Emily lived in a modest house on the outskirts of the city. Her parents had passed away when she was just nine years old.
She and her grandmother, Margaret Rose, were left entirely alone. They had no other relatives, but despite being retired, Margaret Rose took on the responsibility of raising her granddaughter, her only remaining family. Margaret approached Emily’s upbringing with great care, helping with her studies and teaching her kindness, honesty, compassion, and fairness. Margaret’s pension was small, so to provide for Emily and ensure she didn’t feel deprived compared to others, she worked part-time as a hospital cleaner. After school, Emily would rush to the hospital to help her grandmother in any way she could. While Margaret mopped the floors, Emily tended to the patients. In her childlike way, she entertained them—reciting fairy tales or acting out scenes from movies—bringing smiles and even laughter to their faces, sometimes until they cried. Soon, the patients and hospital staff grew fond of the girl, eagerly awaiting her visits. Even the doctors recognized how Emily’s kind and empathetic nature helped ease the patients’ pain.
Emily came to love the hospital like a second home, happily lending a hand even on days when her grandmother wasn’t working. One day, Dr. Edward Thompson, the chief physician, said to her:
— Emily, you’ll make an excellent doctor someday. Listen to an old man—don’t deprive medicine of such a wonderful talent. Enroll in medical school after high school, and for now, focus on biology and chemistry. It’ll serve you well in your studies.
That’s how Emily chose her career.
When she graduated high school, Emily easily gained admission to medical school. She studied eagerly, especially enjoying her practical training. But during her fourth year, tragedy struck—Margaret Rose fell ill. The elderly woman had to quit her job, though she barely did any work herself anymore; Emily wouldn’t allow it. That income had been vital for the family, and now, a significant portion of their money went toward medications. Margaret’s pension was nowhere near enough. So Emily went to Dr. Edward Thompson.
— Dr. Thompson, is there any way I could work here without dropping out of school?
— Of course, Emily. You can work as a nurse in the evenings and night shifts. I’d be happy to help with your studies and explain anything you need to know about the profession. Start tomorrow if you’d like.
And so, Emily became a nurse in the same ward where her grandmother had once worked, a place she knew well. By day, she attended classes, then fed her grandmother, gave her medications, and administered injections before hurrying to her job. Emily took her duties seriously, striving to do everything correctly and thoroughly. Dr. Thompson, along with the other doctors and nurses, supported her every step of the way.
One night, during one of Emily’s shifts, a young man was brought in with a severe head injury. He was unconscious and in critical condition. After performing all the procedures prescribed by the doctor, Emily sat by his bedside, looking at him with pity.
What a shame, she thought. So young, so handsome, and what kind of monster could do this to him? But don’t worry, hang in there—I’ll help you get better.
The young man regained consciousness on the third day. That night, Emily had finished her rounds and was quietly sitting beside him, flipping through a textbook. Suddenly, she heard:
— Where am I?
She leaned toward him and touched his forehead—it was hot.
— Don’t worry. You’re in the hospital.
She gave him his medication and some water.
— How did I get here?
— You have a traumatic brain injury. You need rest. Do you remember what happened to you?
— No, he paused. — I can’t remember anything at all.
— Do you at least remember your name?
— James… I think. That’s all.
— Where do you live? Who are your parents?
— I don’t know.
— Alright, don’t strain yourself. Memory loss can happen with a concussion. It’ll come back later. For now, I’ll give you an injection, and you should sleep.
As she turned to leave, James asked:
— And you? What’s your name?
— Emily…
From that day, a friendship blossomed between the nurse and the patient. James’s health gradually improved, but his memory remained elusive. Emily spent hours talking to him, showing him photos, listing names, dates, and addresses, but nothing sparked recognition.
Dr. Thompson explained to her:
— This can happen with a traumatic brain injury. It’s also possible that something horrific happened in his life, causing his mind to psychologically block certain memories. Subconsciously, he’s refusing to recall anything that might bring more pain or bad memories.
— So what can we do?
— We can heal his body, his physical health. The rest is up to time and a psychologist. A single word, scent, or face might trigger his memory—or it might not. It’s a matter of time.
A month had passed since that fateful night when James was brought in with a fractured skull, but he still couldn’t remember anything. Physically, he was fully recovered, and the hospital could no longer keep him. Emily approached Dr. Thompson:
— Doctor, what’s James supposed to do now? He doesn’t remember where he lived or where he’s from. Where can he go?
— Emily, I understand your concern, but you must understand me. I can’t keep a healthy patient in my ward. This is a hospital, and there are rehabilitation centers for cases like his.
— Dr. Thompson, please, just give him one more day. I’ll figure something out tomorrow.
The doctor agreed.
After her shift, Emily raced home and rushed to Margaret Rose’s bedside.
— Grandma, remember the patient I told you about, the one with no memory? They’re discharging James tomorrow, and he has nowhere to go. I don’t want him to end up helpless in some mental health shelter. Can he stay with us for a while?
Margaret Rose gently stroked her granddaughter’s hair.
