Elderly Man Always Bought Two Movie Tickets for Himself, So One Day I Decided to Find Out Why – Story of the Day

Every Monday, I watched an elderly man buy two tickets but always sit alone. Curiosity drove me to uncover his secret, so I bought a seat next to him. When he started sharing his story, I had no idea that our lives were about to intertwine in ways I could never have imagined.

The old city cinema wasn’t just a job for me. It was a place where the hum of the projector could momentarily erase the worries of the world. The scent of buttered popcorn lingered in the air, and the faded vintage posters whispered stories of a golden age I had only ever imagined.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Every Monday morning, Edward appeared, his arrival as steady as the sunrise. He wasn’t like the regulars who rushed in, fumbling for coins or their tickets.

Edward carried himself with quiet dignity, his tall, lean frame draped in a neatly buttoned gray coat. His silver hair, combed back with precision, caught the light as he approached the counter. He always asked for the same thing.

“Two tickets for the morning movie.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

And yet, he always came alone.

His fingers, cold from the December chill, brushed mine as I handed him the tickets. I managed a polite smile, though my mind raced with unspoken questions.

Why two tickets? Who are they for?

“Two tickets again?” Sarah teased from behind me, smirking as she rang up another customer. “Maybe it’s for some lost love. Like an old-fashioned romance, you know?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Or maybe a ghost,” another coworker, Steve, chimed in, snickering. “He’s probably married to one.”

I didn’t laugh. There was something about Edward that made their jokes feel wrong.

I thought about asking him, even rehearsing a few lines in my head, but every time the moment came, my courage vanished. After all, it wasn’t my place.

***

The following Monday was different. It was my day off, and as I lay in bed, staring at the frost creeping along the edges of the window, an idea began to form.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

What if I follow him? It isn’t spying. It is… curiosity. Almost Christmas, after all—a season of wonder.

The morning air was sharp and fresh, and the holiday lights strung along the street seemed to glow brighter.

Edward was already seated when I entered the dimly lit theater, his figure outlined by the soft glow of the screen. He seemed lost in thought, his posture as straight and purposeful as ever. His eyes flickered toward me, and a faint smile crossed his lips.

“You’re not working today,” he observed.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I slid into the seat next to him. “I thought you might need a company. I’ve seen you here so many times.”

He chuckled softly, though the sound held a trace of sadness. “It’s not about movies.”

“Then what is it?” I asked, unable to hide the curiosity in my tone.

Edward leaned back in his seat, his hands folded neatly in his lap. For a moment, he seemed hesitant, as though deciding whether or not to trust me with what he was about to say.

Then he spoke.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Years ago,” he began, his gaze fixed on the screen, “there was a woman who worked here. Her name was Evelyn.”

I remained quiet, sensing this wasn’t a story to rush.

“She was beautiful,” he continued, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Not in the way that turns heads but in the way that lingers. Like a melody, you can’t forget. She’d been working here. We met here, and then our story began.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I pictured it as he spoke: the bustling cinema, the flicker of the projector casting shadows on her face, and their quiet conversations between showings.

“One day, I invited her to a morning show on her day off,” Edward said. “She agreed.”

He paused, his voice faltering slightly. “But she never came.”

“What happened?” I whispered, leaning closer.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“I found out later she’d been fired,” he said, his tone heavier now. “When I asked the manager for her contact information, he refused and told me never to come back. I didn’t understand why. She was just… gone.”

Edward exhaled, his gaze falling to the empty seat beside him. “I tried to move on. I got married and lived a quiet life. But after my wife passed, I started coming here again, hoping… just hoping… I don’t know.”

I swallowed hard. “She was the love of your life.”

“She was. And she still is.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“What do you remember about her?” I asked.

“Only her name,” Edward admitted. “Evelyn.”

“I’ll help you find her.”

At that moment, the realization of what I’d promised struck me. Evelyn had worked at the cinema, but the manager—the one who had fired her—was my father. A man who barely acknowledged my existence.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

Getting ready to face my father felt like preparing for a battle I wasn’t sure I could win. I adjusted the conservative jacket I’d chosen and brushed my hair back into a sleek ponytail. Every detail mattered.

My Dad, Thomas, appreciated order and professionalism—traits he lived by and judged others for.

Edward waited patiently by the door, his hat in hand, looking both apprehensive and composed. “You’re sure he’ll talk to us?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“No,” I admitted, pulling on my coat. “But we have to try.”

On the way to the cinema office, I found myself opening up to Edward, perhaps to calm my nerves.

“My mom had Alzheimer’s,” I explained, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. “It started while she was pregnant with me. Her memory was… unpredictable. Some days, she’d know exactly who I was. Other days, she’d look at me like I was a stranger.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Edward nodded solemnly. “That must have been hard for you.”

