For weeks, all I did was bake. I was a good baker and I couldn’t stop baking cupcakes. I didn’t talk to my friends and when I had baked too much, I took it out to neighbors.
And one day, while I was baking, my phone rang.
It was a strange number so I picked it up and the caller identified himself to be Mitch’s father.
He asked us to meet and we met at a restaurant not too far from where I lived. He talked about Mitch and how much he missed him. But his sole purpose was to deliver a message Mitch had left me before he died.
It turned out that Mitch had anticipated such event and he had made contingency planning. He had contacted his parents, told them about me and left instructions on what to be done after his death.
His father handed me the envelope and left. I went home, and when I got home I tore it open.
I was expecting an epic love letter but it wasn’t a letter at all, it was a cheque.
And when I looked at the cheque, my jaw dropped.
Mitch had left me enough to buy the whole hospital I had resigned from. He had left me enough to buy a whole fucking island if I wanted to, he had left me enough to last for generations even if I decided not to work again.
He had left me with a whooping sum of Two hundred million dollars.
I showed it to my mates when they came back from work and in a few days, the whole hospital had known.
I didn’t know what to do with the money. It was scary but it was oddly pacifying. Knowing Mitch hadn’t just left me like that but had left something for me to remember him with.
My friends begged me to return to work, not that I needed it anyway and I wasn’t going to answer them. Until I ran into Dr Neil.
The Dr who got shot trying to save me and Mitch from the situation I was now in. He had recovered too but he couldn’t operate again.
The injury had affected his hands and it was him who talked sense into me. Telling me I was talented and had the chance to become a great surgeon and probably a cardio-thoracic surgeon so that what happened with Mitch wouldn’t have to happen to anyone again.
And if I was going to be ungrateful, I should remember that I still had good hands to work and he couldn’t work again.
But mostly above all other things, Mitch wouldn’t want me to be like this.
I cried again that night in pain for the loss of Mitch and the next day, I was back at the hospital, begging the chief for forgiveness and he accepted me.
You know why, cause I was just a stupid young and inexperienced girl who fell in love (he actually called me that) but more importantly, I Mitch’s wife.
And because everyone liked Mitch, he forgave me for Mitch.