The winter was harsh and unforgiving. A bone-chilling cold gnawed at the marrow, while a sharp, relentless wind whipped against any exposed skin.
Arthur lay huddled on his battered, sagging sofa, cowering from the biting frost. His mind drifted toward thoughts of hot tea and a heavy dinner. More than anything, he craved a slice of the savory pot roast his former cook, Mrs. Higgins, used to prepare.
"God, she could cook," he whispered. The mere memory of the delicacies she used to spoil him with made his heart ache. He realized, with a sudden pang, just how much he missed his old life of ease and plenty.
But Arthur wasn't about to fold. Victory was a mere two weeks away. What were two weeks compared to the five and a half months he had already endured?
His stomach growled fiercely, and he had nothing left to eat, yet Arthur was determined to see it through and win the bet.
Five and a half months ago, Arthur Sullivan—a successful entrepreneur and partner in a major construction firm—had made a wager with his friend and associate, Bill Sterling. Arthur claimed he could give up every luxury of modern life for six months: the luxury SUV, the sprawling estate, the black Amex, and all the perks that came with them. He was to live as a homeless man, surviving on the streets entirely on his own without any outside help. Arthur had jumped at the bet because the stakes were astronomical. If he won, he would acquire all of Bill's shares and become the sole owner of the company. If he lost, he would owe Bill the exact same price.
The first four months had been manageable. It was late summer and autumn then. Arthur slept wherever he could—sometimes watching the sunrise in Central Park, by the lake, or under a bridge. He ate whatever he could find, occasionally earning a few dollars doing odd jobs or scavenging behind roadside diners that tossed out leftovers every evening.
The real hardship arrived with the winter. This year, it had turned out to be exceptionally snowy and freezing. Arthur had spent hours wandering in search of any kind of shelter, feeling the onset of frostbite in his fingers and toes. Fate finally took pity on him and led him to a vacant lot where an old, abandoned security kiosk stood. Arthur ran toward it like a shipwrecked sailor spotting a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean.
He was overjoyed to find a collapsing sofa and a small wood-burning stove inside. After that, life didn't seem quite so bleak. In the evenings, Arthur would submerge himself in memories of his past life, where he had everything, and he would ache with longing. The only thing that kept him going was the thought that these privations would soon end. He would return to his warm, comfortable home a wealthier, sharper, and wiser man.
***
Early one morning, through a haze of sleep, Arthur heard a faint, high-pitched cry. He opened his eyes, stood up slowly, and listened. It didn't take long to confirm that a baby was crying nearby. The infant wouldn't stop, its wails persistent and desperate. Arthur bolted out of the kiosk and ran toward the sound. A minute later, tucked away in a pile of refuse, he saw a small bundle. Inside was an infant, turning blue from the cold. Arthur let out a shocked breath, quickly stripped off his tattered heavy coat, and wrapped the abandoned baby in it. He rushed the child back to his kiosk to get him warm. Pressed against him, the baby quieted slightly but continued to moan piteously. Arthur knew the child was likely hungry and wet. After a moment's frantic thought, he realized there wasn't a second to lose. The baby needed food and dry clothes. Cradling the bundle tightly against his chest, he headed straight for the local police station.
He was in such a hurry to get the child into safe hands that he collided with a young woman at the precinct entrance.
"Oh! I am so sorry. I'm such a klutz," the woman stammered. "I was rushing to get in line for some paperwork."
Arthur looked up at her, and his breath caught in his throat. Standing before him was a childhood friend, a girl tied to many of his happiest memories.
"Doris!" he cried out in his mind, unable to believe his eyes.
He was overcome with a strange delight at this chance encounter with a girl from his past, someone he had spent countless carefree, golden summer days with in the countryside.
Every year, Arthur's parents had taken him to his grandmother's cottage for the summer. Next door lived Doris's aunt, Martha, whom Doris visited every vacation. They had been inseparable, growing up together and exploring the woods. But when Arthur turned fifteen, his grandmother passed away, and the annual trips stopped. Arthur lost touch with Doris for a long time. Years later, he had gone back to the village to look for her aunt, but Martha had sold the house and moved to parts unknown. Arthur had spent years kicking himself for never learning the last name of the girl he had been so close to. He had always just called her "Dee," and back then, that had been enough.
Now, fate had brought them back together. Arthur realized Doris didn't recognize him in his current state, and he decided this wasn't the time for a reunion.
"No, please, it's my fault," he said with a small smile. "I was in a rush and didn't see you."
The baby began to cry hysterically, and Arthur looked panicked. Doris reached out, took the child from his arms, and began to rock him gently. In her soft embrace, the baby quickly calmed down and fell asleep.
Arthur told Doris about how he had found the abandoned child in the trash earlier that morning. Doris was moved to tears by the story. She invited the man back to her place to get warm and have a meal.
After Arthur handed the infant over to the authorities, he followed Doris to her apartment.
