Night-shift nurse Alex finds purpose beyond routine when he learns of his elderly patient George’s single regret—a love lost at sea. Teaming up with his friend Kate, Alex embarks on a heartfelt search for George’s long-lost love, uncovering life’s hidden truths about timing, courage, and second chances.
The quiet night felt like a rare gift, though Alex wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. His shifts usually kept him running, but tonight the halls were hushed, the patients asleep, and his duties light.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The dimly lit corridor stretched ahead as he texted his friend and roommate, Kate. She was his go-to for everything—from sharing funny moments to venting on tough days.
They’d been schoolmates once, but only last year, when they both responded to the same apartment listing, had they finally gotten to know each other. Living in neighboring units had transformed them from casual acquaintances into close friends.
Just as Alex was sending Kate a sticker of a yawning cat, a nurse approached him. “Alex, George is asking for you,” she said with a warm smile.
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“Thanks,” Alex replied, slipping his phone into his pocket and heading toward George’s room. George was 88 but brimming with energy, more vibrant than many half his age.
George also had a wealth of stories, having worked as a sailor in his youth. As Alex entered, he found the old man eagerly shuffling a deck of cards, his face lighting up at the sight of his visitor.
Alex pulled a chair close to George’s bed and sat down, eyeing the deck of cards in George’s hands. “Couldn’t find anyone to play with?” he asked, smiling.
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“Everyone turned me down. Can you believe it?” George replied, shaking his head with a grin.
“Well, it’s 2 a.m., so I get it,” Alex said, settling in. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep?”
George shook his head. “I just can’t fall asleep.”
“I could ask the doctor to prescribe something,” Alex offered.
George chuckled. “Alex, I’m 88. I’ve had more than enough sleep in my life.”
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Alex laughed and took the deck, shuffling it. He dealt the cards, and they played quietly for a while. Then, George laid down a card and glanced up, his expression shifting.
“Dr. Martinez told me I only have a few months left,” George said softly.
Alex’s heart sank. He saw patients face death often, but it was never easy, especially with George. “Oh…”
George smiled gently. “It’s okay. I’m ready. I’ve had a long, full life. No regrets—well, except one.” His voice drifted off, eyes distant.
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“What’s that?” Alex asked, leaning forward.
“There was someone I loved. We met on a ship, but we had to say goodbye.”
Alex raised an eyebrow. “I thought women were bad luck on ships.”
George chuckled. “His name was David Smith.”
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“That’s…unexpected,” Alex said, smiling. “Did you ever try to find him?”
“No. It’s been too long. I doubt he remembers me,” George replied.
“You never know,” Alex said, just as George laid down his last card.
“Looks like you lost,” George announced, grinning with triumph.
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Alex laughed, already reaching to shuffle the deck for another round.
When Alex got home in the morning, he found Kate leaning sleepily against the kitchen counter. She was still in her pajamas, sipping coffee slowly. Working from home meant she rarely rushed.
“Hey, how was your shift?” Kate asked, rubbing her eyes.
“George got some bad news,” Alex replied, setting his bag down. “He found out he only has a few months left.”
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“Oh no, that’s so sad.” Kate’s face fell. “I like George.”
Alex nodded, knowing how much Kate cared. She’d met some of his patients before when she volunteered. George especially liked her and often teased Alex, asking why he hadn’t asked her out.
Alex usually brushed it off. He’d had a crush on Kate back in high school, but now they were just friends. Dating might make things complicated, especially since they were roommates.
“George told me his only regret is not being with his true love,” Alex said. “I want to find him. Will you help?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Kate’s eyes lit up. “A love story? I’m in!” She poured herself more coffee with a grin.
In the days that followed, Alex and Kate worked together to find all the Davids with the last name Smith. After hours of searching, they managed to narrow it down to six possible matches.
“That’s still a long list,” Alex said, scanning the names.
“Are you kidding?” Kate replied, laughing. “When we started, it felt like there were a million Davids out there. Now we’re down to just six!”
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“A million, huh?” Alex teased, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, close to that,” Kate said, chuckling. They shared a smile, enjoying the rare moment of progress.
“We can start visiting them on weekends,” Alex suggested. “It’ll be easier when I don’t have work.”
“Sounds good to me,” Kate agreed, nodding. Just then, her phone buzzed, and a wide smile spread across her face.
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“Did you win the lottery?” Alex asked, watching her reaction.
“No, it’s Troy. We met at a conference,” Kate explained. “He just asked me out. I think he likes me.”
