After forty years, the mystery finally had an answer.
Michael had not abandoned me or chosen another life.
He had been trying to return.
Rebecca continued. Michael had left me at prom to retrieve a gift and was desperate to keep his five-minute promise.
Rebecca’s grandmother knew only my first name.
She searched newspaper reports but found several girls named Giselle in nearby counties. Later, her family moved away, and she packed the boutonniere inside the cookie tin.
Each year, she promised herself she would find me once she knew more.
But time passed, and it became harder to admit she had waited too long.
After the funeral, Rebecca searched again. Then Tori mentioned a cafeteria worker named Giselle who had once spoken about prom.
That was how they found me.
At first, grief became anger.
“I deserved to know,” I said.
Rebecca nodded. “You did.”
I told her I had spent four decades wondering whether Michael had stopped loving me. I questioned every promise and every dream we had shared.
I had never married.
I had never danced with anyone else.
Rebecca’s eyes filled with tears.
“My grandmother cannot return those years to you,” she said. “Neither can I. But Michael never stopped trying to come back.”
That evening, I opened the cedar box and placed Michael’s boutonniere beside my corsage.
The flowers had spent forty years apart.
So had we.
Continue reading on the next page →
To see the full cooking instructions, go to the next page or click the Open button (>) and don't forget to SHARE it with your friends on Facebook.
