Ten years ago, on a magical prom night, Peter made a promise to his high school sweetheart, Sally. “Ten years from now, Christmas Eve, Times Square. I promise I’ll be there,” he vowed. That night, under the glittering lights of the gymnasium, they held each other tightly, as if their embrace could defy the forces pulling them apart. Life was taking them in different directions, but their promise became a beacon of hope, a plan to reunite no matter where life led them.
A decade later, Peter stood in Times Square on Christmas Eve, his heart filled with anticipation. The city was alive with holiday lights and bustling crowds, but his eyes searched for one thing: a flash of yellow, the umbrella Sally had promised to carry. Minutes turned into an hour, and his hope began to fade. Then, a small voice broke through the noise.
“Are you Peter?”
He turned to see a young girl, no older than eight, holding a yellow umbrella. Her brown curls framed a face that looked hauntingly familiar. Her green eyes—Sally’s eyes—stared up at him with a mix of curiosity and nervousness.
“Yes, I’m Peter,” he said, his voice trembling. “Who are you?”
“My name is Betty,” she whispered. “Mom said I’d find you here.”
Peter’s heart stopped. “Mom? Sally?”
Betty nodded, her gaze dropping. “She… she’s not coming. She passed away two years ago.”
The words hit Peter like a punch to the chest. Before he could process the news, an older couple approached. They introduced themselves as Sally’s parents, Felix and his wife. They explained that Sally had discovered she was pregnant after moving to Paris. She hadn’t told Peter, not wanting to burden him while he cared for his ailing mother.
Betty tugged on Peter’s sleeve, her small voice breaking through his grief. “Before she died, Mom told me you loved her more than anything. She said you’d keep your promise.”
Peter knelt down and pulled Betty into a hug, tears streaming down his face. “I never stopped loving her,” he whispered. “And I’ll never stop loving you.”
Sally’s mother handed Peter a worn diary, its pages filled with Sally’s thoughts, dreams, and regrets. Tucked inside was a photo from prom night—Peter and Sally, smiling as if they held the world in their hands.
In the months that followed, Peter dedicated himself to building a life for Betty. He brought her to the U.S., transforming his quiet apartment into a home filled with laughter and love. Each night, he told her stories of Sally—their love, their dreams, and the strength she had passed down to her daughter.
On their first Christmas together, Peter and Betty visited Sally’s grave. A bouquet of yellow roses lay on the snow, a tribute to the love that had endured time, distance, and even death.
“Mom used to say yellow was the color of new beginnings,” Betty whispered, her small hand in Peter’s.
“She was right,” Peter said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “And she’d be so proud of you.”
As they stood together, Peter realized that while he had lost Sally, he had gained something just as precious—a part of her that would live on in Betty. In her laughter, her courage, and her love, Sally remained. And as Peter looked at his daughter, he knew their story wasn’t one of loss, but of enduring love and new beginnings.
