Chapter 1 – The Lonely Old Man

My name is Steven Johnson. I live in the United States. I am sixty-eight years old now. Life has made me weak, but my heart is still full of memories. Today I want to share my story. People often ask, “Steven, why do you look so sad? Did your wife leave you?” I smile and say, “No, she never left me. She never would. Life took her away, not her choice.”

Eight months ago, my wife Ava passed away. Since that day, I feel broken. My days are long, my nights are heavy. I sit alone and think of her. I look at her photos and whisper, “You are still with me, Ava. You will always be with me.”

Some people tell me to move on. They say, “You are still alive. Find another partner.” A young woman, Elina, even came to me. She said, “Steven, I love you. Please marry me. I will take care of you.” I looked into her eyes and said softly, “No, I cannot. My heart belongs to Ava.”

You see, one night I made a promise to Ava. I told her, “Even after you, I will never love another woman. Only you.” She held my hand and said, “I trust you, Steven.” That promise became my life. Even now, when she is not here, I live with that promise.

Let me tell you how our story began. I was only thirty-two years old. I was poor. I worked in a hotel, cleaning and serving food. My clothes were simple, my pockets empty, but my heart was alive. Then I saw Ava. She was shy, gentle, and kind. She came from a rich family, but she was different. She spoke to me with respect. That respect touched me.

I still remember how my heart beat fast when I first saw her. I told myself, “Steven, don’t be foolish. She is rich, you are poor. She will never care for you.” But every day, she came back. Every day, she smiled at me. That smile gave me hope.

One day, I was not at work. I was sick. Ava came that day. She looked for me. She asked the other waiters, “Where is Steven?” They said I was not there. She sat quietly, then left without ordering. The next day my friends told me what happened. Tears filled my eyes. I thought, “Maybe I matter to her. Maybe she cares.”

The next time she came, I gathered courage. My hands shook, but I spoke. “Ava, can we be friends? I know you are rich and I am poor. But can we still be friends?” She looked at me and gave me words I will never forget. She said, “Friendship is not about rich or poor. You are a good man, Steven. I want to be your friend. But promise me you will never think you are less. We are equal.”

Those words broke my fear. For the first time in my life, I felt worthy. We started talking more. We shared stories, we laughed, and soon, our hearts came close. That was the beginning of our love.

But love is never easy. Ava’s family never liked me. When I went to her house, I saw it in their eyes. They looked at me as if I was nothing. I felt pain, but Ava gave me courage. She said, “Steven, I don’t care what they think. I choose you.”

One day, she came to me with fire in her eyes. She said, “I fought with my parents. They want me to marry a rich man. But I will not. I love you. I will marry you this week.” I was shocked. I asked, “Ava, will you really leave your family for me?” She held my hand tight and said, “Yes. Love is my choice. You are my choice.”

That day, I knew she was not just a woman. She was my angel. She left everything behind for me. And from that day, we walked one path, together.

Now she is gone, but her love is not gone. It lives in me. When I wake, I feel her voice. When I sleep, I see her face. She may not be here, but she is still with me. And I tell myself every day, “Steven, you were lucky. You had the best wife ever.”