💔 The Valentine That Should Have Been Love’s Return
Cora’s heart was lighter than it had been in years. The warm scent of garlic and olive oil drifted through the house. Candlelight flickered across the dining table, where two places were set with care. She wore the red dress Eric had given her on their first anniversary—its fabric slightly worn, but its meaning still fresh in her heart. A heart-shaped cheesecake cooled on the counter. Beside Eric’s plate sat a small, carefully wrapped box.
After years of sleepless nights with triplets, balancing bills, and stretching every coin, she had planned this Valentine’s Day to remind them both of what they still had—each other.
When the door opened, she looked at him with hope. But the hope didn’t last.
💔 Words That Cut Deeper Than Silence
Instead of seeing love, Eric saw cost.
“What’s all this, Cora? Are we playing pretend like kids?”
She laughed gently, trying to keep the mood light. “It’s just a small surprise. Nothing too much—just something warm for us.”
But his voice rose, sharp and impatient.
“I work all day while you play house, and this is what you waste money on? You didn’t even clean the kitchen!”
The sting was worse than any silence. He pushed the plate away, spat out the food, and tossed the gift aside.
Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
“I made it for you.”
But he wasn’t listening. Not when the babies stirred. Not when she asked him to calm down.
When she said she was running out to get diapers, she left without another word—her eyes shining with unshed tears.
💔 The Door That Didn’t Open For Her
An hour passed. The triplets began to cry. Still, she didn’t come back.
Eric, still caught in the haze of anger, finally reached for his phone—but before he could call, the doorbell rang.
He expected her.
Instead, a police officer stood there.
“Sir… I’m sorry. There’s been an @ccident. Your wife didn’t make it.”
The world seemed to collapse around him.
Behind the officer, the untouched table waited—candles still burning, the gift still lying where he’d thrown it.
💔 The Gift He Never Opened
Days later, after a quiet funeral filled with the weight of unspoken words, Eric sat alone in the empty house. He noticed the gift again.
With trembling hands, he unwrapped it. Inside were two plane tickets to Hawaii—and a letter.
To the love of my life,
Happy Valentine’s Day! Guess what? I got a job! I know how much we’ve been through, so I planned a little break for us. Mrs. Nelson will watch the kids. You deserve this. We both do.
Love, Cora.
Eric’s tears came in waves. She hadn’t just made dinner—she’d built a bridge back to the love they once knew. She hadn’t just given a gift—she’d given hope.
And he never saw it.
💔 Love That Came Too Late
Every Valentine’s Day since, Eric visits her grave. He brings cheesecake. Sometimes a flower. And he talks to her for hours—about the children, about life, about what he wishes he could change.
Not because it will bring her back.
But because it’s the only way to tell her…
That he finally saw her.
And never stopped loving her.