Joan looked through her old school album, flooded with memories from a time long past. It had been two decades since she graduated, but the memory of the boy who broke her heart was still sharp as ever. She hoped the reunion would be her chance to confront him, unaware of the truth that lay buried.
As I turned each page of my yearbook, a wave of nostalgia overtook me. Twenty years gone by yet the faces in those photographs seemed just as lively. There I was, Joana Cooper, my youthful grin captured forever, and beneath it, an idealistic quote I once cherished: “Love is a two-person job.”
How naive I had been, I thought, but amusement quickly shifted to melancholy when I saw his picture. Chad Barns. My high school crush. The boy who had my heart enthralled for years.
I was utterly enamored with Chad back then, leaving secret notes, awkwardly flirting, and quietly tucking valentines into his backpack, convinced he was my future husband.
I had painted an entire future in my mind, from our wedding to growing old together. But now, at 38 and still single, I couldn’t figure out why Chad had suddenly distanced himself back then.
His silence haunted me since graduation.
Just as I was diving deeper into my thoughts, the doorbell rang.
Setting the album aside, I answered the door to see my best friend, Lora, her vibrant smile infectious.
“Ready for the reunion?” she asked, her enthusiasm palpable.
I leaned against the door, undecided.
“Honestly, I’m hesitant,” I confessed.
“Why?” she was puzzled.
Sighing, I shared, “I came across old pictures and Chad popped up in my mind.”
Lora rolled her eyes dramatically, crossing her arms.
“Still hung up on Chad after all these years?”
“Sounds silly, but it still hurts. We were close, then suddenly he ghosted me.”
Lora consoled me, “Chad might not even be there. This evening should be about fun, not old heartbreaks.”
A forced smile crept on my face as I agreed, “Right. But if he is there, he’ll remember what he missed.”
Feeling jittery during the drive, I questioned his possible presence, uncertain which outcome would be more daunting.
We arrived, and my nervous gaze caught my reflection as I adjusted my attire. Lora’s reassurance clung to my thoughts.
“Joan, let tonight be about you, not him. We’ll have fun,” she insisted.
I nodded, but apprehension weighed me down. We exited the car, each step tugging my heart tighter.
The event launched us into nostalgia, familiar faces stirring old ties, laughter bridging the past and present. I was almost at ease until I saw him—Chad Barns.
Sensing his presence spun my emotions. He looked handsome, his smile unlocking years of pent-up emotions and doubt.
Lora, aware of my struggle, gently led me away. “Don’t approach him,” she whispered.
I nodded, my instinct driven to finally seek Chad’s side of the story. Later, Lora left to repair a spill on her dress, and alone, I drifted outdoors to a quiet bench in the schoolyard.
Calmness enveloped me, recalling days when dreams consumed my heart. But memories of Chad stubbornly persisted.
Footsteps snapped me back. Chad approached slowly, his smile disarming me.
“Hey, Joana,” he said gently.
“Chad,” I greeted, emotions jumbling within me. “It’s been too long.”
“I didn’t know if you’d talk to me after high school,” he admitted.
“I was unsure myself.”
He continued, “I sent a letter asking you on a date. When you didn’t come, I assumed you weren’t interested.”
“A letter? I never received it,” I answered, bewildered.
His brow furrowed in realization.
Footsteps interrupted us again. Lora returned, her expression uneasy.
“Do you know about Chad’s letter?” I asked, piecing fragments together.
Lora’s hesitation was telltale; guilt laced her voice.
“I liked Chad and didn’t want you two together, so I hid the letter,” she confessed.
Chad and I exchanged glances, stunned by the revelation.
Anger simmered beneath shock as Lora retreated, apologies trailing her steps.
Chad moved closer, hugging me warmly. Together, we absorbed the truth, unraveling misunderstandings.
“We can’t alter the past,” Chad said gently, “but we can shape what’s next.”
Resolute, I sought to leave bygones behind, sharing laughter and stories. Despite lost time, hope lingered for our future.