Alex paused. “And do you like him?”
“Maybe,” Kate said, grinning as she walked to her room, phone in hand. Alex watched her go, feeling a strange pang he couldn’t explain.
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For the next two weeks, Alex and Kate met with four Davids, but none turned out to be George’s long-lost love.
David #1, a cheerful older man, was happily married with kids, grandkids, and even great-grandkids. David #2, a spry gentleman, was engaged to a woman three decades younger, a detail Kate and Alex found surprising.
When they tried to meet David #3, they discovered he had passed away years ago. Finally, David #4, who claimed he had sailed many seas, eventually admitted he’d never actually set foot on a ship.
After each visit, they sat with George, sharing each David’s story. He listened quietly, nodding along but showing no spark of recognition.
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“Just give it up. It’s hopeless,” George muttered, his voice tired.
“Nothing’s hopeless when it comes to love,” Kate replied firmly. “And we still have two Davids left. One of them has to be yours.”
George looked away, sighing. “What if it’s David #3—the one who’s already passed?” His cough grew rougher, a reminder of his weakening health.
“Come on, George, don’t be so pessimistic,” Alex said gently, patting his arm.
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The next week, Alex and Kate set off to meet David #5, a fisherman living by the docks.
“I have a good feeling about this one,” Kate said as they drove.
“Oddly, so do I,” Alex replied, smiling.
When they finally met David #5, Alex and Kate learned he had, in fact, been on the same ship as George at the same time.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Do you remember him?” Alex asked hopefully. “He was kind, maybe a bit of a pessimist, and he was really good at cards.”
Kate jumped in, adding, “Oh, and you were in love with him!”
David #5 looked at them, shaking his head with a slight smile. “Sorry, but no. Doesn’t ring a bell.”
Kate’s face fell. “Well, that’s disappointing.”
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Seeing their letdown, David #5 offered, “How about I treat you both to lunch for your trouble?”
Kate brightened. “I’d love that! I’m starving.”
“I know just the spot,” David #5 said, smiling as he led them out of his house.
As they walked, Alex noticed Kate pulling her sweater tighter, shivering a bit. He remembered how he’d reminded her to bring a warmer coat, but instead of saying anything, he slipped off his jacket and gently draped it over her shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye, Alex saw David #5 watching them, a small, knowing smile on his face.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“You two make a lovely couple,” David #5 said.
“Oh…no…no,” Alex stammered, his face turning a bit red.
“We’re just friends,” Alex and Kate replied at the same time, exchanging a quick, awkward glance.
After lunch with David #5, they headed home, feeling tired.
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“It’s a shame he wasn’t the one,” Alex said. “I really thought he was.”
“Or maybe he just isn’t brave enough to say it,” Kate replied thoughtfully.
Alex headed out alone to meet David #6, feeling a bit strange without Kate by his side. She was out with Troy, so it was just him for this visit.
David #6 greeted Alex with a bleary gaze; it didn’t take long to realize the man struggled with alcohol and couldn’t remember much of anything, let alone George. As Alex was about to leave, his phone buzzed—a message from a nurse.
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George was in critical condition and might not have long. Without hesitation, Alex texted Kate: “David #6 is a no-go. Heading to the hospital; George is in bad shape.”
He didn’t expect a reply, knowing Kate was likely still on her date with Troy. But as he arrived at the hospital, he spotted her standing by the entrance, arms crossed and eyes searching for him.
“Kate?” he asked, surprised. “I thought you were out with Troy.”
She nodded, a soft, determined look in her eyes. “I was, but George needs us. I couldn’t stay away.”
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Together, they hurried down the quiet hospital hallways toward George’s room. Just outside, they spotted David #5, sitting with his head down, lost in thought. Kate stopped, placing a gentle hand on Alex’s arm.
“I think it’s best if you talk to him alone,” she whispered. “My excitement might make him back away again.”
Alex nodded, understanding. He approached David #5, who looked up with weary eyes as Alex sat beside him. David shifted uncomfortably.
“I can’t bring myself to go in there,” he confessed. “I thought I could do it, but… it’s hard.”
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“You’ve waited so long already,” Alex replied quietly. “Why not now? You had the chance to tell us before, but you held back.”
David sighed, looking at his hands. “I’ve spent so many years hiding this part of me. It’s not easy to change.”
“It’s better late than never,” Alex said gently. “He’s right there, on the other side of this door. Just a few steps away. Isn’t it worth taking that chance now?”
