I sighed softly and set the phone down. It wasn’t anger I felt, just a quiet understanding that sometimes people only realize your worth when they see someone else value it, too.ad
That morning, our tour group gathered in the hotel lobby to exchange small gifts. Everyone had bought something from the markets: a scarf, a trinket, a little box of chocolates. David handed me a small wrapped package. “Merry Christmas, Linda,” he said with a smile. I opened it carefully. Inside was a delicate snow globe with a tiny wooden house and two figures sitting beside a Christmas tree. I looked up at him, touched. “It reminded me of you,” he said. “Someone who carries warmth wherever she goes.” For a moment, I couldn’t speak, my eyes filled with tears. “It’s perfect, David. Thank you.”ad
We spent the rest of the day wandering through the city, visiting the Grand Cathedral and walking along the river. The streets were lined with families, couples, and travelers, all celebrating in their own way. But I didn’t feel alone anymore. As the sun began to set, David and I stopped by a café for dinner. It was quiet and cozy with candles flickering on each table and carols playing softly in the background. We shared a meal, laughing about how neither of us could pronounce half the dishes on the menu. At one point, David leaned back in his chair and looked at me with that kind, thoughtful expression he always wore. “Can I tell you something, Linda?” he asked.