— Of course, dear. I taught you compassion myself. Let him stay with us. I’d like to meet him, too—I’ve heard so much about this young man, I’m curious, she smiled.
At first, James hesitated at Emily’s invitation, but she was insistent.
— Don’t worry, it’s no trouble for us. My grandmother is bedridden, and I’m either at school or work. Your help would mean a lot. Plus, a man in a house with two women will always find something useful to do, right?
In the end, she convinced him.
Margaret Rose took a liking to James. He was humble, friendly, and caring. He looked after her, handled household chores, and ran errands to the store. James did everything he could to avoid being a burden, but he still felt uneasy about his situation.
Often, Emily caught him deep in thought, struggling to recall something. In those moments, she genuinely felt for him.
— James, don’t do this to yourself. Your memory just needs a spark, a trigger, and everything will fall into place.
One day, when Emily had a rare day off from both school and work, they decided to visit a large shopping mall far from home to stock up on supplies. The mall was called “Vitalina.” Seeing the name, Emily laughed:
— James, look, it’s like it’s named after us—James and Emily.
— Emily, that name feels familiar, but I can’t place it.
They entered the supermarket, wandering through endless aisles and small shops scattered across the mall’s three floors. Suddenly, Emily heard a piercing shout rise above the crowd’s hum:
— Jimmy, my son!
James turned and saw an elderly, gray-haired man staring at him, pale and clutching his chest. Quickly assessing the situation, Emily ran to the man, sat him on a nearby couch, unbuttoned his shirt collar, and pulled a heart medication from her bag.
— Put this under your tongue.
The man followed her instructions, his eyes fixed on James. James, stunned, stared back, rubbing his temples. Suddenly, he closed his eyes and collapsed, unconscious. Emily quickly revived him under the anxious gaze of the older man.
— Dad, James said weakly.
— My boy, how did this happen? Where have you been? I buried you—I thought I buried you! I claimed your body from the morgue, or so I thought. The body was unrecognizable. I recognized your jacket. Oh, God! The man’s eyes welled with tears, but he smiled. — You’re alive, my boy. What happened to you? Who’s this lovely young lady?
— Dad, I just remembered everything. I had amnesia. Meet Emily, my savior and guardian angel. And this is my father, George William.
Emily smiled.
— Oh, come on. Now that you’ve remembered everything, maybe you can tell us what really happened?
And so, James shared his tragic story.
George William, James’s father, was a wealthy man. The “Vitalina” shopping mall was one of many family businesses. To celebrate James’s graduation, George had promised him a luxury car as a gift. But James wanted to choose and buy the car himself, one that suited his taste. So, he took a large sum of cash and headed to a popular dealership.
— But why cash? Why alone? Emily asked. — That’s dangerous!
— Emily, I had a personal matter to settle privately, James said, blushing. — Don’t get the wrong idea. I found out my girlfriend cheated on me. I needed to end things. And dealerships give big discounts for cash…
After confronting his girlfriend, James, upset, stopped at a café to calm down with a coffee. Outside, a young homeless man was begging. Shivering in tattered clothes, he coughed constantly. Not wanting to flash his cash but feeling sorry for the man, James took off his jacket and gave it to him. The homeless man, overjoyed, put it on immediately. Likely, that man had gotten into serious trouble—common in such a rough life. When George reported James missing, police found a body wearing James’s jacket, leading to the mistaken identification.
After the café, James, too upset to buy a car, decided to head home. He hailed a private taxi and gave the address. When the driver, a brash young man, named his price, James absentmindedly pulled out a large bill and handed it over. That was his mistake.
The driver saw the cash James was carrying and drove him to an industrial area. Lost in thought, James didn’t notice the detour until it was too late.
A blow to the head with a tire iron knocked him out. He woke up in the hospital, and the first person he saw was Emily. James then told his father how Emily had helped him, and George simply asked:
— Emily, what can I do for you? You gave me back my son.
Emily thought sadly, …and took away my friend.
Then she replied:
— Helping people is my calling. I’m a future doctor, so everything’s fine. Goodbye, James.
— Emily, where are you going?! James called out, but he was already surrounded by colleagues.
George sprang into action around his miraculously returned son, and the whirlwind of reclaiming his old life swallowed James.
Emily quietly walked to the mall’s exit. Without looking back, she called a taxi, loaded her groceries, gave the driver her address, and only then broke down in bitter tears. The tears flowed as she paid the driver, as she carried the bags home, and as she dropped them on the floor, collapsing in the hallway.
— Emily, sweetheart… What’s wrong? Why are you crying? What happened? Margaret Rose called from her room, worried.
Composing herself and wiping her tears, Emily went to her grandmother and hugged her.
— Don’t worry, Grandma. Everything’s fine. It’s just… James got his memory back.
— That’s something to celebrate, silly girl, Margaret said, confused. — Why cry?
— You don’t understand, Grandma. I’m happy he’s okay, that he remembers… Emily’s voice broke, and she sobbed uncontrollably. — But Grandma, it turns out James is the son of the richest man in our city. When he had no memory, he was just mine. I fell in love with him, Grandma, and now why would the heir to such a wealthy family want a half-trained nurse with a sick grandmother…
Margaret Rose gently took her granddaughter’s hand.
