The Pizza Delivery Guy Brought Me Free Pizza Every Saturday, Until One Day I Saw a Note on the Box Saying, “I Know What You Did 50 Years Ago” — Story of the Day
Every Saturday, a mysterious pizza arrived at my door, a bright spot in my lonely life. I lived alone with my cat, Oliver, working past retirement age to survive. The deliveries, always at six, were unpaid by me, and the delivery guy, Ryan, brought warmth with his jokes. I grew to cherish these moments.
One stormy Saturday, Ryan didn’t show. Worried, I called the pizzeria, learning he was fine but had quit. The next week, a new driver delivered a pizza with a chilling message: “I know what you did 50 years ago.” My buried secret—giving up my daughter for adoption—resurfaced.
Desperate, I visited the pizzeria. A worker revealed Ryan paid for the pizzas and gave me his address. At his home, I confronted him. He admitted knowing my secret: his mother, Claire, was my daughter. He’d sent the pizzas to help me, but my denial of children hurt him.
Tears fell as I confessed my regret for giving Claire up, thinking it was best. Ryan said she wanted to meet me. Overwhelmed, I asked to hug him. He called me “Grandma,” and for the first time in fifty years, I felt I might not be alone.
