When a workaholic businessman receives devastating news about his health, he meets a young boy in the hospital who changes his outlook on life. Their bond grows through unexpected friendship and small acts of kindness, teaching him what truly matters—until a heartbreaking twist reshapes everything.
Andrew, 50, sat at his desk, shuffling through papers while juggling scheduling meetings with his partners.
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He didn’t hear Michael, his assistant, enter the room. Michael stood there, waiting. After a few moments, he cleared his throat.
No response. Andrew kept working, his focus sharp. Michael tried again. “Mr. Smith.” Still no answer. He repeated his name three more times.
Finally, Andrew slammed his hands on the desk and snapped, “What?”
Michael didn’t flinch. “You asked me to tell you if your ex-wife called.”
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Andrew groaned and rubbed his temples. “How many times do I have to tell you? Ignore her calls. What now?”
Michael held a notepad. “She left a message. I should warn you—it’s a direct quote. Her words, not mine.” He read from the note. “‘You pompous jerk, I will never forgive you for wasting so many years of my life. If you don’t give me back my painting, I’ll smash your car.’ That’s the message.”
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Andrew’s face turned red. “We’ve been divorced for two years! Does she not have anything better to do?”
Michael looked at him, waiting for further instructions. “Should I respond to her?”
“No! And stop taking her calls,” Andrew said. Then he paused. “Actually, tell her I threw that painting in the trash!”
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Andrew grabbed a pen and hurled it toward the wall. Michael ducked slightly, gave a polite nod, and left the room.
Moments later, Andrew’s phone rang. He frowned, picking it up.
“Andrew Smith?” a voice asked.
“Yes. Who’s calling?”
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“This is the hospital. Your test results are ready. The doctor wants to see you.”
“Can’t you just tell me now?” Andrew said, irritated. “I’m busy.”
“Sorry, sir. The doctor will explain in person.”
Andrew sighed heavily. “Fine. I’ll come in.” He hung up, shaking his head.
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Andrew rarely allowed himself the luxury of a lunch break, but this time was different. The doctor’s office was quiet, the ticking clock on the wall the only sound.
Andrew sat stiffly in a chair, his fingers tapping against the armrest. When the door opened, the doctor stepped in, his face serious. Andrew frowned, sensing bad news.
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The doctor sat across from him and spoke in a steady, measured tone, using terms Andrew didn’t understand.
Then came the word—cancer. “We need to act fast,” the doctor said.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Andrew asked, his voice sharp. “I own a company. I can’t just check into a hospital.”
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The doctor met his eyes. “Your health should come first. The company can wait.”
Andrew leaned forward. “What are my chances of getting better?”
“I can’t promise anything,” the doctor said. “Starting treatment right away is critical.”
Andrew’s voice rose. “Can I still work while I’m here?”
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“Treatment affects everyone differently,” the doctor explained. “You will stay in the hospital so we can monitor you. Someone can bring you a computer.”
Andrew frowned and stood up. “Fine. I’ll sort it out.”
The doctor watched him leave. “We’ll see you tomorrow with your things,” he said before Andrew reached the door.
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As Andrew walked through the hospital’s pediatric wing, he noticed a boy, about eight years old, tossing a ball back and forth with a nurse.
The sound of their laughter echoed in the corridor. The ball suddenly rolled across the floor and stopped near Andrew’s feet.
“Excuse me, sir!” the boy called out, smiling. “Can you please throw the ball back?”
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Andrew picked up the ball, his face tense. Without a word, he hurled it down the hall, far from the boy and nurse, then turned and walked away.
“That was mean, sir!” the boy shouted.
Andrew had been in the hospital for days that felt like weeks. He tried to keep working, setting up his laptop and pushing through meetings.
But the treatment was draining. Each session left him weaker. The nausea was constant, and sleep was nearly impossible.
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One afternoon, during another long chemotherapy session, Andrew leaned back, his eyes half-closed. He felt miserable.
Suddenly, a small voice broke through his fog. He opened his eyes to see a boy standing in front of him. Startled, Andrew flinched. The boy giggled. It was the same boy from the corridor.
“What do you want, kid?” Andrew mumbled, not even lifting his head.
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“I’ve been walking around the hospital looking for someone to play with. It’s boring here.”
Andrew glanced at him, annoyed. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Tommy,” the boy replied with a wide grin.
Andrew sighed. “Listen, Tommy. I’m not in the mood to play. Go bother someone else before I start feeling worse.”
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Tommy didn’t move. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small peppermint candy. He held it out to Andrew. “This helps with nausea. You should try it.”
Andrew hesitated, then snatched the candy and set it on the table.
“You’re really grumpy!” Tommy said, laughing. “I’m going to call you Mr. Grouch. Are you mad because you’re scared of needles?” He pointed at the IV attached to Andrew’s arm.
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Andrew frowned. “I’m not scared of anything.”
Tommy nodded. “That’s fine. I was scared at first too, but then I stopped. My mom says I’m a superhero. Do you have a superpower?”
“No,” Andrew said, his voice flat.
“That’s because you’re too sad,” Tommy replied, his tone serious now.
