A few years after her husband died, Laura decided to move to her parents’ old apartment in Miami. But she was there only a month when her first love, Nathan, appeared on her doorstep. Their relationship was full of mystery until he simply disappeared. Finally, she was about to learn the shocking reason why.
A month ago, 78-year-old Laura took the plunge and moved to her parents’ old apartment in Miami. They bought it when they retired a long time ago, and she inherited it when they died. But Laura’s entire life was in Durham, North Carolina, so her family used it as a vacation spot for years.
She thought about moving when her husband, Charles, died six years ago, but it simply didn’t happen. Her daughter, Melissa, had just delivered her first child and Laura didn’t want to leave them. But the apartment remained in the back of her mind.
When Melissa announced her second pregnancy, Laura made her an offer. She didn’t want them to get into debt looking for a bigger house, so the older woman offered them her family house. It was big enough in case they expanded their family even more and was located in an excellent school district.
Melissa had tons of fond memories of her childhood, so she accepted immediately. “Are you sure you don’t want to live with us? This house has more than enough room for everyone,” Melissa suggested after Laura explained that she would be moving to Miami.
“Yes, darling. You guys need your space, and I need mine. Besides, that apartment has been empty for a long time, and it’s perfect for older folks. I also miss the beach like crazy. A warm beach, I mean,” Laura replied, nodding her head and patting Melissa’s shoulder.
Moving her life was hard, but she loved Miami. She was also happy that Melissa and her family would no longer pay for rent or be crippled by a mortgage as her old house was completely paid for.
Laura sat down on her balcony furniture and enjoyed the morning sun falling on her skin every day. Doctors might say that too much sunlight is harmful to your skin, but there’s something about that light and the salty smell of the sea that heals your soul. She couldn’t have been happier with the decision.
One day, she was making a nice sandwich with chips to eat for lunch when her doorbell rang. She removed her apron and went to answer it, thinking it might be her next-door neighbor who loved to gossip with her. But it wasn’t Mrs. Cardigan.
Laura’s eyes widened, and her jaw dropped when she recognized the man standing right outside her door. It was Nathan, her first love. And if she was honest with herself, he was the love of her life. Over the years, Laura sighed at the memory of him, even though she loved her husband dearly. Nathan had marked her forever.
They were both in their 20s and most people wouldn’t believe it, but their love felt like something you only read about in books. It was passionate. It was steamy. It was the stuff of legends. The downside was it was also volatile. Some would call it toxic. But Laura was in love.
Their other issue was Nathan’s mysterious nature. She knew practically nothing about his life or family, but she didn’t care, even when he often disappeared for days, weeks, and even months. That was harder to take. He dodged her questions whenever Laura brought up the subject, so she eventually stopped.
One day, Nathan left her old apartment with a smile on his face, and it was the last time she saw him. She waited for him to return and had no way to contact him. After a year of hoping, Laura decided to move on with her life. She met Charles, got married, and Nathan became a memory.
But there he was. Standing on her doorstep as if no time had passed. So many questions ran through her head while she gaped at him like a fish caught in a net. How did he find me in Miami? What is he doing here? Does he think we’re still 20 that he can just appear out of thin air? What does he want?
Finally, Nathan broke the silence. “Hey, Laura. How are you?”
“Hey? It’s been more than 50 years, Nathan. Why are you here? How did you find me?” she asked in a huff. She couldn’t believe Nathan had the gall to sound so carefree after all this time.
“I know. I want to explain everything. But will you let me in?” he wondered and smiled his crazy smile, which still managed to make her heart skip a beat even now. His face had wrinkles, sunspots, and he couldn’t stand as straight as he once did. But he was still… Nathan. Just Nathan.
“Fine. Come in,” Laura finally answered in a huff, crossing her arms and leading him into her apartment.
“How have you been all these years?” he asked after sitting down.
“I don’t have time for chit-chat, Nathan. I want answers. Real answers this time. I haven’t forgotten how you ignored me back then and changed the subject. You either start talking now or leave,” Laura snapped, sitting down on a chair across from him with her arms still crossed.
“Ok… this is not easy. But back then, my parents didn’t want me to date anyone. When I turned 20, they told me that they had arranged a marriage for me with the daughter of one of their wealthiest friends. But I didn’t want it. I only pretended. I fell in love with you. But I knew they would disapprove,” Nathan revealed with a huge sigh.
Laura’s mouth dropped open for the second time that day, and Nathan continued his story. “Whenever I disappeared, I was with her. Kiara. She liked to travel. She was so demanding. But I always returned to you.”
“Until the last time. I waited for a year, Nathan. I waited for you,” Laura hissed, getting emotional. She couldn’t believe Nathan had someone else. “And you were cheating on me the entire time.”
“I wasn’t! I swear I wasn’t! What I had with her was NOT romantic at all. I didn’t even hold her hand. She knew I didn’t want the arranged marriage all along, but Kiara forced my attention and my time. If I didn’t comply, she might have told my parents about you, and it would’ve been bad for you,” Nathan retorted, frustrated.
