Growing up, I was surrounded by love. My parents gave me everything from bedtime stories to birthday parties and I felt like the luckiest only child alive. But at ten, my world shattered when they died in a car accident. My grandparents stepped in, wrapping me in warmth that kept me whole despite the loss.

Their love filled the silence my parents left behind. Grandpa took me on adventures, and Gran read me to sleep, building a new life together. When Grandpa passed a few years later, Gran stayed strong for both of us. We became more than family; we were a team. Her strength shaped the woman I was becoming.

Then I met Noah. Sweet, kind, thoughtful he was everything. But Gran wasn’t thrilled. She wanted me to focus on my studies, not a relationship. So, I backed off from sharing too much about him with her. Noah respected that, saying, “She just wants the best for you.” He never complained just loved me quietly.

One day, I saw Gran getting into Noah’s car. Shocked, I followed them straight to a cozy restaurant where they laughed like old friends. Turns out, Noah had been secretly taking her to lunch every Thursday, just like Grandpa used to. “She told me she hadn’t been this happy in years,” he said. I cried grateful, overwhelmed, and in awe of a love that went beyond me.