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Andrew looked at the boy, surprised by the honesty in his big, bright eyes. “Is there anything you want?” Andrew asked.
Tommy grinned. “Yeah. I want to buy flowers for my mom. She works really hard, but I don’t have any money.”
Andrew sighed again, reached for his wallet, and pulled out a few bills. “Here. Get your flowers. Maybe buy yourself something too. But leave me alone.”
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Tommy’s face lit up. “Thanks, Mr. Grouch!” He ran out, clutching the money, while Andrew stared at the peppermint candy on the table.
With a sigh, he picked it up, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth. To his surprise, the sharp sweetness helped ease the nausea. It wasn’t much, but it made a difference for a while.
That evening, as Andrew stared at his laptop, a nurse knocked on his door.
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She carried a small paper bag. “This is for you,” she said, placing it on the table. “Tommy sent it.”
Andrew opened the bag and found it full of peppermint candies. He shook his head, unsure whether to feel amused or moved.
The next morning, he decided to find Tommy. He needed to make one thing clear: the money wasn’t a gift.
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As he approached Tommy’s room, he saw a woman leaning against the wall, her shoulders shaking. She was crying.
“Are you okay?” Andrew asked, his voice low.
The woman wiped her eyes quickly and looked up. “Yes… Did you need something?”
“Tommy gave me some candies yesterday,” Andrew said.
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The woman’s lips curved into a small smile. “Oh, so you’re Mr. Grouch,” she said.
Andrew raised an eyebrow. “My name’s Andrew,” he replied.
“I’m Sara,” she said. “Are you here for treatment too?”
Andrew nodded.
“Then you understand,” Sara said quietly. “The bills, the stress. I can’t even pay rent right now. They told me we’ll be evicted in two months.”
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Andrew nodded again, unsure of what to say. Before he could respond, the door burst open. Tommy ran out, his face lighting up when he saw Andrew. “Hey, Mr. Grouch!” he called, grinning ear to ear.
From that day forward, Tommy became a constant presence in Andrew’s life.
The boy would wander into Andrew’s room with a big grin and endless energy. At first, Andrew found it annoying, but Tommy’s persistence wore him down.
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Soon, Andrew began looking forward to the visits. Tommy taught him to notice the simple joys in life.
They sat by the window, watching the sunset, guessing the colors in the sky. They played harmless pranks on nurses, earning scolding looks and stifled smiles.
Sometimes, they “borrowed” wheelchairs and raced down the halls, laughing until their sides hurt.
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Andrew didn’t ask about Tommy’s illness. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up. One afternoon, Tommy mentioned Sara had been crying again. “She’s worried about money,” Tommy said. “We might lose our house.”
Andrew quietly gave Tommy an envelope of cash. “Tell her it’s from a magician,” he said.
When Sara tried to return the money, Andrew waved her off. “I’m not a magician,” he said. “I don’t know where it came from.”
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Weeks passed. Andrew’s treatments worked, and the day came when the doctor gave him the news—he was cancer-free.
Ecstatic, Andrew rushed to share it with Tommy. But when he arrived, Tommy was unconscious, Sara sitting beside him, tears streaming down her face.
“What happened?” Andrew asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
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Sara wiped her eyes and shook her head. “The doctors said there’s nothing more they can do.”
Andrew stared at her, struggling to process the words. “But… he seemed so happy. He always smiled. I thought he was improving.”
Sara looked at him, her face full of pain. “He didn’t want you to see how sick he was. He wanted to be strong for you. He thought he was a superhero.”
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Andrew’s chest tightened. “I’m so sorry.”
Sara managed a faint smile through her tears. “Don’t be. He said you saved him. These months, you gave him laughter and hope. You made him forget about being sick.”
Andrew shook his head slowly. “No. He’s the one who saved me.”
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He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug. She cried quietly against his shoulder, and though Andrew wished he could take her pain away, he knew nothing would ever truly ease it.
That night, Tommy passed away peacefully, surrounded by the love of his mother and the memories he had made.
Andrew sat alone in his room afterward, overwhelmed by the loss. Andrew couldn’t bear the thought of such a bright soul being forgotten.
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Determined, he started a foundation in Tommy’s name to help sick children, ensuring his kindness would live on.
He also stayed in touch with Sara, offering her support in every way he could.
One afternoon, Andrew stood at his ex-wife’s door, holding the painting she had demanded for so long. She opened the door, her mouth ready to hurl accusations, but Andrew silently handed her the painting.
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“I’m not here to argue,” Andrew said, his tone calm as he held out the painting.
His ex-wife frowned, puzzled. “What is this supposed to mean?” she asked.
“Nothing important,” Andrew replied, a small smile forming. “I’m just making sure I keep my superpowers.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Taking care of Mom was hard enough without the tension with my sister. Accusations flew when precious things started disappearing. I thought I knew who was to blame, but the truth shattered my world. Betrayal came from where I least expected, leaving me questioning everything—and everyone—I trusted.
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.