Laura thought about his words. She didn’t want to believe him, but he sounded genuine. “Ok… so why didn’t you return for such a long time?” she asked quietly.
“That year was hectic. I was graduating. My father got me a major internship, and Kiara started to plan our wedding. It was all so complicated. I couldn’t see you. But then, Kiara died in a car accident and the situation became even more complex. But I let some time pass. I helped her parents out because they thought I was her fiancé, and I went back to you as soon as I could,” he finished, looking down as if he couldn’t hold his head up after revealing everything.
“Oh, wow. I’m sorry. I mean, I wouldn’t wish harm on anyone,” Laura commented but remembered something he said. “What do you mean ‘returned?’ When did you return?”
“One day, I went to your house, and I saw another man there with you. I didn’t know what he meant to you, but I knew I couldn’t show up and ruin it after all that time. I went to your house every day for a month, and he was always there, so I stopped going. I heard you two got married at some point,” Nathan explained.
“Yeah, that was my late husband, Charles.”
“My condolences.”
“What happens now?” Laura asked, raising her eyebrows in question.
“I don’t know. I hoped to explain everything to you, and maybe we could start a friendship,” Nathan suggested.
“How did you find me all the way here?”
“I moved down here in my 30s. I’ve been here since. I never had any family. After losing you, I couldn’t fall for anyone else. Kiara’s death also haunted me. It was tough. But around 20 years ago, I saw your parents walking around. I found out where they lived and hoped to see you at some point. When they died, I noticed that you didn’t sell the apartment, so I continued waiting,” Nathan continued.
Laura couldn’t believe those words. Nathan never got married or had children. And he had been waiting for her to come here for more than 20 years. “Would you like a sandwich, Nathan?” she offered, changing the intense subject.
Soon enough, Nathan started coming over every day. At first, they were only friends. They chatted about everything under the sun. But at some point, they couldn’t deny their feelings any longer. No matter how much time had passed, their love never ceased. It was like a candle that only needed to be relit to burn bright.
Man Rented His Apartment to a Sweet Old Couple – When They Moved Out, He Was Shocked By What He Found Inside
Man Rented His Apartment to a Sweet Old Couple – When They Moved Out, He Was Shocked By What He Found Inside
When I first rented my apartment to Hans and Greta, a sweet old couple with warm smiles and charming accents, I thought I’d found the perfect tenants. But when they moved out, I was plunged into a mystery that would shatter my trust and lead to an unbelievable twist.
Hans and Greta seemed like the sweetest couple I had ever encountered. Late seventies, gentle manners, and warm smiles that could melt the coldest heart.
Hans had a neat silver mustache that twitched when he laughed, and Greta had this kind, motherly demeanor. They spoke with curious accents that I couldn’t quite place, a mix of something European and quaint.
A happy elderly couple in the kitchen | Source: Pexels
“I hope this apartment will be just right for you,” I said as I showed them around.
“It’s perfect,” Greta replied with a smile. “Just like home.”
They moved in smoothly, and for the entire year they stayed, there were no issues at all. They paid their rent on time, kept the place immaculate, and even left little thank-you notes when I came to check on the property.
A handsome apartment with wood floors | Source: Pexels
They’d often invite me in for tea, regaling me with stories of their adventures back in the days when they were young. It was hard to imagine a more ideal scenario.
“Thank you so much for letting us stay here, Mark,” Hans said one afternoon. “You’ve been a wonderful landlord.”
“You two have been the best tenants. If only everyone was like you,” I replied, sipping the tea Greta had made. It was chamomile, fragrant and soothing.
An elderly couple enjoying warm drinks | Source: Pexels
“Do you remember the time we got lost in the Black Forest?” Greta asked Hans, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Oh yes, that was quite the adventure!” Hans laughed. “We were young and foolish, thought we could navigate without a map.”
“Ended up spending the night in a shepherd’s hut,” Greta added, shaking her head.
However, as their lease neared its end, something strange happened. Hans and Greta, usually so calm and measured, seemed to be in a rush to move out.
Household contents being packed into boxes | Source: Pexels
They were always in a hurry, packing boxes and arranging things in a frenzy. When I asked if everything was okay, they assured me with those same warm smiles that everything was fine.
“Just some family matters,” Greta explained. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Are you sure? You both seem quite frantic,” I pressed, concerned.
Packed items being carried down stairs | Source: Pexels
“It’s all good, Mark. Just some urgent family issues. We’ll miss this place, though,” Hans said, patting my shoulder reassuringly.
The day they moved out, they handed me the keys with an extra firm handshake and an apology for their sudden departure. I wished them well, feeling a bit sad to see them go.
“Thank you for everything, Mark. We hope to see you again someday,” Greta said, giving me a gentle hug.
“Take care, both of you,” I replied, waving as they left.