He felt a strange, nagging anxiety in his chest, and it was tied to the little boy he had left at the station. For some reason, he felt a crushing sense of guilt, and he couldn't settle down. He tried to tell himself he had done everything possible given the circumstances. Doris eventually distracted him from his dark thoughts.
She lived modestly but comfortably. Her apartment was a small, well-kept one-bedroom on the edge of town. They sat at her table, drinking tea and discussing the baby's fate.
"I really hope they find a good family for that little guy," Doris said.
"I just hope he doesn't get lost in the system," Arthur agreed. "He deserves loving parents. Doris, can I ask you something directly?"
"Of course," she said, raising an eyebrow in surprise.
"Aren't you afraid to let someone like me into your home?"
"Why should I be afraid?" she asked, looking puzzled. "You're a person just like me. And a very kind one at that. You didn't leave that baby to die; you warmed him up and brought him to safety. What could be more important than saving an innocent life?"
"I didn't do anything special. If I could, I'd find the best family in the world for that boy. I feel for him, but what can I do?"
"You helped the baby, so I'm going to help you," Doris said brightly. "Stay right here, I'll be back."
Ten minutes later, Doris returned to the kitchen holding several items. She handed a warm sweater to a confused Arthur and smiled.
"I think this will fit you perfectly. You look to be about the same size as my ex-husband."
"Ex-husband?" Arthur repeated, surprised.
Over another cup of tea, Doris told him about her ex—how she had married him two months after meeting him, convinced she'd found her soulmate, only for the marriage to reveal his true colors. It turned out she and Andrew were completely incompatible. She realized quickly he wasn't the man she wanted to spend her life with, and they divorced after five months. Andrew had vanished from her life, but he'd left some clothes behind. They fit Arthur perfectly, and Doris felt a quiet satisfaction in helping this man whose face felt strangely familiar to her.
When Arthur stood up to leave, Doris looked at him quite seriously and suggested he stay.
"Look, how can you go back to the street with no money, no food, and no heat? Stay here. The apartment is small, but we can make it work. I'll make up a bed for you here in the kitchen."
Arthur shook his head and thanked her for everything, but he took the clothes and left. He walked away with an incomparable feeling of tenderness for this wonderful, generous woman. He wanted so badly to tell her who he was—her old childhood friend—but he couldn't allow himself to do it yet.
He would tell her the truth after the bet with Bill was over.
***
Soon, Arthur began visiting Doris more often, stopping by for tea and conversation. The remaining days of the wager flew by. During that time, Arthur realized he couldn't imagine a life without Doris and that he would never let her go.
He had achieved his goal, surviving through hunger, freezing cold, and the judgment of others. He won the bet with his partner, acquired the remaining shares, and became the sole owner of the largest construction company in the city. That very evening, he claimed his prize.
He decided then that he would go to Doris, knowing that this time he wouldn't be leaving her. He planned to save the big talk for the morning and spent the night imagining how he would tell her everything, right from the very beginning.
In the morning, when he walked into her kitchen, Doris was making breakfast. He greeted her and sat down. His expression was heavy with secret intent. Noticing his intense, meaningful gaze, Doris stopped cooking and sat beside him, waiting for whatever he was about to say.
"Doris, I have to tell you something important. There's a lot about me you don't know..."
"Please don't tell me you're a fugitive on the run," she whispered, her face going pale.
"No!" Arthur exclaimed. "I promise you, I've never broken the law. I'm the same Arthur you used to spend every summer with at your aunt's place."
Doris gasped at the confession. Her fingers trembled with emotion, and her throat went dry. That was why his face had seemed so familiar. She could hardly believe what she was hearing.
"Tell me," she said, testing him. "What did you used to call me when we were kids?"
"Dee," he answered without a second's hesitation.
Doris threw her arms around him, tears welling in her eyes. Arthur then told the stunned woman the whole truth about the bet with Bill. He admitted that he was now the full owner of a massive company. But more importantly, he told her that he had never forgotten her—that he had tried to find her years ago but failed.
Now that fate had brought them back together, he knew he was never letting her go.
"Why did you keep lying to me? Why didn't you tell me right away?" Doris murmured, feeling a mix of hurt and confusion as she processed it all.
"I didn't want your childhood friend to be associated with a homeless man in your mind. I wasn't ready for the conversation yet. I needed time. Forgive me. I'll never forget what you did for me." Arthur stepped toward her and hugged her; she pressed against him in return, resting her head on his shoulder.
A few months later, Arthur and Doris were married. Soon after, they discovered she was pregnant, and the couple was overjoyed. Only one thing cast a shadow over their happiness: the memory of the baby boy found in the trash. They often wondered what had happened to him. Together, they decided they would find him and adopt him.
When Doris left the maternity ward a year later, she was met by her husband and their young son, who was clutching a large bouquet of white roses. Arthur looked at his happy family and thought to himself that in this life, there is always room for a dream to come true.
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