ignore. Time had changed our bodies, but it hadn’t touched the love we had for one another. It was like a candle that had been flickering in the dark for fifty years, only needing a small spark to burn bright once again.
I learned that your first love really can change your life, and while secrets can destroy a relationship, sometimes, if you’re lucky, life gives you a second chance to get it right. Nathan was back, and this time, I wasn’t letting him disappear.