A hand bearing a bunch of keys | Source: Pexels
The next day, I went to inspect the apartment, expecting to find it in the same pristine condition they had kept it. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, but what I saw made me gasp in shock.
There was no floor. The hardwood planks that had been there were completely gone, leaving only the bare concrete underneath. I stood there, stunned, trying to process what had happened.
“Where the hell is the floor?” I muttered to myself, pacing around the empty rooms.
A room with its floored stripped out | Source: Pexels
I took out my phone, snapped a photo of the empty floor, and sent them a text.
“What happened to the floor?” I asked, attaching the photo.
A few minutes later, my phone buzzed with a reply. It was from Hans.
A man studying his cell phone | Source: Pexels
“Oh dear, we are so sorry for the confusion! In the Netherlands, it is a tradition to take the floor with you when you move out. We assumed it was the same here. We were in such a rush because our granddaughter had just given birth and needed our help with the baby, and we didn’t have time to explain. We hope this hasn’t caused too much trouble. Please let us make it up to you. Come visit us in the Netherlands, and we will show you our beautiful country. With love, Hans and Greta.”
A man looking out the window, phone in hand | Source: Pexels
I read the message a couple of times, my disbelief slowly turning into a surprised grin. It was such a peculiar tradition, but it did make sense of everything. They hadn’t intended any harm; they were just adhering to a custom from their country.
The urgency in their departure was as sincere and heartfelt as they had always seemed, or so I thought.
I chuckled and replied, “I appreciate the explanation. I’ll need to replace the floor here, but no hard feelings. Maybe I will take you up on that offer to visit. Best wishes to you and your family.”
But something nagged at me. A tradition to take the floor, really? I decided to investigate further. I contacted a friend who was a private investigator and told him the whole story. He agreed to look into it.
A man inspecting documents with a magnifying glass | Source: Pexels
A week later, he called me with some shocking news.
“Mark, you won’t believe this,” he said. “Hans and Greta aren’t who they claimed to be. They’re part of a sophisticated scam targeting landlords, stealing valuable items and leaving with the impression of an innocent mistake. Those floorboards? They’re worth a small fortune.”
“What?” I retorted. “How could they do this? I checked their credentials thoroughly, everything was above board. They had valid residential visas, good credit histories, and no criminal records.”
A man listening on headphones | Source: Pexels
“They’re professionals,” my friend continued. “They move from city to city, targeting kind-hearted landlords like you. Their M.O. involves taking high-value items that can be easily sold.”
I was stunned. “I can’t believe it. They seemed so genuine, so… kind.”
“That’s how they get you,” he said. “They build trust and then take advantage of it.”
An outdoor antique market | Source: Freepik
“We’ve tracked them down,” my friend continued. “They’re planning to sell the stolen floorboards at a high-end antique market. We can set up a sting operation to catch them in the act.”
“Let’s do it,” I said, determined to see justice served.
The plan was simple. We’d catch them in the act of selling the stolen wood. My friend, posing as a buyer, approached Hans and Greta, who were busy setting up their stall with various antique items, including my floorboards.
Two men shake hands in introduction | Source: Pexels
“Excuse me,” my friend said. “I’m interested in those floorboards. They look exquisite.”
Hans smiled. “Ah, yes. Fine Dutch craftsmanship. We know because we are from the Netherlands ourselves. This is very rare, very valuable timber.”
“How much are you asking?” my friend inquired.
“For you, a special price,” Hans replied, naming a figure that made my P.I. friend’s eyes widen in surprise.
Police officers making an arrest | Source: Pexels
As the transaction was about to go through, police officers moved in, as coordinated, surrounding the stall.
“Hands up! You’re under arrest for theft and fraud,” one officer barked.
Hans and Greta looked shocked but didn’t resist as they were handcuffed and led away. I watched from a distance, feeling satisfied, but also sorrowful. How could I have misjudged the character of these people so spectacularly?
The floorboards were recovered, and they turned out to be imported wood worth a fortune. In the weeks that followed, I had the floor replaced, and life returned to normal. But I often thought about Hans and Greta, the weird, invented tradition they had conned me with, and also their seemingly unwavering kindness.
Strips of wood in a pile | Source: Pexels
A month later, I received a letter. It was from the real Hans and Greta in the Netherlands. They had had their identities stolen by the criminal gang, who had hired imposters to pose as them. They had been contacted by Interpol and made aware of the crime.
They invited me to visit the Netherlands and experience their genuine hospitality. “Dear Mark, we are so sorry for what happened. We hope you can find it in your heart to visit us and see the real Netherlands and meet its true people. With love, Hans and Greta.”
I sat back, letter in hand, contemplating the experience. Trust is a fragile thing, I thought, but also incredibly powerful when placed in the right people. Maybe one day, I would visit the real Hans and Greta and rebuild my faith in trust and humanity.
A man reading a letter | Source: Pexels
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