While Preparing for My Niece’s Christening, I Met the Man of My Dreams, but I Never Expected How It Would End — Story of the Day

While preparing for my niece’s christening, I met a man different from anyone I had ever known. He was kind, thoughtful, and impossible not to like. But he had made a choice long before we met, one that stood between us. I never imagined how it would all end—or how much it would change me.

I stood in front of Sarah’s house, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. That day, we were finalizing the details for Ellie’s christening, something Sarah had been stressing about for weeks.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I rang the doorbell and waited. Nothing. I rang it again. Still nothing. Frowning, I tried the handle—it turned easily. The door was unlocked.

Stepping inside, I was immediately hit by a wall of noise. Ellie’s wails filled the house, high-pitched and relentless.

Sarah was darting back and forth, juggling bottles and stuffed animals with the frantic energy of someone running on two hours of sleep. Mark stood nearby, hands hovering uselessly as he attempted to soothe Ellie.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Silently, I slipped into the kitchen, grabbed a mug, and poured myself some coffee.

A moment later, Sarah rushed into the kitchen, her hair a mess, her face flushed. Her eyes widened.

“Oh, God! You scared me!” she gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “How long have you been standing there?”

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“A while,” I said, taking another sip of coffee.

She frowned. “You could have helped, you know.”

I leaned against the counter. “I’m here for moral support.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Just then, the doorbell rang. Sarah straightened, her whole demeanor changing. “Oh, that must be him!” she said, hurrying toward the door.

At least she heard this doorbell.

Curious, I followed her. As I stepped into the hallway, I saw a man standing at the entrance. A very attractive man. Very attractive.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Sarah smirked. “Claire, are you done with your coffee?”

“Something like that,” I said, my eyes still on him.

Sarah gestured toward him. “Then I’d like to introduce you. Claire, this is Father Nathan. He’ll be christening Ellie.”

I blinked. “Father?” I looked him up and down. No collar. No robe. “Where’s your—” I made a circle around my neck.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’m allowed to wear regular clothes,” he said, amused.

I crossed my arms. “You don’t look like a priest.”

“Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, still smiling.

“You should,” I said.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Sarah clapped her hands together. “Alright, let’s go over the details.”

We all moved into the living room. I sat at the far end, keeping my distance from the baby. She made me nervous.

All babies did. Sarah and Mark discussed the ceremony, asking Nathan about traditions and schedules. I tuned most of it out.

“So, what do you do?” Nathan asked, turning to me.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, I own an art supply store,” I said.

“You’re an artist?”

“No, but I sell materials for artists. Without me, they’d be nothing,” I said.

He laughed. A real, warm laugh.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For the first time all day, I felt seen. The meeting went on, but Nathan and I kept talking. Jokes, small talk, teasing. It felt easy. Familiar.

When we were both in the entryway, getting ready to leave, he asked, “Why aren’t you the godmother?”

“Babies scare me. And kids.”

“Oh, I understand. Me too.”

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“But you’re—”

“These will be my first christenings. I just hope I don’t forget that babies can’t swim,” he said.

I laughed. “That’s an honest answer.”

“Lying is a sin. And He sees everything,” Nathan said, pointing to the ceiling. He hesitated, then added, “I’d love to see you at church sometime.”

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I swallowed. “Oh, I wouldn’t call myself particularly religious.”

“Well, if you ever feel like it, I’ll be there,” he said.

And I don’t know why, but I listened to him.

That Sunday, I found myself sitting in a wooden pew, surrounded by families, older couples, and a few scattered individuals like me.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The church smelled of candle wax and old books. I folded my hands in my lap, unsure what to do.

Nathan spoke with ease, his voice warm, his words thoughtful. He told stories, made people laugh, yet never lost the meaning behind his sermon. People seemed to like him—and oh, how I understood why.

Nathan was impossible not to like.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

After the service, I walked toward him.

“So, you actually came,” Nathan said, smiling.

I nodded. “Yeah. It was… different. In a good way.”

“Glad to hear that. I try not to make people fall asleep.” He grinned.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Well, you kept me awake,” I said.

“Would you like some coffee or tea?” he asked.

“I’d love some,” I said, and he led me to his… office? I wasn’t sure what they were called.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

That day, we talked for hours. The conversation flowed so easily—about faith, the church, people, and life in general.

Nathan listened without judgment, spoke with honesty, and made me think in ways I hadn’t before.