— Sweetheart, James is a grown man. I could see there was something between you two, but you both avoided it. His memory loss held you back. Sooner or later, it would’ve come to light—whether in a month or a year. If his returning memory brings back bad traits, he’s not the one for you. But trust my experience—your James is a good man. Just wait, and it’ll work out. Believe me.
Emily knew rationally that James belonged to a different world. He was wealthy. Maybe he felt something for her, but it was likely just gratitude. But she—she’d fallen for him like a schoolgirl, for a man with no past. Just James, who made her laugh, helped her sick grandmother, and comforted her after tough shifts. She only realized she loved him when she lost him.
— Okay, Grandma, don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl. I’ll handle my feelings.
Margaret just shook her head silently.
A month passed since Emily had, in a way, returned James to his father. In all that time, he hadn’t reached out—not a call, not a visit. He knew her address, the hospital where he’d stayed, where she worked.
Emily struggled with her first real heartbreak. She’d fallen so deeply for this man, a stranger in truth. Even if he didn’t love her, couldn’t he at least have visited Margaret, who’d welcomed and cared for him, who saw the good in him?
Margaret and Emily avoided mentioning the man who’d lived with them, but small things kept reminding them of him—a chipped glass he’d refused to throw out, saying he didn’t believe in “broken fates” and would drink from it because it was a gift from them; his childlike love for chocolate ice cream, which they still bought out of habit. Emily couldn’t dodge the topic anymore.
— Emily, darling, I see how much you’re hurting, Margaret began. — Your feelings are written all over your face. Talk to me. You love him, and it feels like your heart’s broken, but my girl, life goes on, no matter how much it hurts. Just accept it…
— Yes, Grandma. I got caught up in a fairy tale. Now things will go back to normal. The important thing is we have each other, and we’ll tackle problems as they come, like always.
Life moved forward. Emily kept up with work and school, spending evenings with her beloved grandmother.
But one day, returning home from work, she found Margaret’s bed empty—a bed her grandmother hadn’t left in years. Panicked, Emily checked with neighbors, called hospitals, but found no answers. Exhausted, she dropped her head into her hands and wept quietly, despairingly. Then a hand rested on her head, and she heard the voice she’d tried so hard to forget.
— Emily, I’m sorry—there was no signal. I couldn’t call. Margaret’s okay, don’t cry…
Emily looked up at James, and her emotions erupted.
— Where’s my grandmother? Why are you here? Why did you disappear, and now you’re back, acting like you know where she is? Where the hell have you been all this time?
James held her tightly, calming her near-hysteria, and spoke softly, as if soothing a child:
— Everything’s okay now, Emily. I couldn’t come earlier—it would’ve put you and Margaret in danger. My dad and I had business troubles, and I couldn’t let criminals use the people I care about against us. It’s over now. Don’t cry—I’m here, and I’ll never let you go again.
Still crying but calming down, Emily asked:
— And Grandma? Where is she? Is she okay?
James grew serious.
— When I came today to explain, Margaret was unconscious. I couldn’t reach you—I guess you erased me from your life and changed your number. So I called an ambulance and took her to our clinic. She’s fine now. The doctors say they’ll get her back on her feet. Guess who her doctor is? Dr. Thompson—you trust him, don’t you?
— Thank God, it’s all turning out so perfectly it feels like a dream.
— Emily, all this time I couldn’t see you, I dreamed of one thing: telling you I love you. Back when I was a nobody, sick with no memory, I didn’t dare. But now, answer me, Emily, my love—are you ready to build the happiest family in the world with me?
Emily threw herself into the arms of the man she loved, hardly believing her happiness.
Two joyful years have passed since then. James and Emily married in a lively wedding. They welcomed an adored son. Margaret, fully recovered thanks to expert care, danced at her granddaughter’s wedding and now pours her energy into caring for her great-grandson, giving the young parents time to rest.
One day, Emily asked her husband:
— James, I keep forgetting to ask—why is the mall called Vitalina?
— I was waiting for you to ask. There’s a family legend—or maybe a true story that became one. They say my grandfather, who founded the Vitalina empire, visited a fortune-teller to learn his future. She prophesied that every eldest son in our family should be named James, and our family’s happiness would come only when a James met his savior, his angelic destiny. Their hearts would unite, creating greatness. We laughed at the legend, but the empire—and the mall—were named as foretold: James plus Angel, Emily—Vitalina.
Emily listened, enchanted.
— James, the prophecy came true. James and Emily. We’re happy, our family’s growing, the business is thriving, and we have our son. Everything’s so perfect it’s almost scary. I hope fate smiles on that unknown fortune-teller, her children, and her grandchildren the way she predicted for your ancestor. Happiness is something you want to share.
The couple lived in love and joy, surrounded by their closest family, all in good health and full of life. Sometimes, fate tests us, but by overcoming those trials, we find the love and happiness we’ve longed for.
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