“That doesn’t change that you agreed to it first,” I shot back, my voice shaking. “Because you were tough!” Frank said, then softened. “Or I thought so.
I heard how you picked on Sarah, always telling her what to do. But I was no better—grumpy, closed off, bitter. You changed me, Helen.
You made me feel alive again. You reminded me how to enjoy the little things.”
I paused, his words cutting through my anger. “Why should I believe you?” I asked, quieter now.
Frank stepped closer, his eyes steady. “Because I’ve fallen for you, Helen. For the picky, bossy, always-right woman who cares so much, who cooks meals that feel like home, and who knows all my favorite songs by heart.
I love you—all of you.”
Tears filled my eyes, his words hitting deep. The truth was clear—I’d fallen for him too. No matter how mad I was, my heart wouldn’t let me walk away.
He reached out, gently wiping a tear from my cheek. “I’m sorry for hurting you. Please, give me another chance.”
I nodded slowly, easing up.
“Alright,” I said softly. “But you’re keeping that record player from Sarah. We’ll need it for our music.” Frank laughed, relief and joy spreading across his face.
From that Thanksgiving on, Frank and I were inseparable. Each year, we celebrated with music from that record player, our love growing stronger with every song.
