{"id":102846,"date":"2024-12-11T20:28:18","date_gmt":"2024-12-11T13:28:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/?p=102846"},"modified":"2024-12-11T20:28:18","modified_gmt":"2024-12-11T13:28:18","slug":"elderly-man-always-bought-two-movie-tickets-for-himself-so-one-day-i-decided-to-find-out-why-story-of-the-day","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/elderly-man-always-bought-two-movie-tickets-for-himself-so-one-day-i-decided-to-find-out-why-story-of-the-day\/","title":{"rendered":"Elderly Man Always Bought Two Movie Tickets for Himself, So One Day I Decided to Find Out Why \u2013 Story of the Day"},"content":{"rendered":"
Every Monday, I watched an elderly man buy two tickets but always sit alone. Curiosity drove me to uncover his secret, so I bought a seat next to him. When he started sharing his story, I had no idea that our lives were about to intertwine in ways I could never have imagined.\n
The old city cinema wasn\u2019t just a job for me. It was a place where the hum of the projector could momentarily erase the worries of the world. The scent of buttered popcorn lingered in the air, and the faded vintage posters whispered stories of a golden age I had only ever imagined.\n
Every Monday morning, Edward appeared, his arrival as steady as the sunrise. He wasn\u2019t like the regulars who rushed in, fumbling for coins or their tickets.\n
\n
Edward carried himself with quiet dignity, his tall, lean frame draped in a neatly buttoned gray coat. His silver hair, combed back with precision, caught the light as he approached the counter. He always asked for the same thing.\n
“Two tickets for the morning movie.”\n
And yet, he always came alone.\n
His fingers, cold from the December chill, brushed mine as I handed him the tickets. I managed a polite smile, though my mind raced with unspoken questions.\n
Why two tickets? Who are they for?\n
\u201cTwo tickets again?\u201d Sarah teased from behind me, smirking as she rang up another customer. \u201cMaybe it\u2019s for some lost love. Like an old-fashioned romance, you know?\u201d\n
\u201cOr maybe a ghost,\u201d another coworker, Steve, chimed in, snickering. \u201cHe\u2019s probably married to one.\u201d\n
I didn\u2019t laugh. There was something about Edward that made their jokes feel wrong.\n
I thought about asking him, even rehearsing a few lines in my head, but every time the moment came, my courage vanished. After all, it wasn\u2019t my place.\n
***\n
\n
The following Monday was different. It was my day off, and as I lay in bed, staring at the frost creeping along the edges of the window, an idea began to form.\n
What if I follow him? It isn\u2019t spying. It is… curiosity. Almost Christmas, after all\u2014a season of wonder.\n
The morning air was sharp and fresh, and the holiday lights strung along the street seemed to glow brighter.\n
Edward was already seated when I entered the dimly lit theater, his figure outlined by the soft glow of the screen. He seemed lost in thought, his posture as straight and purposeful as ever. His eyes flickered toward me, and a faint smile crossed his lips.\n
\u201cYou\u2019re not working today,\u201d he observed.\n
I slid into the seat next to him. \u201cI thought you might need a company. I\u2019ve seen you here so many times.\u201d\n
He chuckled softly, though the sound held a trace of sadness. \u201cIt\u2019s not about movies.\u201d\n
\u201cThen what is it?\u201d I asked, unable to hide the curiosity in my tone.\n
Edward leaned back in his seat, his hands folded neatly in his lap. For a moment, he seemed hesitant, as though deciding whether or not to trust me with what he was about to say.\n
Then he spoke.\n
\n
\u201cYears ago,\u201d he began, his gaze fixed on the screen, \u201cthere was a woman who worked here. Her name was Evelyn.\u201d\n
I remained quiet, sensing this wasn\u2019t a story to rush.\n
\u201cShe was beautiful,\u201d he continued, a faint smile tugging at his lips. \u201cNot in the way that turns heads but in the way that lingers. Like a melody, you can\u2019t forget. She’d been working here. We met here, and then our story began.\u201d\n