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After a long pause, David nodded and slowly stood, facing the door. Before he went in, he looked at Alex and nodded toward Kate, who stood watching, her eyes misty. “Take your own advice, Alex. You still have time.”
David slipped into the room, leaving Alex standing with Kate. Seeing her eyes filled with emotion, Alex realized the truth in David’s words. He walked over to her, his heart racing.
“Kate, I—” he began, but she stepped forward and kissed him. Surprised but relieved, Alex wrapped his arms around her, knowing that some things in life were worth the risk, no matter the complications.
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My husband hired someone to teach me how to clean and cook – he wasn’t pleased with how I got back at him
I was floored when my husband, Jeff, brought in a maid to “teach” me how to cook and clean like the ideal wife. Rather than push back, I played along. What Jeff didn’t see coming was the lesson I had in store for him — one that would turn his perfect plan topsy-turvy.
I’m Leighton, 32, juggling a full-time job, a chaotic household, and a 34-year-old husband who’s lately become an expert on what a “perfect wife” should be.
Jeff and I both work demanding jobs: he’s in finance, constantly stressed about quarterly reports, while I’m in marketing, which means my brain is fried by the time I get home. You’d think we’d cut each other some slack, but lately, Jeff’s expectations have been through the roof.
It all started after that infamous dinner at his boss Tom’s place. Tom’s wife, Susan, greeted us with this warm smile, wearing a perfectly pressed dress that probably cost more than my rent in college. Her house? Spotless. Not a speck of dust, not a misplaced throw pillow.
And don’t get me started on the five-course meal she whipped up as if she’d been born holding a spatula. Jeff couldn’t stop gawking.
“You see how Susan keeps everything in order? Dinner’s ready the minute Tom gets home,” Jeff had said on the drive back, his voice dripping with admiration. “You could take a few pointers.”
I bit my tongue, staring out the window to avoid rolling my eyes but Tom wasn’t done yet. “Why don’t you try a little harder? I mean, how difficult can it be to keep things clean when you get home before me?”
The comparisons didn’t stop. Every day was a new critique. “Susan keeps her house spotless. Susan has time to make fresh pasta from scratch. Susan always looks put together.”
He’d say this while tossing his dirty clothes two feet from the laundry basket or leaving his dishes right where he finished eating.
One evening, he came home and immediately started inspecting the house like some kind of drill sergeant. He ran his finger along the windowsill and frowned. “You missed a spot. Are you even trying?”
I glanced up from my laptop, barely containing my frustration. “Seriously, Jeff?”
He shrugged. “I’m just saying, maybe you could put in a little more effort. It’s not like you don’t have time.”
That was his new favorite line. Not like you don’t have time. As if my workday and commute weren’t as draining as his. But the final straw came one Friday night.
I walked in, dreaming of a hot shower and some rest, but instead, I found a young woman in our kitchen. She was holding a mop and wearing an apron, her eyes darting nervously around like she’d accidentally wandered into the wrong house.
Jeff stood beside her, arms crossed, with a self-satisfied grin. “Leighton, meet Marianne. She’s here to teach you how to clean and cook properly.”
I blinked, trying to process what I was hearing. “I’m sorry… teach me?”
Jeff sighed like he was talking to a stubborn child. “Yeah, honey. I’ve tried being patient, but clearly, you’re not getting it. Susan suggested I get someone to help you get up to speed. So, here we are.”
Marianne glanced at me, then at Jeff, and back at me. “I usually just… you know, clean houses,” she said softly, almost apologetic. “He offered me double if I’d show you how.”
I turned to Jeff, barely keeping my voice steady. “So, you’re paying her to teach me to clean and cook?”
He nodded, still oblivious. “Yeah. This way, you can get the hang of it properly. Marianne, don’t hold back.”
I wanted to scream. This man, who never lifted a finger, had the audacity to hire someone to teach me how to clean? I could see Marianne’s discomfort too, like she was dragged into some weird reality TV show.
I forced a smile, seething inside. “I’m sure I’ve got a lot to learn, Jeff. Thanks for looking out for me.”
Jeff left, pleased with himself, while Marianne looked like she was ready to bolt. I leaned in, lowering my voice. “Listen, I don’t need lessons. But I do have a little idea that could use some help. Are you game?”
Marianne’s face lit up, intrigued. “What do you have in mind?”
I smiled, already plotting. “Let’s just say Jeff’s about to learn a lesson of his own.”
Over the next few weeks, I gave Jeff exactly what he’d been asking for: the perfect housewife. Every day, I woke up early, made his breakfast, cleaned the house until it sparkled, and cooked elaborate dinners that looked straight out of a cooking show.