“It was,” I said. “Especially because my Dad, I call him Thomas, decided to put her in a care facility. I understand why, but over time, he just stopped visiting her. And when my grandmother passed, all the responsibility fell on me. He helped financially, but he was… absent. That’s the best way to describe him. Distant. Always distant.”

Edward didn’t say much, but his presence was grounding. When we reached the cinema, I hesitated before opening the door to Thomas’s office.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Inside, he sat at his desk, papers meticulously arranged in front of him. His sharp, calculating eyes flicked to me, then to Edward. “What’s this about?”

“Hi, Dad. This is my friend, Edward,” I stammered.

“Go on.” His face didn’t change.

“I need to ask you about someone who worked here years ago. A woman named Evelyn.”

He froze for a fraction of a second, then leaned back in his chair. “I don’t discuss former employees.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“You need to make an exception,” I pressed. “Edward has been searching for her for decades. We deserve answers.”

Thomas’s gaze shifted to Edward, narrowing slightly. “I don’t owe him anything. Or you, for that matter.”

Edward spoke for the first time. “I loved her. She was everything to me.”

Thomas’s jaw tightened. “Her name wasn’t Evelyn.”

“What?” I blinked.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“She called herself Evelyn, but her real name was Margaret,” he admitted, his words cutting through the air. “Your mother. She made up that name because she was having an affair with him,” he gestured toward Edward, “and thought I wouldn’t find out.”

The room went silent.

Edward’s face paled. “Margaret?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“She was pregnant when I found out,” Thomas continued bitterly. “With you, as it turned out.” He looked at me then, his cold expression faltering for the first time. “I thought cutting her off from him would make her rely on me. But it didn’t. And when you were born…”

Thomas sighed heavily. “I knew I wasn’t your father.”

My head spun, disbelief washing over me in waves. “You knew all this time?”

“I provided for her,” he said, avoiding my gaze. “For you. But I couldn’t stay.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Edward’s voice broke the silence. “Margaret is Evelyn?”

“She was Margaret to me,” Thomas replied stiffly. “But clearly, she wanted to be someone else with you.”

Edward sank into a chair, his hands trembling. “She never told me. I… I had no idea.”

I looked between them, my heart pounding. Thomas was not my father at all.

“I think,” I said, “we need to visit her. Together.” I glanced at Edward, then turned to Thomas, holding his gaze. “All three of us. Christmas is a time for forgiveness, and if there’s ever a moment to set things right, it’s now.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For a moment, I thought Thomas would scoff or dismiss the idea altogether. But to my surprise, he hesitated, his stern expression softening. Without a word, he stood, reached for his overcoat, and nodded.

“Let’s do this,” he said gruffly, slipping his arms into the coat.

***

We drove to the care facility in silence. Edward sat beside me, his hands folded tightly in his lap. Thomas was in the back seat, his posture rigid, his eyes staring out the window.

When we arrived, the holiday wreath on the facility’s door seemed oddly out of place against the surroundings.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Mom was in her usual spot by the lounge window, her frail figure draped in a cozy cardigan. She was staring outside, her face distant, as though lost in a world far away. Her hands rested motionless in her lap even as we approached.

“Mom,” I called gently, but there was no reaction.

Edward stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate. He looked at her.

“Evelyn.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The change was instant. Her head turned toward him, her eyes sharpening with recognition. It was as if a light had been switched on inside her. Slowly, she rose to her feet.

“Edward?” she whispered.

He nodded. “It’s me, Evelyn. It’s me.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she took a shaky step forward. “You’re here.”

“I never stopped waiting,” he replied, his own eyes glistening.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Watching them, my heart swelled with emotions I couldn’t fully name. This was their moment, but it was also mine.

I turned to Thomas, who stood a few steps behind, his hands in his pockets. His usual sternness was gone, replaced by something almost vulnerable.

“You did the right thing coming here,” I said softly.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

He gave a slight nod but said nothing. His gaze lingered on Mom and Edward, and for the first time, I saw something that looked like regret.

The snow began to fall gently outside, blanketing the world in a soft, peaceful hush.

“Let’s not end it here,” I said, breaking the quiet. “It’s Christmas. How about we go get some hot cocoa and watch a holiday movie? Together.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Edward’s eyes lit up. Thomas hesitated.

“That sounds… nice,” he said gruffly, but his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.

That day, four lives intertwined in ways none of us had imagined. Together, we walked into a story that had taken years to find its ending—and its new beginning.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: The day before Christmas, everything seemed perfect until it wasn’t. I found a receipt for a stunning necklace, signed by my husband, hidden in my sister’s coat. Was it a gift or something far worse?

