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.
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‘She’s on My Maintenance, I’ll Kick Her Out If She’s Not Obedient,’ My Husband Said About Me during His Celebration
When Abby loses her job, she seeks comfort in her husband, Gregor, to keep them afloat until she finds another. But while Abby assumes that Gregor will be supportive, she finds out how he really feels when they celebrate his birthday surrounded by their closest people…
I’m not usually one to share my life online, but after what happened recently, I figured my story should be shared. Let me tell you all about the time my husband tried to humiliate me in front of his friends and how I turned the tables on him in the most satisfying way.
A pensive woman in her forties | Source: Midjourney
I met Gregor when I was in my forties. I wasn’t looking for anything serious, and the marriage dream had died a long time ago for me.
“Come on, Abby,” my mother said. “It’s never too late to find someone. Don’t you just want to be married and settle down?”
I shook my head.
In reality, I did want that, but after a toxic relationship in my thirties, I was done thinking about it all. I didn’t want that anymore.
A couple arguing | Source: Midjourney
But then, I met Gregor and we hit it off right away. He was charming, thoughtful, and genuinely seemed to care about me.
“I’ve waited my entire life for you, Abby,” Gregor said when he showed up at my house with a bouquet of roses and an engagement ring tucked away in his palm.
Our first year of marriage felt like one long honeymoon. We traveled together, laughed together non-stop, and truly enjoyed each other’s company.
A man holding a bouquet of roses | Source: Midjourney
It seemed that we just belonged together.
Gregor was successful in his career, working as an executive at a well-known firm, while I was also doing well in my own career. I worked for a marketing company and I really loved my job.
Life was good, and I felt like I had it all.
A smiling couple in their forties | Source: Midjourney
“I told you, Abby,” my mother said one day when I went to visit her with ingredients to make dumplings.
“I know,” I chuckled. “I should have listened. But I’m happy now, and I think I finally got it right.”
“It’s all going to be fine,” my mother said. “As long as you’re happy.”
A plate of dumplings | Source: Midjourney
But then life threw a curveball.
The company I worked for went bankrupt, and just like that, I was out of a job.
It was a blow, not just financially, but also to my confidence. I was good at my job, but there was just something about being unable to do it that made me feel like I wasn’t good enough.
A close up of an upset woman | Source: Midjourney
“It’s going to be okay,” I told myself as I sat at my desk for the last time. We had all been called in to pack up our belongings and just say goodbye.
But deep down, I knew that although I prided myself on my independence and hated the idea of being reliant on anyone, Gregor was still there.
When I broke the news to Gregor, he seemed supportive at first. But it didn’t take long for his true feelings to surface.
An upset woman sitting at a desk | Source: Midjourney
“What? Now, I’m going to be the breadwinner at home? The only breadwinner?” he asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.
“It’s just for now,” I said. “I’m going to start the job hunt as soon as possible. But until I get back onto my feet, it’s going to be you running the home. Okay?”
“Well, it’s not like I have a choice, right?” he said, rolling his eyes.
A grumpy man | Source: Midjourney
“It’s not for long,” I promised. “Just give me a few weeks and I’ll have another job ready to go.”
I had to admit, I was taken aback by his reaction, but understood his concern. I quickly started job hunting, determined to find something else.
I sat down at my laptop and stared at the screen until the words blurred.
A woman using her laptop | Source: Midjourney
“Come on, Abby,” I told myself. “You need to find something. You just need the world to give you a break, that’s all.”
While I was searching, I took a temporary job as a cleaner in a nearby restaurant. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was honest work, and it helped keep us afloat.
“At least your boss is happy to give us food,” Gregor said one evening as I unwrapped leftover steak and veggies from the restaurant.
A woman holding a mop | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, the manager would rather have food sent home for our families to enjoy rather than just throw it out,” I said, cutting my steak.
“It’s good food,” Gregor said. “But at the same time, it’s not a good job for you. Our family and friends are used to seeing you with your nails and hair done, wearing high heels and fancy outfits. Not black slacks and an apron, Abby.”
A plate of steak and veggies | Source: Midjourney
“I know that,” I said. “But it’s not like I’ve settled for the job. I’m still actively looking for another job. This is to keep us going until then.”
Gregor grunted and continued to eat.
For a moment, I had no idea who my husband was. But this man wasn’t the one that I had married.
A man eating | Source: Midjourney
Fast forward a few months to Gregor’s 45th birthday.
My husband decided to throw himself a big bash at an expensive restaurant and invited all his friends, family, and colleagues.
“So, he can complain about looking after his wife, but he’s fine with spoiling everyone else for his birthday?” my mother tutted on the phone.
