My life was simple, routine, predictable—until the day one of my students gave me a Valentine. The moment I unfolded the card, my heart stopped. It wasn’t just any Valentine. It was the one I had written years ago for someone I once loved. My hands trembled as I held it, my mind racing. How had it ended up in his hands? I had to know. Even if the truth changed everything.
People assume being an elementary school teacher is easy. I promise you, it’s not.
To all the college professors out there, have you ever had to remove sticky slime from a kid’s hair while the little culprit giggled in the corner? Have you ever tried scrubbing permanent marker off the walls before the principal walked in? Or rushed a rug to the dry cleaner because a student didn’t quite make it to the bathroom in time? I don’t think so. But for me, that was just a regular day.
Despite the chaos, I loved my job. Kids had this incredible way of making even the toughest days feel rewarding. But some days, it felt like I was teaching a classroom full of tiny tornadoes disguised as children.
Then there was Mark.
Mark was different. He was one of those kids people call an angel—quiet but not shy, polite but not stiff, always kind. He had only been in my class for a month, but I could tell he was still adjusting.
I often saw the other kids leave him out, and I found myself stepping in whenever I could. But Mark never seemed hurt by it.
“I just feel sorry for them,” he told me one day, his eyes calm and wise beyond his years. “They don’t know how to be nice.”
See? A real angel.
He had a habit of bringing me little gifts—a flower he found on the way to school, a drawing, even a neatly folded napkin that he proudly declared looked like a swan. I wondered who had raised such a sweet, thoughtful child. But since his nanny always picked him up, I never got to meet his parents.
On Valentine’s Day, Mark approached my desk, shifting from foot to foot. His hands were tucked behind his back, and his eyes flickered between me and the floor.
“I wanted to give you a Valentine,” he said softly.
I smiled. “For me?”
He nodded. “You’re a great teacher.”
“That’s very kind of you, Mark. Thank you.”
He gave a quick nod and turned as if to walk away.
“Wait,” I said. “Where’s the Valentine?”
Mark’s eyes widened. “Oh!” He quickly pulled a small card from behind his back and placed it on my desk, almost dropping it in the process.
I picked it up, and something about it tugged at my memory. My fingers trembled as I unfolded the paper.
“To the funniest and smartest boy I know. Don’t you dare forget me. Yours, Annie.”
My breath hitched. My vision blurred as I stared at the handwriting—my handwriting.
“Mark… where did you get this?” My voice barely came out.
“In my dad’s stuff,” he said. “It even has your name on it. Do you like it?”
I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself. “Yes, Mark. I love it.”
He beamed, then ran off, leaving me frozen in place. I could barely breathe. He had kept it. After all these years, Jason had kept it.
Memories crashed over me like a tidal wave, pulling me back to a time I thought I had long left behind. Jason.
My first love. My only real love.
We had been inseparable in high school, making grand plans for the future. College, careers, a life together. Nothing could break us. Or so I thought.
Until one day, Jason walked into the hallway looking like his whole world had collapsed.
“We’re moving to Europe,” he had said, his voice breaking. “My dad got a job there.”
Tears filled his eyes, and before I knew it, he was in my arms, holding on to me like he was drowning.
“Jason, no,” I had whispered, though deep down, I knew there was nothing I could do.
Our last day together was Valentine’s Day. I gave him that card. I watched him read it, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“Even if I wanted to, I could never forget you,” he had said before pulling me into a desperate embrace.
But time didn’t stop. Jason left.
And our love story had no happy ending.
Over the years, we lost touch. I thought he had never come back. But now, holding this card in my hands, I knew I was wrong.
I needed answers. I grabbed Mark’s student file, my heart pounding. My eyes scanned the page until I found his father’s name. Jason.
This wasn’t a coincidence.
As soon as school ended, I drove to the address listed on the file. My hands shook as I stood at the door. I took a deep breath and rang the bell.
The door swung open, and a tall, elegant woman stood before me. She was stunning—graceful, polished, everything I wasn’t in that moment.
“Can I help you?” she asked, tilting her head.
I forced a smile. “I’d like to speak with Jason.”
Her eyes flickered with something unreadable. “He’s not home. What is this about?”
“Are you Mark’s nanny?” I asked. “I really need to speak with Jason.”
She let out a soft chuckle. “I’m Katherine. Jason’s wife. Mark’s mother. And you are?”
Her words hit me like a slap. Jason’s wife. Of course. My stomach twisted painfully.
What had I expected? That he’d been waiting for me all these years?
I swallowed back the lump in my throat. “I’m Miss Annie. Mark’s teacher.”
She gave me a slow, knowing smile. “Nice to meet you.”
I nodded, murmured something polite, and walked back to my car. The moment I was inside, the tears came. Hot and unstoppable.
What a fool I was.
I tried to move on. I almost did—until a deep, familiar voice stopped me in my tracks one afternoon.
“Miss Annie? My son gave you a Valentine a few days ago. I know it’s a strange request, but that Valentine means a lot to me. I’d like to have it back.”
I turned too quickly, smacking my head on a wooden shelf. “Ouch!”
“Oh, are you okay?” the man asked, stepping closer.
I looked up. My breath caught. “Jason…”
His eyes widened. “Annie…”
He swallowed hard. “I never thought… I never thought I’d see you again.”
“I wanted to see you too,” I admitted. “I went to your house, but your wife—”
Jason frowned. “My wife?”
“Katherine,” I said.
Jason let out a dry laugh. “She’s not my wife. We divorced years ago.”
I blinked. “She told me she was.”
“That sounds like Katherine,” he sighed. “She likes to… rewrite things.”
My heart pounded. “Jason, why did you keep the Valentine?”
He stepped closer, voice soft. “For the same reason I came back here. Because of you.”
I inhaled sharply. “You came back for me?”
Jason nodded. “I never forgot you.”
My heart swelled. Maybe, just maybe, our story wasn’t over after all.
