Chapter 1
It was the third year of Jonathan's affair when I met a young college guy.
He wore a white T-shirt and faded jeans, with a rebellious look in his eyes, lips pressed into a thin line, and bangs that were just a bit too long.
He looked a lot like Jonathan when he was young, almost eerily so.
My car broke down on the side of the road, and he offered to fix it for $200.
Halfway through the repair, his phone rang.
It was the hospital calling about a bill. He held the phone, silent for a long moment, then pleaded softly, "I'm doing everything I can to get the money together. I promise I'll have it before the surgery."
"Just give me a little more time, okay?"
Standing there, I suddenly remembered the day I first found out about Jonathan's affair.
He was slumped on the couch, face buried in his hands, his voice rough. "Susan, I never meant to cheat on you."
"But she really looks just like you did when you were young, honestly."
"Whenever I see her, I can't help but think about everything you went through, and how I couldn't do anything to help you back then."
"But now I finally can. I just want to help her, to take care of her the way I wish I could've taken care of you when you were younger."
"Don't blame me, okay?"
In that moment, I suddenly stopped blaming Jonathan.
Because I finally understood him.
*****
Once the car was fixed, I got in, turned the key, and the engine purred to life. No issues at all.
He held out his phone with the payment code, gesturing for me to pay.
Just as I was about to scan it, his phone rang again.
I glanced at the screen. It was the hospital again.
He answered, "Hello?" His expression shifted in a heartbeat. "What? Okay, I'll be right there!"
Before he could get a word out, I jumped in, "Get in the car."
He paused, caught off guard.
"You're going to the hospital, right? You look pretty worried. Let me drive you."
He pressed his lips together, barely hesitated, then slid into the passenger seat.
After a moment, I heard him quietly mumble, "Thanks," almost under his breath.
I stayed silent, punched the address into the GPS, and headed straight there.
On the way, I asked him about his situation.
His name was Alex Farrell, 21, a junior in college, and he's got a little sister who's 10.
His parents died in a plane crash when he was 15.
The inheritance they left behind should've been enough for him and his sister to make it to adulthood, but some relatives snatched a big chunk of it. Then last year, his sister got hit with a heart condition.
So whatever was left disappeared in no time, and now they're buried in debt.
Before he met me today, he'd just gotten shut out by his relatives.
I asked him what he planned to do.
Alex turned his head to the window, looking surprisingly calm. He said, "These days, if you really want to make money, you'll always find a way."
When we got to the hospital, Alex didn't even wait for the car to come to a full stop before he jumped out.
He didn't even bother with the elevator. He just shoved open the fire exit and bolted up the stairs.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and glanced at the floor number for the Cardiology Department.
By the time the elevator finally arrived, I followed the signs to the ward.
The doctor had just finished an emergency and gave Alex a quick update on his sister's condition.
Not long after, the little girl in the hospital bed woke up.
Without even thinking about it, the worry on Alex's face melted into a gentle smile.
He ran his hand gently over her hair, whispered something softly, and she drifted back to sleep.
I glanced at my phone, Alex's recent friend request still on the screen. After a moment's thought, I sent him $20,000 and turned to go.
But before I could get far, Alex caught up to me.
"Wait!" He grabbed my wrist, hesitating, words stuck in his throat.
I gave him a small smile. "Relax, just take it. Call it my good deed for the day. Your sister's adorable. Hope she gets well soon."
I could tell he felt uneasy about taking the money, but life had beaten the stubbornness out of him. He mumbled, unable to bring himself to say, "I don't want it."
In the end, he just whispered, "I'll pay you back."
I waved him off and stepped into the elevator.