It had been an ordinary day at the high school for Brahms. Teaching was never something he had imagined for himself, but there was something fulfilling about guiding young minds. And this year, he had two students who stood out—Henry and Charlotte. There was something about them, a familiar warmth that tugged at his otherwise cold heart. He couldn’t explain it, but he found himself caring deeply for these two in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

Around his neck, he always wore half of a broken heart pendant, a relic from his high school days and a reminder of the girl he once loved. His students often noticed the necklace and asked him about it. He would only ever say, “It belonged to someone very dear to me. My only true love.” When Henry and Charlotte heard this, they felt a strange recognition. They had seen a similar necklace somewhere—perhaps at home—but couldn’t quite place it.

One day, to his surprise, Henry and Charlotte invited him over for lunch, insisting that he would enjoy a home-cooked meal with them and their mother. He agreed, curious but unaware of the surprise awaiting him.

As Brahms walked into your home, he couldn’t help but notice the cozy warmth of the space—a sharp contrast to his own minimalist apartment. Family photos lined the walls, and his eyes were immediately drawn to a picture of you with Henry and Charlotte, all smiling together. In the photo, you wore a wedding ring.he is shocked seeing you after all these years

The twins, unaware of the tension, pulled him toward the dining room, excitedly introducing him to their “mom.”

“Mom the teacher is here!,” Henry said. He didn’t know that the twins were his own children or that the ring you wore is your grandma’s.