I pictured it as he spoke: the bustling cinema, the flicker of the projector casting shadows on her face, and their quiet conversations between showings.\n
\u201cOne day, I invited her to a morning show on her day off,\u201d Edward said. \u201cShe agreed.\u201d\n
He paused, his voice faltering slightly. \u201cBut she never came.\u201d\n
\u201cWhat happened?\u201d I whispered, leaning closer.\n
\u201cI found out later she\u2019d been fired,\u201d he said, his tone heavier now. \u201cWhen I asked the manager for her contact information, he refused and told me never to come back. I didn\u2019t understand why. She was just… gone.\u201d\n
Edward exhaled, his gaze falling to the empty seat beside him. \u201cI tried to move on. I got married and lived a quiet life. But after my wife passed, I started coming here again, hoping… just hoping… I don’t know.\u201d\n
I swallowed hard. \u201cShe was the love of your life.\u201d\n
\n
\u201cShe was. And she still is.\u201d\n
\u201cWhat do you remember about her?\u201d I asked.\n
\u201cOnly her name,\u201d Edward admitted. \u201cEvelyn.\u201d\n
\u201cI\u2019ll help you find her.\u201d\n
At that moment, the realization of what I\u2019d promised struck me. Evelyn had worked at the cinema, but the manager\u2014the one who had fired her\u2014was my father. A man who barely acknowledged my existence.\n
Getting ready to face my father felt like preparing for a battle I wasn\u2019t sure I could win. I adjusted the conservative jacket I\u2019d chosen and brushed my hair back into a sleek ponytail. Every detail mattered.\n
My Dad, Thomas, appreciated order and professionalism\u2014traits he lived by and judged others for.\n
Edward waited patiently by the door, his hat in hand, looking both apprehensive and composed. \u201cYou\u2019re sure he\u2019ll talk to us?\u201d\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I admitted, pulling on my coat. \u201cBut we have to try.\u201d\n
On the way to the cinema office, I found myself opening up to Edward, perhaps to calm my nerves.\n
\u201cMy mom had Alzheimer\u2019s,\u201d I explained, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. \u201cIt started while she was pregnant with me. Her memory was… unpredictable. Some days, she\u2019d know exactly who I was. Other days, she\u2019d look at me like I was a stranger.\u201d\n
Edward nodded solemnly. \u201cThat must have been hard for you.\u201d\n
\u201cIt was,\u201d I said. \u201cEspecially because my Dad, I call him Thomas, decided to put her in a care facility. I understand why, but over time, he just stopped visiting her. And when my grandmother passed, all the responsibility fell on me. He helped financially, but he was… absent. That\u2019s the best way to describe him. Distant. Always distant.\u201d\n
Edward didn\u2019t say much, but his presence was grounding. When we reached the cinema, I hesitated before opening the door to Thomas\u2019s office.\n
Inside, he sat at his desk, papers meticulously arranged in front of him. His sharp, calculating eyes flicked to me, then to Edward. \u201cWhat\u2019s this about?\u201d\n
\u201cHi, Dad. This is my friend, Edward,\u201d I stammered.\n
\n
\u201cGo on.\u201d His face didn’t change.\n
\u201cI need to ask you about someone who worked here years ago. A woman named Evelyn.\u201d\n
He froze for a fraction of a second, then leaned back in his chair. \u201cI don\u2019t discuss former employees.\u201d\n
\u201cYou need to make an exception,\u201d I pressed. \u201cEdward has been searching for her for decades. We deserve answers.\u201d\n
Thomas\u2019s gaze shifted to Edward, narrowing slightly. \u201cI don\u2019t owe him anything. Or you, for that matter.\u201d\n
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\nEdward spoke for the first time. \u201cI loved her. She was everything to me.\u201d\n
Thomas\u2019s jaw tightened. \u201cHer name wasn\u2019t Evelyn.\u201d\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d I blinked.\n
\u201cShe called herself Evelyn, but her real name was Margaret,\u201d he admitted, his words cutting through the air. \u201cYour mother. She made up that name because she was having an affair with him,\u201d he gestured toward Edward, \u201cand thought I wouldn\u2019t find out.\u201d\n
The room went silent.\n
