When I Returned from the Shops, There Was a Man Sitting on the Bench Outside My Building Whom I Had Never Seen Before

When I returned from the shops, I noticed a man sitting on the bench outside my building. I’d never seen him before. He clutched an old brown envelope in his hands. As I got closer, he looked up immediately.

“Are you Emily?” he asked.

I stopped, the shopping bag tapping against my knee. “Yes why?”

He rose slowly. He was about fifty, with greying hair and weary eyes. “I’ve been looking for you for two days.”

My heart tightened. “Why?”

He handed me the envelope. “This belongs with you.”

It felt heavy. I opened it carefully, and inside was an old photograph. Me, much younger. I was stood at a bus stop, a book in hand and a rucksack on my shoulder. I remembered that dayit was nearly twenty years ago.

“Where did you get this?” I asked.

He gave a sad smile. “From my brother.”

A pang hit my stomach. “I dont have a brother.”

“No not yours.” He nodded toward the picture. “My brother took this of you.”

I sat down on the benchmy head suddenly spinning. “Why?”

“Because he was in love with you back then.”

A silence fell. The distant rumble of cars and the bark of a dog drifted over from the street.

“I never saw him,” I said quietly.

“You did,” he replied.

“When?”

He sat beside me. “He waited every morning at that bus stop.”

I tried to recall. Cold mornings. People clutching cups of coffee. Buses. “Was there a man in a dark jacket with a camera?” he asked.

Suddenly I remembereda man who always lingered a little apart. Sometimes he’d read the newspaper. Sometimes he’d simply watch the people.

“Yes” I whispered.

He nodded. “That was him.”

I studied the photograph again. “Why give me this now?”

He paused. “My brother passed away last week.”

I clutched the picture in my hands. “And he left this?”

“Yes.” He pulled something else from the envelopea small note. I unfolded it. The handwriting was careful.

“If you ever see her, tell her she was the most beautiful thing I saw every morning.”

My eyes filled with tears.

Sometimes we pass by people who change our lives, without ever knowing, without ever remembering them.

I looked at the man beside me. “Why didnt he ever speak to me?”

He smiled sadly. “He thought you looked too happy for him to disturb.”

The silence returned. I held the photograph, trying to recall his face, but I couldnt. Sometimes the oddest feeling is realising you were someones memory, without ever knowing.

Tell me honestly

If you discovered someone had thought about you for years, without telling you, would you wish youd known sooner?