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

My Husband Invited His Mistress Home for His Birthday Party – I Was Furious and Got the Ultimate Revenge

When Gwen finds strands of red hair in her bed, and red lipstick stains on her husband’s work shirts, she immediately thinks that Ryan is cheating. Then, at his birthday dinner, everything gets revealed when Ryan brings a redhead to the party. Not wanting to let it slide, Gwen works on getting her revenge.

“Gwen, why do you look so stressed?” my friend Jessica asked, her voice laced with concern.

A stressed woman with her hand on her face | Source: Unsplash

A stressed woman with her hand on her face | Source: Unsplash

We were at the grocery store, getting the final things I needed for the recipes I had been poring over. My husband’s birthday was tomorrow and we had a dinner planned at home.

I sighed, thinking of the small Ziploc bag in my handbag.

A woman opening her handbag | Source: Pexels

A woman opening her handbag | Source: Pexels

“I found this while making the bed,” I said to Jess. “Obviously, it’s not mine, and it sure as hell isn’t Ryan’s.”

I pulled out the bag. Inside was a long strand of bright red hair that I’d found in our bed.

Jessica’s eyes widened as she took the bag from me.

A woman with red hair | Source: Pexels

A woman with red hair | Source: Pexels

“Are you serious? That’s pretty damning. What did Ryan say about it? Is it not the nanny’s?” she asked.

“No, not Michelle. She has a pixie cut now because she’s going through a breakup. I haven’t confronted Ryan yet. I actually thought that it might be a fluke,” I admitted. “But then I remembered something else.”

A woman with short hair | Source: Unsplash

A woman with short hair | Source: Unsplash

“What?” she asked, waving the bag around.

“The other day, I found red lipstick on the collar of his shirt. I was so tired that I didn’t even think about it. I just washed it out and carried on with the laundry. But after finding the hair, it’s all I can think about.”

Jessica’s face hardened.

A woman wearing red lipstick | Source: Pexels

A woman wearing red lipstick | Source: Pexels

“Gwen, you don’t even wear lipstick. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

I nodded slowly. There was no point in trying to lie to myself anymore.

“I think he’s cheating on me. Other than the hair and lipstick, Ryan has been staying late at work recently, and it all just adds up to one ugly puzzle,” I said.

The silhouette of a couple | Source: Midjourney

The silhouette of a couple | Source: Midjourney

“What are you going to do about it?” she asked, picking up the red onions that I needed.

“Nothing for the moment. I know you’ll disagree, but Ryan’s birthday dinner is tomorrow and I don’t want to ruin it in case I’m wrong.”

A birthday cake | Source: Pexels

A birthday cake | Source: Pexels

I knew that I wasn’t wrong. I knew what I felt in my gut, and that was because everything just felt wrong when I thought about my marriage.

Recently, Ryan and I hadn’t been as intimate as before. We didn’t do as many date nights or anything spontaneous. I figured that it was just life being life, and that we had gotten busy with our jobs.

We argued over everything.

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

“We’re just in a rut,” I told myself when I was sweeping the house and thinking about it one day.

“Look,” Jess said. “I understand that you need to reevaluate it and look at everything, but you also need to know that you can’t let it go on indefinitely. You have two kids to worry about. So, think about them, too.”

A woman sweeping the floor | Source: Pexels

A woman sweeping the floor | Source: Pexels

The next day, as I finished up the final touches on the platters of food, my nerves were on edge. The guests started arriving for the party, and Ryan got more excited every time the doorbell rang.

“This is going to be so great, honey!” he said, walking around the house, making sure that everyone had a drink.

People holding glasses of wine | Source: Unsplash

People holding glasses of wine | Source: Unsplash

“Just call me if you need me,” I said. “I’m just going to get the canapés out.”

My husband smiled at me and nodded as he walked out.

I plastered a smile on my face, greeting everyone and giving them bites to eat.

A platter of canapés | Source: Midjourney

A platter of canapés | Source: Midjourney

Then, Ryan walked in with her.

“Honey, this is Stacy,” Ryan said, gesturing to the red-haired woman beside him. His hand was around her waist, and she batted her eyelashes at him.

Stacy smiled brightly.

A woman with red hair and red lipstick | Source: Unsplash

A woman with red hair and red lipstick | Source: Unsplash

“Hi, Gwen!” she said. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

I forced a smile. Inside, I was seething. The resemblance to the hair and lipstick was unmistakable.

“Nice to meet you, Stacy,” I said, trying to keep my face expressionless. “Make yourself at home.”

