On her wedding day, Anne receives a letter from her late mother, written especially for this moment. As Anne reads her mother’s heartfelt words, she begins to question if she’s truly marrying the right man. Doubts flood her mind, leaving her to wonder if she’s made the right choice.
Anne sat in the quiet hotel room, her fingers lightly brushing over the sealed envelope in her lap. The letter was from her mother, Diane, who had passed away not long ago.
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Diane had written letters for every important event in Anne’s life: her high school graduation, her wedding day, even the future birth of a child. Today, Anne was opening the one for her wedding.
Her heart ached knowing her mother wasn’t there, but Diane had found a way to stay close, even after death.
With shaky hands, Anne opened the envelope and carefully unfolded the letter. Her mother’s familiar handwriting appeared, and immediately, tears welled up in Anne’s eyes.
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She blinked rapidly, wiping them away before they could ruin her makeup. The words on the page blurred for a moment before Anne could focus.
“Anne, my dear Anne, today is your big day. Like every bride, you’re probably panicking about something small going wrong. But none of these little things will matter in the long run. A year from now, you won’t even remember them. What truly matters is that you’ve chosen the right man…”
Anne paused, feeling her chest tighten. The doubts she’d been carrying for months surfaced again. Had she really chosen the right man? Her mother’s words made her question everything all over again.
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Three months earlier…
Anne and Roger strolled through the park, laughing about their most recent dating disasters. Things always seemed to go wrong for both of them.
“So, how’s that last guy? What was his name again?” Roger asked, squinting as if trying to remember.
“Mark,” Anne answered.
“Right, Mark. How was that?”
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Anne shrugged. “He’s okay. He’s successful, has his own company. He took me to a fancy restaurant, and drove me home after.”
“But…?” Roger raised an eyebrow.
“He’s boring,” Anne admitted, sighing. “All he talked about was work. I didn’t know what to say, so I just sat there, nodding.”
Roger laughed. “So, no second date?”
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“Actually…” Anne hesitated, kicking at the ground.
“Wait, what? Why?” Roger asked, surprised.
“He’s a good guy, you know? He’s successful, and I’ve always wanted someone like that. And… he didn’t try to kiss me, which was kind of nice,” she explained.
Roger looked puzzled. “So, you’re going to keep seeing him because he didn’t kiss you?”
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“It’s not like that,” Anne said, defending herself. “It’s just… it feels safe. But it’s still early. We’re just dating.”
Roger gave her a curious look. “And what about you? Seeing anyone?” Anne asked, trying to change the subject.
“There’s someone,” Roger admitted, glancing at her.
“Then tell her how you feel,” Anne said, nudging him playfully.
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“What if she doesn’t feel the same? I could lose her,” Roger replied, his tone serious.
“You won’t,” Anne said with a grin. “Trust me. She’d be crazy not to love you.”
Roger smiled, but his eyes held something more.
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After their second date, Mark asked Anne to be his girlfriend, and she decided to give it a try. A little over a month later, they moved in together.
At first, things seemed fine, but one day, Anne came down with a fever. She was curled up in bed, her head pounding. She had asked Mark to take the day off to stay with her, but he refused, saying he had too much work, even though he owned the company.
As Anne lay there, her body aching, she heard the doorbell ring. She groaned, forcing herself out of bed. Slowly, she made her way to the door and opened it. There, standing with a warm smile and a large bag, was Roger.
“Hey, sick girl,” Roger said, smiling as Anne opened the door.
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“Hey,” Anne replied, her voice weak and stuffy from the cold.
“I brought you some soup,” Roger said, holding up the bag he was carrying.
“You’re my hero,” Anne said with a small grin, stepping aside to let him in.
They walked into the kitchen. Anne sat down at the table while Roger went straight to the stove to heat up the soup.
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“So, how’s living with Mark?” Roger asked, stirring the soup.
“It’s fine,” Anne said. “He’s really neat. I don’t even have to ask him to clean up. He just does it.”
Roger nodded. “That sounds good.”
“Yeah, but…” Anne hesitated, biting her lip.
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“But what?” Roger asked, turning to look at her.
“It’s nothing,” Anne said, shaking her head.
“Come on, tell me,” Roger insisted, leaning against the counter.
Anne sighed. “He wants me to quit my job. He says he can support both of us and that being a chef isn’t serious enough.”
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Roger frowned. “But you love your job.”
“I know,” Anne said. “I told him that, but maybe he’s right. Maybe I should just let it go.”
Roger walked over and sat down next to her. He took her hand, looking into her eyes. “Anne, you’re amazing at what you do. You’ve worked so hard to get where you are. Don’t give that up for anyone, not even Mark. You deserve to follow your dreams.”
Anne smiled, feeling a warmth in her chest. “Thanks, Roger. You always know what to say.”
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“I mean it,” Roger said. “And besides, I need your cooking. I wouldn’t survive without it.”
Anne laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”
Roger grinned. “I’m serious!”
“Alright, I’ll think about it,” Anne said.
“Hey,” Anne whispered.
“Hey?” Roger replied, unsure of what was happening.
Without saying another word, Anne stepped forward and kissed him—kissed him with everything she had. At that moment, she knew Roger was the one. This was just the beginning of their story.
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