I Wasn’t Looking for My First Love – but When a Student Chose Me for a Holiday Interview Project, I Learned He’d Been Searching for Me for 40 Years

“You love me now?” I asked, half-laughing through the sting. “At 62?”

“I’m 63,” he said, smiling gently. “And yes.”

My eyes burned. I blinked fast because I hate crying in public.

Then I remembered the post.

“The important thing,” I said. “What did you need to return?”

Dan reached into his coat pocket and placed something on the table.

“I found it during the move.”

A locket.

My locket.

The one with my parents’ photo inside. The one I lost senior year and mourned like it was a body.

“I found it during the move,” he said softly. “You left it at my house. It got packed in a box. I kept it safe. I told myself I’d give it back someday.”

My fingers shook as I opened it.

“I couldn’t let it go.”

My parents smiled up at me, untouched by time.

My chest tightened so hard it hurt.

“I thought it was gone forever,” I whispered.

“I couldn’t let it go,” he said.

We sat in a quiet pocket of the café while the world went on around us.

Finally, Dan cleared his throat.

“I’m not giving up my job.”

“I don’t want to rush you,” he said. “But… will you give us a chance? Not to redo 17. Just to see what’s left for us now.”