Mark Zuckerberg Suffered a Serious Injury, and His Wife Never Left His Side
Zuckerberg has recently shared pictures of himself in a hospital bed, causing concern among fans and showing that he underwent quite a serious surgery. The Instagram post doesn’t provide details about the cause and timing of the surgery, but the billionaire did reveal that he had to give up something significant because of this medical procedure.
He really made jiu-jitsu a big part of his life, just like his business “stuff”.
Mark Zuckerberg’s unexpected foray into Brazilian jiu-jitsu has sparked widespread interest, shedding light on a facet of the tech magnate that extends beyond the digital realm. The co-founder of Facebook, set to reach the milestone of 40 years in May 2024, unveiled his newfound passion for martial arts that took root in August 2022.
Beyond the confines of Silicon Valley and the tech domain, Zuckerberg seems to have discovered an alternative arena where he can challenge himself and partake in a mode of self-expression that transcends the world of code.
The choice of Brazilian jiu-jitsu, a martial art known for its emphasis on technique and leverage, reflects Zuckerberg’s inclination towards a discipline that demands not only physical prowess but also strategic thinking. It’s a departure from the stereotypical image of a tech titan, underscoring the multifaceted nature of individuals and their pursuits.
“To some degree, MMA is the perfect thing because if you stop paying attention for one second you’re going to end up on the bottom,” the CEO of Meta said.
He is also a champion.
In a surprising turn of events at his inaugural Brazilian jiu-jitsu tournament in Redwood City, California, Zuckerberg achieved remarkable success by clinching gold and silver medals. This unexpected triumph sent ripples through the martial arts community, garnering attention and admiration from a broader audience.
Zuckerberg took to social media, particularly Instagram, to share the exhilarating news with his vast following of 11.3 million. Accompanying the announcement were captivating photos capturing moments of victory, as he posed alongside his coaches and engaged in ground battles with formidable opponents.
In his Instagram post, Zuckerberg humbly captioned the achievement, stating, “Competed in my first jiu-jitsu tournament and won some medals,” accompanied by emojis depicting a gold and silver medal. He graciously acknowledged the crucial role of his three trainers, tagging them in the post and expressing gratitude for their guidance.
Mark even put an octagon in his garden, and his wife was not very happy about it.
Mark Zuckerberg has taken his martial arts training to the next level, and it seems like it’s causing a bit of a stir at home. The Facebook and Meta founder recently revealed on social media that he installed a fighting cage, a UFC octagon, in his backyard. His excitement was evident as he shared a screenshot of his conversation with his wife, Priscilla Chan, asking if she had seen the new addition and commenting on how awesome it looked.
However, Chan’s response was less enthusiastic. She mentioned that she had been working on the grass in the backyard for two years, indicating that the sudden appearance of a fighting cage wasn’t exactly part of her landscaping plans.
Not one to shy away from public opinion, Zuckerberg decided to let his followers have a say in the matter. He posted a poll, asking whether he should keep the cage or prioritize preserving the grass.
This unconventional backyard setup is not just a personal whim but seems to be connected to the ongoing banter between Zuckerberg and Tesla founder Elon Musk. The two tech titans have been playfully challenging each other to a cage match, with Musk even suggesting that their fight could be live-streamed on X, with all proceeds going to charity for veterans.
In the midst of this lighthearted exchange, Musk shared that he’s preparing for the showdown by lifting weights throughout the day, showcasing a commitment to the bout that goes beyond mere words.
As the anticipation for this unconventional clash between tech giants builds, it’s clear that for Zuckerberg and Musk, this fight is more than just a physical contest, combining competition with a charitable cause.
An unexpected injury resulted in him missing a crucial competition.
Zuckerberg has recently undergone surgery following an ACL injury that occurred during mixed martial arts (MMA) training. The co-founder of Facebook shared this information through an Instagram post, where he mentioned, “I tore my ACL (anterior cruciate ligament) sparring and just got out of surgery to replace it.”
In the post, Zuckerberg also disclosed that he had been training for a competitive MMA fight scheduled for early next year but acknowledged the delay caused by the injury. Despite this setback, he expressed optimism, stating, “Still looking forward to doing it after I recover.” The Instagram post included several photos taken at an undisclosed hospital, capturing moments before and after the surgery, with his wife Priscilla Chan offering support during the recovery process.
Priscilla Chan was there every step of the way, wiping Mark’s forehead and helping him with his slides after his recent surgery. It’s a touching testament to the unwavering support and care she brings to their marriage. Their connection goes beyond the challenges, resonating in their love for their children and their shared commitment, even to tasks as humble as being janitors.
Mark and Priscilla’s promise of an annual honeymoon is a simple yet powerful tradition that underscores their dedication to keeping their relationship strong amid the hustle of their busy lives.
This story isn’t just about Zuckerberg’s surgery or their unique honeymoon ritual. It’s a peek into the personal lives of influential figures, revealing universal themes of love, commitment, and the crucial role of being there for each other through thick and thin. It’s a reminder that even tech giants have personal moments that reflect the fundamental aspects of human connection.
Mark Zuckerberg is a true fighter in real life, just as he battled to win his wife’s heart and make her fall in love with him.
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