\nWhen 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\u2014until a heartbreaking twist reshapes everything. Andrew, 50, sat at his desk, shuffling through papers while juggling scheduling meetings with his partners.\n
He didn\u2019t hear Michael, his assistant, enter the room. Michael stood there, waiting. After a few moments, he cleared his throat.\n
No response. Andrew kept working, his focus sharp. Michael tried again. \u201cMr. Smith.\u201d Still no answer. He repeated his name three more times.\n
\n
Finally, Andrew slammed his hands on the desk and snapped, \u201cWhat?\u201d\n
Michael didn\u2019t flinch. \u201cYou asked me to tell you if your ex-wife called.\u201d\n
Andrew groaned and rubbed his temples. \u201cHow many times do I have to tell you? Ignore her calls. What now?\u201d\n
Michael held a notepad. \u201cShe left a message. I should warn you\u2014it\u2019s a direct quote. Her words, not mine.\u201d He read from the note. \u201c\u2018You pompous jerk, I will never forgive you for wasting so many years of my life. If you don\u2019t give me back my painting, I\u2019ll smash your car.\u2019 That\u2019s the message.\u201d\n
\n
Andrew\u2019s face turned red. \u201cWe\u2019ve been divorced for two years! Does she not have anything better to do?\u201d\n
Michael looked at him, waiting for further instructions. \u201cShould I respond to her?\u201d\n
\u201cNo! And stop taking her calls,\u201d Andrew said. Then he paused. \u201cActually, tell her I threw that painting in the trash!\u201d\n
Andrew grabbed a pen and hurled it toward the wall. Michael ducked slightly, gave a polite nod, and left the room.\n
Moments later, Andrew\u2019s phone rang. He frowned, picking it up.\n
\u201cAndrew Smith?\u201d a voice asked.\n
\u201cYes. Who\u2019s calling?\u201d\n
\u201cThis is the hospital. Your test results are ready. The doctor wants to see you.\u201d\n
\n
\u201cCan\u2019t you just tell me now?\u201d Andrew said, irritated. \u201cI\u2019m busy.\u201d\n
\u201cSorry, sir. The doctor will explain in person.\u201d\n
Andrew sighed heavily. \u201cFine. I\u2019ll come in.\u201d He hung up, shaking his head.\n
Andrew rarely allowed himself the luxury of a lunch break, but this time was different. The doctor\u2019s office was quiet, the ticking clock on the wall the only sound.\n
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.\n
The doctor sat across from him and spoke in a steady, measured tone, using terms Andrew didn\u2019t understand.\n
\n
Then came the word\u2014cancer. \u201cWe need to act fast,\u201d the doctor said.\n
\u201cIs this some kind of joke?\u201d Andrew asked, his voice sharp. \u201cI own a company. I can\u2019t just check into a hospital.\u201d\n
The doctor met his eyes. \u201cYour health should come first. The company can wait.\u201d\n
Andrew leaned forward. \u201cWhat are my chances of getting better?\u201d\n
\u201cI can\u2019t promise anything,\u201d the doctor said. \u201cStarting treatment right away is critical.\u201d\n
Andrew\u2019s voice rose. \u201cCan I still work while I\u2019m here?\u201d\n
\u201cTreatment affects everyone differently,\u201d the doctor explained. \u201cYou will stay in the hospital so we can monitor you. Someone can bring you a computer.\u201d\n
Andrew frowned and stood up. \u201cFine. I\u2019ll sort it out.\u201d\n
The doctor watched him leave. \u201cWe\u2019ll see you tomorrow with your things,\u201d he said before Andrew reached the door.\n
\n
As Andrew walked through the hospital\u2019s pediatric wing, he noticed a boy, about eight years old, tossing a ball back and forth with a nurse.\n
The sound of their laughter echoed in the corridor. The ball suddenly rolled across the floor and stopped near Andrew\u2019s feet.\n
\u201cExcuse me, sir!\u201d the boy called out, smiling. \u201cCan you please throw the ball back?\u201d\n
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.\n
\u201cThat was mean, sir!\u201d the boy shouted.\n
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.\n
But the treatment was draining. Each session left him weaker. The nausea was constant, and sleep was nearly impossible.\n
One afternoon, during another long chemotherapy session, Andrew leaned back, his eyes half-closed. He felt miserable.\n
\n
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.\n
\u201cWhat do you want, kid?\u201d Andrew mumbled, not even lifting his head.\n
\u201cI\u2019ve been walking around the hospital looking for someone to play with. It\u2019s boring here.\u201d\n
Andrew glanced at him, annoyed. \u201cWhat\u2019s your name?\u201d he asked.\n
\u201cTommy,\u201d the boy replied with a wide grin.\n
Andrew sighed. \u201cListen, Tommy. I\u2019m not in the mood to play. Go bother someone else before I start feeling worse.\u201d\n
Tommy didn\u2019t move. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small peppermint candy. He held it out to Andrew. \u201cThis helps with nausea. You should try it.\u201d\n
Andrew hesitated, then snatched the candy and set it on the table.\n
\u201cYou\u2019re really grumpy!\u201d Tommy said, laughing. \u201cI\u2019m going to call you Mr. Grouch. Are you mad because you\u2019re scared of needles?\u201d He pointed at the IV attached to Andrew\u2019s arm.\n
\n
Andrew frowned. \u201cI\u2019m not scared of anything.\u201d\n
Tommy nodded. \u201cThat\u2019s fine. I was scared at first too, but then I stopped. My mom says I\u2019m a superhero. Do you have a superpower?\u201d\n