I felt more comfortable with him than I had with anyone in a long time. That should have been a good thing, but it wasn’t.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He was a priest. And it killed me to know that he was a priest—that I could never have a real relationship with him.

Still, I kept coming back. Almost every day, we found something new to talk about.

One day, we sat on a park bench, the sun warm against my skin. Talking to Nathan felt easy, natural.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“You can’t get married. What would you do if you liked someone?” I asked, glancing at him.

He smirked. “I’d invite her to my services, talk to her, agree to christen her niece, and hope she leaves me alone.”

I smiled, feeling my cheeks heat up. “And if you fell in love with someone?”

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Nathan’s smile faded. He let out a slow breath. “The path I chose requires me to devote my life and love to God.”

I swallowed hard. “I could never do that.”

Nathan turned toward me. “That’s why talking to you is good for me. You challenge me. You make me question things.”

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

His eyes met mine. My heart pounded. And then, without thinking, I kissed him.

For a moment, he kissed me back. Warm. Certain. Then, suddenly, he pulled away, his face pale.

“No, this is wrong,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” He stood up and walked away.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I sat frozen, watching him disappear, feeling like I had just lost something I never really had.

The next day, my phone rang early. Sarah’s voice came through, shaky and rushed.

“Claire, he backed out! Nathan won’t do the christening. It’s tomorrow! What am I supposed to do?”

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I gripped the phone tighter. “What? Why?”

“He didn’t say. Just told Mark he couldn’t do it.”

I closed my eyes. I knew why. This was because of me. I tried to calm Sarah, but she was too upset.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

After hanging up, I went to the church. Nathan wasn’t there. No one knew where he was.

That evening, a knock at my door startled me. I opened it and froze. Nathan stood there, his expression unreadable.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Your sister gave me your address,” he said. His voice was quiet, but his eyes held something heavy.

I stepped aside. “Come in.”

He walked in, standing awkwardly in the middle of my living room. I crossed my arms. “Sarah is panicking. You need to do the christening.”

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Nathan sighed. “I already agreed. My conscience wouldn’t let me refuse.”

Relief flooded through me. “Good. Then why are you here?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking more unsure than I’d seen him. “I gave up a lot to have the life I have. Years of training, sacrifice, purpose. Then you showed up.” His eyes met mine. “And now, I doubt everything.”

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you. I pray, I work, I read, and it’s still you. It should be Him. My mind should be clear. It’s not.”

I stared at him, unable to speak. My throat tightened, my chest ached.

“Screw it,” Nathan muttered. Then, before I could react, he grabbed me and kissed me.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I kissed him back without hesitation.

He stayed the night…If you know what I mean.

By morning, I stared at the ceiling, my heart pounding. I felt warm beside him, but my mind spun.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I can’t believe you actually did this,” I said, barely above a whisper.

Nathan sat up, rubbing his face. “Neither can I.”

We both knew what this meant.

It was the day of the christening. Nathan dressed quickly, avoiding my eyes.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He muttered something about needing to be at the church early. Then he was gone.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the empty space where he had been. My heart felt heavy, but I pushed the feeling down.

I got ready, put on a simple dress, and drove to the church.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The ceremony went perfectly. Nathan spoke with warmth and confidence, his voice steady, his smile easy. No one would have guessed he was struggling.

Afterward, Sarah and Mark hosted a celebration. Laughter filled the house, food covered the table, and everyone seemed happy.

Nathan and I left at the same time. We didn’t plan it, but suddenly, we were standing outside together, alone.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The air between us was thick with unspoken words. I knew this was it. The moment I had been dreading.

“You did well today,” I said. My voice was even, but I felt unsteady.

“Thanks.” Nathan wouldn’t look at me.

I exhaled slowly. “It’s not going to be me, is it?” My voice wavered. “It’s going to be Him.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He finally met my eyes. “…Yeah.”

I let out a small, sad laugh. My vision blurred. “The funniest part of all this? I love you.”

Nathan pulled me into a tight hug, his arms lingering before he let go.

“This won’t last forever,” he murmured.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I forced a smile. “So… see you Sunday at mass?”

Nathan chuckled, though his eyes were sad. “Yeah. But seriously? You’re banned from my services for life.”

He turned, hesitated, then looked back.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I love you too.”

Then he walked away.

And that was the last time I ever saw him.

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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Businessman Loses All Hope After His Diagnosis, but One Hospital Encounter Changes Everything — Story of the Day

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“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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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Tell us what you think about this story and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

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.

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