I even dressed up every evening, greeting him at the door with a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.
But I was cold as ice. I didn’t nag or complain, but I also didn’t engage. No conversations about my day, no affectionate touches, not even a casual laugh. I became the picture of domestic perfection, but I was just going through the motions. It didn’t take long for Jeff to notice something was off.
“Hey, babe,” he said one evening, hovering at the kitchen door while I prepared a three-course meal. “You’ve been quiet lately. Is everything okay?”
I barely looked up, keeping my tone polite but distant. “I’m fine, Jeff. Just busy with the house, like you wanted.”
His brow furrowed. “You don’t have to be… this dedicated. I mean, it’s great, but it’s like you’re here, but you’re not.”
I shrugged, setting the table with precision. “I’m just focusing on what you asked me to do, Jeff.”
He nodded, but I could tell he was confused. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? A perfect house, perfect meals, perfect wife. But I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of my usual warmth, and it was starting to bother him.
As the days went on, I kept up my act. Every task was done flawlessly, but our relationship? It was as cold and mechanical as a well-rehearsed performance. I knew Jeff could feel the distance between us, but he didn’t know how to fix it. And I wasn’t going to make it easy for him.
Then came the day I’d been planning for weeks. After a perfectly silent dinner, I cleared the plates and turned to him with a cheerful smile. “Jeff, we need to talk.”
He glanced up, a nervous smile twitching on his lips. “What’s up?”
I sat across from him, placing a neatly folded piece of paper on the table. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this whole ‘perfect housewife’ thing. Marianne really opened my eyes to how much work it takes to run a household like this. It’s a full-time job, honestly.”
Jeff frowned, not sure where I was going. “Uh, okay?”
“So, I’ve decided,” I continued brightly. “I’m going to quit my job and focus on this full-time.”
His jaw dropped. “You’re quitting your job?”
I nodded enthusiastically. “Yep! You wanted the house to be spotless, meals cooked from scratch, and everything just right. To do that, I need to dedicate all my time to it. But here’s the catch — I can’t do it for free.”
He blinked, baffled. “Wait, what do you mean ‘can’t do it for free?’”
I slid the paper toward him. It was a contract I’d typed up, outlining my new terms.
“If I’m giving up my career, I should be compensated. Susan doesn’t work, and Tom supports her. So, I’ll need you to pay me a salary. This is what I think is fair.”
He stared at me, his face turning from confused to outraged. “You want me to pay you? Leighton, this is absurd!”
I kept my tone sweet, but my words were laced with ice. “Oh, but it makes perfect sense. You wanted me to be a perfect wife, and I’ve been delivering. But perfection isn’t free, Jeff. If you expect me to maintain the household to your standards, I deserve compensation. And if you’re not willing to pay, that’s fine. I’ll just stop doing it.”
He gaped at me, the color draining from his face. “I never asked you to quit your job! I never wanted this.”
I leaned back, arms crossed, savoring every second. “Oh, but you did, Jeff. You wanted a house that looked like Susan’s, meals like hers, and a wife who dedicated herself entirely to domestic duties. I’m just doing exactly what you asked for. But I have my standards too, and if you want this level of dedication, it comes at a price.”
There was a long, tense silence. Jeff held the contract, his eyes fixated on the exorbitant salary. I could see the gears turning as he realized he’d dug himself into a hole he couldn’t easily climb out of.
Finally, he sputtered, “This isn’t what I meant! I work hard all day. I don’t have time to do everything around here!”
I stood up, keeping my voice calm but firm. “Exactly. And now you know what it feels like. If you’re not willing to pay me, maybe it’s time you start contributing more around the house. Or you could always hire Marianne full-time. She’s great, after all.”
I left him sitting there, flustered and speechless.
From that day on, Jeff’s attitude changed. He never agreed to pay me, of course, but he also stopped complaining. And suddenly, chores were no longer just my responsibility.
Jeff started picking up after himself, doing the laundry, and even cooking dinner a few nights a week. He never brought up Susan again, and I never saw him running a finger along the shelves in search of dust.
Turns out, when you give someone exactly what they think they want, they realize pretty quickly that the fantasy isn’t nearly as sweet as the reality. Jeff learned that the hard way, and I got the one thing I’d wanted all along: respect.
In the end, Jeff didn’t need a perfect wife; he needed a partner. And if it took hiring a maid and drawing up a fake contract to get there. Well, that was a lesson worth teaching.
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