From First Glance to Heartbreak: A Love Story Through Time

**From Meeting to Parting**

Five years ago, Dorothy was left alone. Her husband had passed after a long battle with cancer. Before that, their only daughter had married and moved away, first giving birth to a son, Oliver, then three years later, a daughter, Emily. When her husband was still well, Dorothy would visit her daughter. But once he fell ill, she couldnt leave him.

Her daughter came occasionally, leaving the children with her husband. She insisted they shouldnt see their dying grandfather. At the funeral, her daughter arrived aloneand left straight after.

*”Sorry, Mum, but the kids need me You should come stay with us. Whats left for you here?”*

And with that, she was gone. Dorothy was alone. She ached for her husbandsick as he was, at least he had been alive. Now, who needed her?

After nine days, Dorothy decided to visit. But her daughter and son-in-law worked long hours, and the grandchildren barely remembered her, keeping their distance. She felt like an intruder. After a week, she packed her bags.

*”Mum, stay a little longer?”* her daughter offered half-heartedly, but when Dorothy refused, she didnt insist.

Dorothy never visited again. Last year, they stopped by on their way back from holiday. Oliver, now fourteen, barely looked up from his tablet, earbuds permanently in. Emily, with pink streaks in her hair, spent hours texting and chewing gum.

Dorothy tried to warn her daughterthis wasnt healthy for young minds. Did she know what they were watching or who they were talking to?

*”Mum, all kids are like this now. Banning things just makes it worse,”* her daughter dismissed.

Before they left, Dorothy tried again.

*”Im lonely. Come visit more. The children dont even know me. While Im still able, maybe they could stay with me sometimes?”*

*”Mum, why give yourself the hassle?”*

*”Theyre my grandchildren. What hassle?”*

*”Well see,”* her daughter said. But a year passed, and they never came.

So Dorothy went to them. What else could she do? She was retired, free. The parents worked all day, while the kids lived on pizza and takeaways. She took over the cooking. At first, everyone loved her soups and piesuntil they went back to pizza. Her son-in-law scolded her for hand-washing dishes: *”We have a dishwasher, you know.”*

Her daughter sighed, rearranging the drying rack. Oliver complained shed *”messed up”* his wardrobe. Dorothy defended herselfshed only tidied.

*”Mum, dont interfere,”* her daughter said.

*”Gran, stop baking. Ive gained weight,”* Emily whined.

*”And pizza doesnt make you fat?”* Dorothy retorted.

She realised she was in the way. Time to leave. Her daughter didnt object, and her son-in-law drove her to the station.

She missed her husband. If only Arthur were still here Why had he left her alone? No one to talk to. Who would care for her if she fell ill?

She used to knit and embroider, but her eyesight had worsened. What was left? Baking piesbut who would eat them? One friend had died soon after her husband; the other was too busy with her own grandchildren.

***

The last warm days of autumn lingered. The park was golden underfoot as Dorothy scattered breadcrumbs for pigeons. Soon, sparrows joined in.

She watched them, thinking how fleeting life was. Shed hoped to grow old with Arthur. Now, even her family didnt need her.

*”Quite the gathering,”* a voice said.

A man sat at the other end of the benchwell-dressed, around her age.

*”Ive seen you here before,”* he remarked.

Dorothy hadnt noticed him.

*”Im alone too. My wife died eight years ago. Still not used to it.”*

It was as if hed read her thoughts.

*”Its a lovely day. Last of the warmth,”* he said, tilting his face to the sun.

*”Do you have help? Youre so put together.”*

*”Had to learn after Margaret passed. My sons busy with his family. Think men cant manage?”* He smiled. *”Im George. And you?”*

*”Dorothy.”*

*”Lovely name. Fancy the cinema? Its getting chilly.”*

She hesitated. But the flat was so empty.

*”Whats playing?”*

*”Does it matter?”*

She couldnt remember the last time shed gone. The cinema was nothing like she recalledplush seats, a vast screen. Afterward, George suggested tea, but she invited him back instead.

*”Ive made pancakes. No one to eat them.”*

Her flat was cosy. George admired Arthurs portrait.

*”Cancer,”* she said simply.

Over tea, he noticed her booksmedical texts among them.

*”Retired biology teacher. Wanted to be a doctor, but life had other plans.”*

*”I was in the army,”* he said, browsing her shelves. *”Youre rareinviting a stranger in.”*

*”Were you planning to rob me?”*

He laughed. *”Till tomorrow, then?”*

They met daily in the park, two lonely souls starved for company.

Then her daughter called.

*”You went to the cinema? Alone?”*

*”With a friend.”*

*”A man? Mum, be careful! Scammers target widows. Is he after your flat?”*

*”Thats horrible! You never even met him!”*

*”I mean it. Remember Mrs. Fletcher? Lost everything!”*

They argued, parting in anger.

As autumn deepened, George invited her to his cottageto tidy the garden, check on the place.

*”Havent been much since Margaret died.”*

The cottage was charming, the fireplace warm. Dorothy cooked while George raked leavesuntil his sons SUV pulled up.

The shouting started at once. Dorothy stepped outside.

*”Hello! Would you like to come in?”*

*”Shes in our house now? Dad, have you lost it?”* His son sneered at Dorothy. *”Gold-digger! After his money, are you?”*

George clutched his chest, collapsing. Dorothy rushed to him.

*”Call an ambulance!”*

*”Ill drive him,”* his son snapped, shoving her aside.

Alone, Dorothy locked up and caught the bus home.

The next day, she found George in hospitalhis son blocked her.

*”Leave! The wills settled. You get nothing.”*

She returned the next morning, lying that she was his wife. The nurse shook her head. *”He passed at dawn.”*

She didnt attend the funeral. Couldnt face more accusations.

Two lonely hearts, parted too soon.

A week later, her daughter arrived unannouncedwith suitcases.

*”Whats wrong?”* Dorothy asked.

*”Dads leaving us,”* Emily blurted. *”For someone else.”*

Her daughter wept; the grandchildren clung to Dorothy, phones forgotten.

She welcomed the sudden purposethe noise, the need.

But for how long?

**Lesson:** Loneliness is a cruel companion, but even fleeting connections remind us we still matter.

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From First Glance to Heartbreak: A Love Story Through Time
Wait a moment,” he said.