An expressionless woman | Source: Pexels

An expressionless woman | Source: Pexels

Throughout the party, I kept up the charade, mingling with guests and keeping a close eye on Stacy and my husband.

Jessica caught my eye across the room and raised an eyebrow in question.

I nodded slightly, confirming her suspicions.

People mingling | Source: Pexels

People mingling | Source: Pexels

Later, when Ryan was outside with the smokers, I approached Stacy.

“So, how do you like working with Ryan?” I asked.

Stacy beamed, her eyes lighting up.

“Oh, it’s great! He’s been such a help. And being the assistant to our boss, I get to spend a lot of time with him. I’m new to the whole thing; Jeff hired me on the fact that I needed to spend time away from the kids.”

A woman sitting at a desk | Source: Unsplash

A woman sitting at a desk | Source: Unsplash

I nearly choked on my drink.

“Wait, you’re Mr. Anderson’s assistant? And his wife?”

“Yes! It’s a small world, isn’t it?”

I smiled tightly.

A married couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash

A married couple holding hands | Source: Unsplash

“Very small,” I said. “Please, come on and take a seat; dinner will be served now.”

I served dinner methodically, with Jessica hot on my heels. I knew that she wanted to know everything.

“Not now,” I said, giving her a platter of chicken wings. “Later, I promise.”

A platter of chicken wings | Source: Midjourney

A platter of chicken wings | Source: Midjourney

The rest of the evening went off smoothly, except for the fact that Ryan and Stacy were openly flirting in front of us all.

The next morning, I went out to the hardware store and bought hidden cameras that I installed in our bedroom.

A hardware store | Source: Unsplash

A hardware store | Source: Unsplash

During dinner, I lied to him.

“Ryan, I’m going to support Jess. Charles just left her, and she needs me there,” I lied. “I’ll be gone for a day or two. I’ll take the kids, too.”

Two young boys with skateboards | Source: Pexels

Two young boys with skateboards | Source: Pexels

Ryan nodded absentmindedly, not even thinking about the fact that Jess and Charles were with us the previous night and were fine.

“Sure, take your time, honey,” he said, drinking his coffee.

A man holding a mug | Source: Unsplash

A man holding a mug | Source: Unsplash

I took the kids to Jess’s, where we were going to spend the weekend.

“Two days without you and the kids,” Jess said, making me some tea. “Ryan will definitely do something wrong.”

“I know,” I agreed. “He wouldn’t be able to resist anything.”

A woman holding a teabag | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a teabag | Source: Pexels

When I returned, the first thing I did was review the footage. And my worst fears were confirmed, right there, on tape.

I contacted a lawyer and set up a meeting with Stacy’s husband.

A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels

A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels

“Mr. Anderson,” I said on the phone. “It’s Gwen, Ryan’s wife. I need to meet you urgently. In private.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, his confusion clear.

“I’d rather we discuss it in person,” I replied.

A woman using a laptop and holding a phone | Source: Pexels

A woman using a laptop and holding a phone | Source: Pexels

“I’ll meet you in an hour,” he said.

I took my laptop to the coffee shop that we had agreed to meet at.

He was already seated, two coffees on the table and waiting.

A cup of coffee on a table | Source: Pexels

A cup of coffee on a table | Source: Pexels

“Are you okay? Is Ryan okay? He’s one of my best employees,” he said.

“Let me show you something,” I said.

I played the footage of Ryan and Stacy together.

“I can’t believe this,” he said, his voice strained. “Thank you for telling me.”

A shocked man covering his mouth | Source: Pexels

A shocked man covering his mouth | Source: Pexels

When I got home, I made dinner for my sons and waited for Ryan to come home. The moment he walked in, I confronted him with the divorce papers.

“Gwen, what’s this?” he asked, bewildered.

“I know about you and Stacy,” I said coldly. “I have proof.”

Ryan fell to his knees in the kitchen.

Divorce paperwork | Source: Pexels

Divorce paperwork | Source: Pexels

“Please, Gwen, don’t tell Mr. Anderson. Don’t leave me. I’m sorry.”

“You brought another woman into our bed. I deserve better. So much better.”

In the end, Ryan lost everything in the divorce. He was fired from his job and found it difficult to find another job.

A man holding his head | Source: Pexels

A man holding his head | Source: Pexels

“Please, take me back,” he said on the phone one evening when I was dishing out ice cream for the boys.

“I don’t want to,” I said. “I’m just done having anything to do with you.”

“I deserve a second chance,” he said. “The boys need their father.”

I left the phone on the kitchen counter and let Ryan vent away.

I didn’t care anymore.

Bowls of ice cream on a counter | Source: Midjourney

Bowls of ice cream on a counter | Source: Midjourney

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*