An older woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t know what else to tell you, Mom,” I said. “It’s just how he is. But I’m looking forward to this. It’s my first weekend off in a while and I just want to unwind and have fun.”
“I know, darling,” she said.
Admittedly, I was excited for the night, thinking it would be a chance for us to relax and just spend time together outside of our home.
A smiling woman on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Happy birthday, my love,” I said to Gregor when we got to the restaurant.
I had called ahead and asked for them to set up black and silver balloons around the table Gregor had reserved.
The night started off well, with good food, laughter, and drinks flowing freely. As the evening went on, tipsy people began to make toasts.
A table with food and drinks at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
First, was Gregor’s sister, Natalia.
“You’re lucky to have Abby in your life, brother,” she said, holding two glasses of champagne. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
I felt touched by her words and smiled, feeling appreciated.
Gregor’s friend, Tim, went next, talking about the joys of having Gregor in the office next door.
A woman holding two glasses of champagne | Source: Midjourney
Finally, it was Gregor’s turn to speak.
He stood up, his glass of champagne in hand, and began laughing before he even said a word.
“Oh, I know I’m lucky, Nat,” he said. “But let’s be real, Abby is lucky too! She’s basically my dependent now. I’d have kicked her out a long time ago if she wasn’t so obedient. It’s just a pity I invested all that money in her over the years.”
A man standing and giving a speech | Source: Midjourney
Gregor hiccupped and reached for a piece of shrimp from his plate.
The table fell silent, and my insides twisted more than they ever had. Embarrassed wasn’t enough to describe how I felt.
He was laughing, expecting everyone else to join in. Some people chuckled awkwardly, not knowing what to do, but most people looked around uncomfortably.
A plate of fried shrimp | Source: Midjourney
Gregor took another piece of shrimp before he dissolved into laughter for a while.
“Come on guys, that was a killer joke!” he bellowed in between laughing.
But then, as I sat there, something clicked inside me.
I decided I wasn’t going to let him get away with this behavior. This was toxic behavior.
A man laughing | Source: Midjourney
I wasn’t going to allow that back into my life.
Calmly, I stood up and took a deep breath.
“Well, Gregor,” I said. “It seems like you’re forgetting a few things. But let me remind you and everyone else about some investments I’ve made.”
All eyes were on me as I spoke, and Gregor’s smug smile slowly faded away.
An expressionless woman | Source: Midjourney
“You see,” I started. “While you’ve been investing in me, you’ve also been busy investing. The money you used to fund this luxurious celebration didn’t come from your account.”
Gasps erupted around the room.
“I saw the notification,” I said. “You took it from my savings fund. You don’t believe me? I can pull up the statement on my phone right now…”
A woman holding her phone | Source: Midjourney
“No…” Gregor said.
“I was willing to overlook this because we were a team, but it seems that we’re not. I know that you only took out the money to reserve this place, and that the rest of the bill needs to be paid when we leave here. Correct?”
Gregor nodded slowly.
“Correct,” he muttered.
A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney
“And I have the money with me, right in my purse,” I said. “I wanted you to have a good birthday, and I didn’t want you to pay for your own birthday dinner.”
I looked around the table, seeing the realization dawn on everyone’s faces.
“But do you know what? I think I’ll just keep it, along with my dignity.”
With that, I calmly walked off the stage and out of the restaurant.
A woman walking away on the pavement | Source: Midjourney
I don’t know how Gregor paid for the dinner, but I didn’t care. Instead, I went home and packed as much of my clothes as my car would allow, and I drove to my mother’s place.
I wasn’t going to stay in a toxic relationship again.
A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
My Downstairs Neighbor Asked Me to Be Quieter at Night, but I Have Not Been Home for the past Week
When Piper returns from a trip with her friends, she cannot wait to get home to her husband. But as she unpacks her car, a neighbor approaches her, complaining about the noise from her apartment. If Piper wasn’t home, who was Matthew entertaining in her absence?
I had just returned from a blissful week-long camping trip with my friends. It was all about us taking time away from our lives and enjoying being away from the city.
My husband, Matthew, had stayed behind, claiming that he needed to stay at home.
A woman sitting outside and looking at the view | Source: Midjourney
“I have to be home, Piper,” he said when I was packing my bags. “It’s just work responsibilities. There are meetings and presentations coming up.”
“Are you sure?” I asked him. “Why don’t you come along, and then we can find you a place to work in between it all?”
Matthew smiled at me and sat down on the bed.
A woman sitting on a suitcase | Source: Midjourney
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said. “You go and join the others and have fun. You need some time away from this place.”
He continued to persuade me to go on the trip, and eventually, I gave in.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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