I couldn’t believe it.
Instead of confronting him, I created a fake profile using someone else’s photos and sent him a message.
To my surprise, he replied.
For the next 20 minutes we flirted. We laughed. We talked about life.
Then I asked, “Are you married?”
A minute later he sent me a photo of me.
“This is my wife,” he wrote.
My heart shattered.
Then another message appeared.
“She’s the best person I’ve ever known.”
I froze.
Why was he here?
A few seconds later he sent another photo—our wedding picture.
“I come here every year on the anniversary of the day we met.”
I stared at the screen, confused.
He continued:
“Twelve years ago, we met online. Every year I create a new account, hoping I’ll find someone who reminds me of the woman who changed my life.”
I couldn’t breathe.
Then came his final message.
“No one ever does. So when I realize they’re not her, I leave.”
My eyes filled with tears.
Before I could reply, another notification appeared.
“But tonight… something felt familiar.”
He wrote:
“The way you laugh.
The way you use too many dots…
The way you always ask questions before answering one.
It feels like I’m talking to my wife.”
I stared at the keyboard, unable to type.
Then he sent one last message.
“Basma… if this is you, come downstairs. I’ve been waiting on the porch for the last hour with your favorite flowers.”
I ran to the front door.
He was there.
Holding the same flowers he had brought on our very first date.
He smiled and said,
“I knew it was you after your third message. I just wanted to make sure we’d never stopped falling in love with each other.”
This ending is meant to be a heartwarming fictional twist rather than a realistic scenario, making it suitable for a viral-style story.
