Valerie rifled through his leather bag, her hands shaking, until she found a small orange prescription bottle. She fumbled with the cap, handed him two pills, but they slipped from his trembling fingers onto the sidewalk.
“Hold on,” she said, grabbing two more. Carefully, she placed them under his tongue, holding his jaw steady. She couldn’t believe nobody stopped to help. A man was fighting for his life, and the world just kept moving.
“Should I call 911?” she asked, holding up her phone.
He shook his head, eyes closed. Valerie’s stomach knotted. What if he died right here? But slowly, his breathing steadied, and color returned to his face.
When he could move, she helped him to a nearby bus stop bench. He pulled out a handkerchief, wiped his brow, and slipped another pill under his tongue.
“Feeling better?” she asked.
“Much,” he said, managing a weak smile. “I’m Stephen.” He extended a hand, his grip surprisingly firm for someone who’d just collapsed.
“Valerie,” she replied, shaking his hand. “Glad I could help.”
Glancing at her watch, her heart sank. She’d missed her interview.
“You missed something because of me, didn’t you?” Stephen asked, noticing her frown.
“It’s fine,” she said, forcing a smile. “Helping you was more important.”
“You saved my life,” he said earnestly. “I owe you. Can I call my driver? He can take you wherever you need to go.”
“No, thanks,” she said. “I’ll manage.”
She exhaled, relieved he was okay. Work would come.
“What happened out there?” she asked, sitting beside him. “Was that a heart attack?”
“Something like that,” Stephen said, his eyes distant. “It’s… the anniversary of my son’s passing. Hits me hard every year.”
“I’m so sorry,” Valerie said, her voice soft. She struggled to find words for such grief. “Do you have grandkids to lean on?”
“Not really,” he said curtly, then softened. “I’m seventy-four. I know any day could be my last. I’m at peace with it.”
Valerie shivered, unsure how to respond. They sat in silence until Stephen called his driver. As his car pulled away, Valerie dialed the company she’d missed.
“Sorry, we’re swamped,” a woman’s voice snapped. “The boss is dealing with a crisis. Can we reschedule for the day after tomorrow?”
Valerie nearly laughed with relief. A second chance! Maybe even the big shots had their own drama. Back home, she hugged Tessa and suggested a park playdate with Parker near Buckingham Fountain. Zoe was thrilled.
“Perfect!” Zoe clapped. “I can finally get my nails done. Parker’s been sick, so I’ve been stuck. You’re the best!”
Valerie sat on a park bench, watching Tessa chase Parker near the fountain’s sprays. She replayed her encounter with Stephen, a mix of pride and awe washing over her. She’d saved a life today. That meant something.
But her biggest victory was leaving Vince, Tessa’s father. It was the hardest choice she’d ever made. Tessa was born when Valerie was just twenty-two, juggling college, a part-time job, and caring for her sick dad while supporting her mom and sister. Life was tough but manageable—until Vince came along.
They met at a Peoria farmer’s market. Someone bumped Valerie, and her bag of eggs hit the ground, yolks splattering. Frustrated, she knelt to clean up when a slurred voice cut through.
“Watch where you’re going, clumsy!”
She looked up to see a drunk guy sneering at her—the one who’d bumped her.
“You pushed me!” she shot back.
“Standing there like a damn statue,” he mocked. “Move it, lady!”
Before she could respond, another man stepped in, holding a pineapple and glaring at the drunk.
“Apologize to her, or you’ll regret it,” he said calmly.
The drunk scoffed but froze when the stranger squared his shoulders, fists clenched. Muttering an apology, he tossed Valerie a few bucks for the eggs and slunk away.
That was Vince. Brave, charming, and quick to stand up for her. She was smitten. They started dating, and for a while, she ignored his temper, chalking it up to protectiveness. But after their wedding, the red flags grew impossible to ignore.
One night, as she dressed for a friend’s birthday, Vince blocked the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.
“To Sarah’s party,” she said, confused.
“Not in that dress,” he snapped. “You look… inappropriate.”
Valerie glanced at her reflection. Her red sundress was cute, not provocative. But Vince wouldn’t budge.
“You’re married now,” he said. “No more parties.”