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A date at 60
At 60, my husband—technically my boyfriend—decided to take me out on a long-awaited date to a cozy little restaurant. I had been pestering him for a while, and finally, we made it happen.
I ordered a simple chicken soup for my soul, while he, being a pure vegetarian, chose pasta. From the beginning, our differences seemed almost insurmountable.
I couldn't go a day without non-veg, and he thrived on his vegetarian diet. I was a night owl, while he greeted the dawn with open arms. Yet, somehow, we made it work.
I always saw a childlike wonder in him, and he, even now, treats me with the tenderness he did when we first met, despite my being a 60-year-old grandmother.
As our food arrived and we began to eat, I noticed a young couple nearby, lost in their own world. The young man handed his partner a bouquet of daisies and proposed. She blushed, and they shared a kiss, their happiness palpable.
I nudged my husband to look, but he barely reacted. My eyes lingered on the couple, reminiscing about our own youthful days filled with similar moments.
Suddenly, I realized my husband was no longer sitting across from me. Panic set in as I remembered he had the wallet and needed to pay the bill. I scanned the room frantically, and just as the waiter approached, I felt a soft thud against my shoulder.
Turning around, I found myself face-to-face with my husband, his round belly almost touching me. He held a bouquet of roses and, to my surprise and delight, knelt down just as he had so many years ago.
In that moment, he was not the awkward boy with no flirting skills I remembered from our youth, but a man who had spent decades caring for us.
His eyes held no expectations, only a deep, unwavering love that had grown and flourished over the years.I kissed him, accepting the bouquet that nostalgied not just our past memories but the vibrant, enduring relationship we still shared.
It didn’t matter that we were in our 60s. Love transcends age, and it’s never too early or too late to rekindle the romance. It’s all for love.
© Aboorva
I ordered a simple chicken soup for my soul, while he, being a pure vegetarian, chose pasta. From the beginning, our differences seemed almost insurmountable.
I couldn't go a day without non-veg, and he thrived on his vegetarian diet. I was a night owl, while he greeted the dawn with open arms. Yet, somehow, we made it work.
I always saw a childlike wonder in him, and he, even now, treats me with the tenderness he did when we first met, despite my being a 60-year-old grandmother.
As our food arrived and we began to eat, I noticed a young couple nearby, lost in their own world. The young man handed his partner a bouquet of daisies and proposed. She blushed, and they shared a kiss, their happiness palpable.
I nudged my husband to look, but he barely reacted. My eyes lingered on the couple, reminiscing about our own youthful days filled with similar moments.
Suddenly, I realized my husband was no longer sitting across from me. Panic set in as I remembered he had the wallet and needed to pay the bill. I scanned the room frantically, and just as the waiter approached, I felt a soft thud against my shoulder.
Turning around, I found myself face-to-face with my husband, his round belly almost touching me. He held a bouquet of roses and, to my surprise and delight, knelt down just as he had so many years ago.
In that moment, he was not the awkward boy with no flirting skills I remembered from our youth, but a man who had spent decades caring for us.
His eyes held no expectations, only a deep, unwavering love that had grown and flourished over the years.I kissed him, accepting the bouquet that nostalgied not just our past memories but the vibrant, enduring relationship we still shared.
It didn’t matter that we were in our 60s. Love transcends age, and it’s never too early or too late to rekindle the romance. It’s all for love.
© Aboorva
