Page 140 of The Problem with Dating

Despite the years and miles between them, it was clear that whatever connection they held was real, and Teresa still held those memories within her heart.

“I’m sorry to hear how it ended,” I told her.

“Thank you.” She shook off her emotions. “Over ten years ago, I received a email from Peter. He found me online.”

“An email?”

“Yes. He told me about his life back in Honey Creek. How he married, and had children, grandchildren. How he helped run this town and how much it meant to him. I wrote him back, and we became pen pals. At first, I felt guilty over the words I left him on the page. Then I felt safe. It was like talking to a ghost almost. An old friend who remembered the best days of your life. He wrote me in Spanish, too. I replied in English, showing how far we’d come with our studies. We’d send picture updates and tell all the stories we’d missed the opportunity to share over the past decades.”

“For the past ten years, you’ve been emailing this guy?”

“Yup.”

“You’ve been back in the United States for over twelve years. We’re right in Chicago. Why didn’t you reach out to him? Why didn’t you try to meet him?”

“Oh.” She waved a dismissive hand. “He had his whole world here. It wasn’t my place to come mix it up. I couldn’t even talk to him on the phone because I felt as if it would become…I don’t know. Real, maybe. The thought of hearing his voice was too much for me because I felt as if maybe I’d still be in love.”

“It sounds like you never stopped being in love.”

“Maybe that’s what love is—something that never really stops.”

“How does someone know when it’s real love?”

“Latidos del corazón,” she said. “It’s in one’s heartbeats. The heart can’t lie, even when the brain tries to deceive it. Every person who’s ever been in love—good or bad—feels it deep within their souls forever. That’s the thing with real love—it’s for better or worse.”

“What was this guy Peter to you? Was he for better or for worse?”

She snickered quietly. “He was for best.”

That made me sad for her. The best love she’d ever had was in her youth. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was even worth experiencing, with it being so short-lived.

“The emails stopped?” I asked.

“Yes. They did. He became sick and told me he didn’t have much time left. The last one he wrote me, he signed it see you later. I’m holding on to that promise, too. Peter wasn’t one to ever break promises.”

“Teresa, I’m sor—”

“Don’t apologize, nephew,” she warned. “Because I was blessed to know a love like that. Most people don’t get those kinds of opportunities. I had it twice. When I was young, and now in my later years, his emails gave me that feeling again.” She held the key around her neck and took it off. “In his last he told me he left me something. After he passed away, I was delivered this key.”

“To?”

She gestured toward the movie theater. “He said to do with it as I please, and I think I’d like a restaurant there. So maybe other young souls could have their first kisses there, too, and fall in love and get the happily ever after Peter and I missed.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Who would’ve ever thought my aunt Teresa was a hopeless romantic.”

“Hopeful,” she corrected. “A hopeful romantic. There’s a difference. Speaking of…” She tapped my leg with her cane. “What is this I hear about your proposal to Catie?”

“Who told you about that?” I asked, knowing who it had been.

“Noah. He called me for our Sunday chat.”

Noah was my best friend and had known Teresa for years. He felt as if she was the grandmother he’d never had growing up. I swore, sometimes they talked to one another more than I spoke to them both, and I lived with the woman. Teresa said I was always too busy swimming in my thoughts to actually communicate with others.

“Of course he told you,” I mumbled, not wanting to get too much into the conversation.

She placed a hand on top of mine, which was resting in my lap. “I’m sorry, Alejandro.”

“I’m fine. It doesn’t matter.”

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