\u201cNo,\u201d Andrew said, his voice flat.\n
\u201cThat\u2019s because you\u2019re too sad,\u201d Tommy replied, his tone serious now.\n
Andrew looked at the boy, surprised by the honesty in his big, bright eyes. \u201cIs there anything you want?\u201d Andrew asked.\n
Tommy grinned. \u201cYeah. I want to buy flowers for my mom. She works really hard, but I don\u2019t have any money.\u201d\n
Andrew sighed again, reached for his wallet, and pulled out a few bills. \u201cHere. Get your flowers. Maybe buy yourself something too. But leave me alone.\u201d\n
Tommy\u2019s face lit up. \u201cThanks, Mr. Grouch!\u201d He ran out, clutching the money, while Andrew stared at the peppermint candy on the table.\n
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\u2019t much, but it made a difference for a while.\n
That evening, as Andrew stared at his laptop, a nurse knocked on his door.\n
She carried a small paper bag. \u201cThis is for you,\u201d she said, placing it on the table. \u201cTommy sent it.\u201d\n
\n
Andrew opened the bag and found it full of peppermint candies. He shook his head, unsure whether to feel amused or moved.\n
The next morning, he decided to find Tommy. He needed to make one thing clear: the money wasn\u2019t a gift.\n
As he approached Tommy\u2019s room, he saw a woman leaning against the wall, her shoulders shaking. She was crying.\n
\u201cAre you okay?\u201d Andrew asked, his voice low.\n
The woman wiped her eyes quickly and looked up. \u201cYes\u2026 Did you need something?\u201d\n
\u201cTommy gave me some candies yesterday,\u201d Andrew said.\n
The woman\u2019s lips curved into a small smile. \u201cOh, so you\u2019re Mr. Grouch,\u201d she said.\n
Andrew raised an eyebrow. \u201cMy name\u2019s Andrew,\u201d he replied.\n
\u201cI\u2019m Sara,\u201d she said. \u201cAre you here for treatment too?\u201d\n
Andrew nodded.\n
\u201cThen you understand,\u201d Sara said quietly. \u201cThe bills, the stress. I can\u2019t even pay rent right now. They told me we\u2019ll be evicted in two months.\u201d\n
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. \u201cHey, Mr. Grouch!\u201d he called, grinning ear to ear.\n
From that day forward, Tommy became a constant presence in Andrew\u2019s life.\n
The boy would wander into Andrew\u2019s room with a big grin and endless energy. At first, Andrew found it annoying, but Tommy\u2019s persistence wore him down.\n
Soon, Andrew began looking forward to the visits. Tommy taught him to notice the simple joys in life.\n
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.\n
Sometimes, they \u201cborrowed\u201d wheelchairs and raced down the halls, laughing until their sides hurt.\n
Andrew didn\u2019t ask about Tommy\u2019s illness. He wasn\u2019t sure how to bring it up. One afternoon, Tommy mentioned Sara had been crying again. \u201cShe\u2019s worried about money,\u201d Tommy said. \u201cWe might lose our house.\u201d\n
Andrew quietly gave Tommy an envelope of cash. \u201cTell her it\u2019s from a magician,\u201d he said.\n
When Sara tried to return the money, Andrew waved her off. \u201cI\u2019m not a magician,\u201d he said. \u201cI don\u2019t know where it came from.\u201d\n
Weeks passed. Andrew\u2019s treatments worked, and the day came when the doctor gave him the news\u2014he was cancer-free.\n
Ecstatic, Andrew rushed to share it with Tommy. But when he arrived, Tommy was unconscious, Sara sitting beside him, tears streaming down her face.\n
\u201cWhat happened?\u201d Andrew asked, his voice barely above a whisper.\n
Sara wiped her eyes and shook her head. \u201cThe doctors said there\u2019s nothing more they can do.\u201d\n
Andrew stared at her, struggling to process the words. \u201cBut\u2026 he seemed so happy. He always smiled. I thought he was improving.\u201d\n
Sara looked at him, her face full of pain. \u201cHe didn\u2019t want you to see how sick he was. He wanted to be strong for you. He thought he was a superhero.\u201d\n
Andrew\u2019s chest tightened. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry.\u201d\n
Sara managed a faint smile through her tears. \u201cDon\u2019t be. He said you saved him. These months, you gave him laughter and hope. You made him forget about being sick.\u201d\n
Andrew shook his head slowly. \u201cNo. He\u2019s the one who saved me.\u201d\n
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.\n
That night, Tommy passed away peacefully, surrounded by the love of his mother and the memories he had made.\n
Andrew sat alone in his room afterward, overwhelmed by the loss. Andrew couldn\u2019t bear the thought of such a bright soul being forgotten.\n
Determined, he started a foundation in Tommy\u2019s name to help sick children, ensuring his kindness would live on.\n
He also stayed in touch with Sara, offering her support in every way he could.\n
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\nOne afternoon, Andrew stood at his ex-wife\u2019s 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.\n
\u201cI\u2019m not here to argue,\u201d Andrew said, his tone calm as he held out the painting.\n
His ex-wife frowned, puzzled. \u201cWhat is this supposed to mean?\u201d she asked.\n
\u201cNothing important,\u201d Andrew replied, a small smile forming. \u201cI\u2019m just making sure I keep my superpowers.\u201d Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away.\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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