My hands trembled as I stood by my car in the quiet, empty car park. The paper in my hands fluttered in the light wind as I stared at her messy, uneven handwriting.
The first line cut straight through me:
“IT WASN’T REAL AND I KNEW IT WASN’T.”
I swallowed hard, reading on line by line:
“Line 2: But it was real to me. Line 3: You didn’t give me a legal marriage, Matt, but you gave me something so much bigger. Line 4: You gave an eighteen-year-old girl who was terrified of dying alone a reason to smile on her last days. Line 5: Look under the paper. Line 6: I saved every bit of pocket money my parents gave me since I was ten. Line 7: Plus my uncle’s inheritance. Line 8: Use it to pay off your medical school loans. Line 9: Now go be the best doctor this world has ever seen—and don’t forget to smile.”
My breath hitched. I reached beneath the folded paper and pulled out a small, old leather bank book along with a cashier’s check made out directly to my name.
The total printed on it was enough to wipe out every single cent of the debt I had accumulated while working weekends and studying late into the night.
At the bottom of the box lay one final object: a small wooden frame. Inside was a Polaroid picture the nurse had taken on our “wedding day.” She was wearing her soft white scarf, laughing hysterically at my stiff, serious face, while I stood next to her in my crooked tie, holding her hand with its braided bandage ring.
Written in fine marker across the white border of the photo were four simple words:
“My husband, my hero.”
Standing there alone in the car park, with the cold wind biting at my face, I leaned against my car and finally let the tears fall—smiling through every single one.