Edward\u2019s face paled. \u201cMargaret?\u201d\n
\u201cShe was pregnant when I found out,\u201d Thomas continued bitterly. \u201cWith you, as it turned out.\u201d He looked at me then, his cold expression faltering for the first time. \u201cI thought cutting her off from him would make her rely on me. But it didn\u2019t. And when you were born…\u201d\n
\n
Thomas sighed heavily. \u201cI knew I wasn\u2019t your father.\u201d\n
My head spun, disbelief washing over me in waves. \u201cYou knew all this time?\u201d\n
\u201cI provided for her,\u201d he said, avoiding my gaze. \u201cFor you. But I couldn\u2019t stay.\u201d\n
Edward\u2019s voice broke the silence. \u201cMargaret is Evelyn?\u201d\n
\u201cShe was Margaret to me,\u201d Thomas replied stiffly. \u201cBut clearly, she wanted to be someone else with you.\u201d\n
Edward sank into a chair, his hands trembling. \u201cShe never told me. I… I had no idea.\u201d\n
I looked between them, my heart pounding. Thomas was not my father at all.\n
\u201cI think,\u201d I said, \u201cwe need to visit her. Together.\u201d I glanced at Edward, then turned to Thomas, holding his gaze. \u201cAll three of us. Christmas is a time for forgiveness, and if there\u2019s ever a moment to set things right, it\u2019s now.\u201d\n
For a moment, I thought Thomas would scoff or dismiss the idea altogether. But to my surprise, he hesitated, his stern expression softening. Without a word, he stood, reached for his overcoat, and nodded.\n
\u201cLet\u2019s do this,\u201d he said gruffly, slipping his arms into the coat.\n
We drove to the care facility in silence. Edward sat beside me, his hands folded tightly in his lap. Thomas was in the back seat, his posture rigid, his eyes staring out the window.\n
When we arrived, the holiday wreath on the facility\u2019s door seemed oddly out of place against the surroundings.\n
Mom was in her usual spot by the lounge window, her frail figure draped in a cozy cardigan. She was staring outside, her face distant, as though lost in a world far away. Her hands rested motionless in her lap even as we approached.\n
\u201cMom,\u201d I called gently, but there was no reaction.\n
Edward stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate. He looked at her.\n
\u201cEvelyn.\u201d\n
The change was instant. Her head turned toward him, her eyes sharpening with recognition. It was as if a light had been switched on inside her. Slowly, she rose to her feet.\n
\u201cEdward?\u201d she whispered.\n
He nodded. \u201cIt\u2019s me, Evelyn. It\u2019s me.\u201d\n
Tears welled in her eyes, and she took a shaky step forward. \u201cYou\u2019re here.\u201d\n
\u201cI never stopped waiting,\u201d he replied, his own eyes glistening.\n
Watching them, my heart swelled with emotions I couldn\u2019t fully name. This was their moment, but it was also mine.\n
I turned to Thomas, who stood a few steps behind, his hands in his pockets. His usual sternness was gone, replaced by something almost vulnerable.\n
\u201cYou did the right thing coming here,\u201d I said softly.\n
He gave a slight nod but said nothing. His gaze lingered on Mom and Edward, and for the first time, I saw something that looked like regret.\n
The snow began to fall gently outside, blanketing the world in a soft, peaceful hush.\n
\u201cLet\u2019s not end it here,\u201d I said, breaking the quiet. \u201cIt\u2019s Christmas. How about we go get some hot cocoa and watch a holiday movie? Together.\u201d\n
Edward\u2019s eyes lit up. Thomas hesitated.\n
\u201cThat sounds… nice,\u201d he said gruffly, but his voice softer than I\u2019d ever heard it.\n
That day, four lives intertwined in ways none of us had imagined. Together, we walked into a story that had taken years to find its ending\u2014and its new beginning.\n
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.\n
If you enjoyed this story, read this one: The day before Christmas, everything seemed perfect until it wasn\u2019t. I found a receipt for a stunning necklace, signed by my husband, hidden in my sister\u2019s coat. Was it a gift or something far worse? Read the full story here.\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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