She Saved Me Then, I Save Her Now

When I'm in my senior year of high school, my mom, Bethany Stout, is diagnosed with uremia. Even after our family sells the house, we are still 300,000 dollars short on the dialysis fee. I pack my bags overnight, ready to go to work on an assembly line at an electronics factory. The class belle, Natasha Ferris, grabs my shirt tightly at the train station ticket gate. She's someone who usually blushes even when speaking a little loudly, but that day she forces a bank card into my hand. "The password is your birthday. Consider the money a loan. You're not allowed to miss the SAT." I say I may never be able to pay this money back in my entire life. With red-rimmed eyes, she scolds me, "Then pay me back slowly, but you cannot ruin your life just like this." Throughout the four years of college, she transfers me 800 dollars for food every single month without fail, and the note is always "eat more meat". Mom survives the kidney transplant surgery, and I also secure a guaranteed admission and enter a top-tier company. But Natasha cuts off all contact without any warning. Eight years later, I am the youngest partner at the major company, with an annual salary of ten million dollars. Yet, Natasha's name appears in a mockery video of a local matchmaking group. "Not only is this woman already 30 years old and has a sick mother, but she's also demanding 100,000 dollars as a wedding gift? Is she crazy or what?" When I watch the person in the video wearing old clothes, head lowered while enduring people's criticism, my eyes sting with tears. I push aside the signing ceremony for a ten-million-dollar project and pick up the bank card and my Social Security card. This time, it is my turn to catch Natasha when she falls. Chapter 1 "You want my family to give you 100,000 dollars as a wedding gift? Who do you think you are?" The gruff male voice rang out across the old-town cafe. I stood at the entrance, my gaze locking onto the woman sitting in the corner. It was Natasha Ferris. After eight years apart, she had become so thin that she was almost unrecognizable. A faded, washed-out old puffer jacket hung loosely on her, looking completely empty and oversized. She kept her head down, her hands twisting the hem of her clothes tightly. The man sitting across from her was potbellied, with a balding crown, a thick gold chain hanging around his neck. This was the man who had posted videos mocking Natasha in the matchmaking group chat, and his name was Shaun Buchanan. Next to Shaun sat a middle-aged woman dressed in flashy reds and greens. She was eyeing Natasha sideways with a condescending glare. "Natasha, I'm not trying to pick on you." The middle-aged woman spoke up, her tone dripping with condescension. "You're 30 this year, and you've still got your mother who needs constant medication. "It's only my son, Shaun, who's kind-hearted enough not to mind a burden like you. And yet here you are, making outrageous demands for 100,000 dollars? Are you marrying someone or selling yourself?" The other customers sipping their coffee all turned to cast judgmental glances and point fingers at Natasha. Natasha hung her head even lower, but I could see her shoulders trembling. "Mrs. Buchanan, my mom, Edna Seymour, is about to need a kidney transplant. This money is to save her life. I can write an IOU and pay you back slowly by working two jobs," Natasha pleaded hoarsely. "Pay us back?" Shaun let out a cold laugh and leaned back in his chair. "With what? That lousy paycheck of yours working the cash register at the supermarket? 3,000 dollars a month? You'll be paying us back into your next life!" He lit a cigarette and blew a puff of smoke right into Natasha's face. "Natasha, I'm going to lay it all out for you today. I can give you 100,000 dollars, but I have two conditions." Natasha looked up, a flicker of hope in her eyes. "What are they?" Shaun leaned in closer, a nasty grin curling at the corner of his mouth. "One, after we get married, you have to send your mom back to your hometown in the countryside. And whether she lives or dies is none of our business. "Two, you quit your job immediately, stay at home, and give me a son. If you can't produce one, I'll treat this money as fraud committed by you." I stood where I was, clenching my fists so hard my knuckles popped. From behind me, my assistant, Toby Cobb, asked in a low voice, "Mr. Garrison, do you want me to go over and handle this?" "No," I replied, my eyes fixed on Shaun's sleazy face. I wanted to see just how far the girl who had grabbed me at the train station all those years ago and scolded me for trying to ruin my life had now been pushed. Natasha turned deathly pale in the face. "No way." She shot to her feet. "If I send my mom back to the countryside with no one to look after her, she'll die." "Then you can just watch her die in the hospital." Mrs. Buchanan rolled her eyes. "The medical bill for treating kidney failure is a bottomless pit anyway. The sooner she goes, the sooner she's out of her misery." "You shut your mouth!" Natasha suddenly raised her voice, her eyes rimmed red. Clearly, she had been pushed to the breaking point. "Don't you dare talk about my mother like that!" Shaun's expression darkened, and he slammed his hand on the table. "Have I been too nice to you? How dare you yell at my mother!" He stood up and jabbed a finger in Natasha's face. "You think you're still that top university elite student from back in the day? "You're nothing now but a broke, pathetic loser who can't even afford a proper meal. If it weren't for the fact that you still look somewhat decent, you think I'd be sitting here wasting my breath?" Natasha gritted her teeth. Tears welled up in her eyes but stubbornly refused to fall. She drew a deep breath and grabbed the canvas bag from the table. "The wedding's off. Sorry for wasting your time." She turned to leave. "Stop right there!" Shaun seized her by the arm. "You think this is a place where you can just come and go as you please? If you dare walk out that door today, believe me when I say I'll have your mother kicked out of the hospital by tomorrow!" Chapter 2 Natasha stopped in her tracks and turned her head, staring at Shaun in disbelief. "What do you mean?" Shaun smirked smugly, releasing her arm and flicking the ash off his cigarette. "The head of nephrology at Trinity Hospital, Dr. Pete Dickinson, is my uncle. All it takes is one word from me, and he'll free up your mother's spot in the hospital for someone else." Natasha jolted, her canvas bag slipping from her hand and hitting the floor. Its contents spilled out—a few crumpled receipts, a bottle of cheap blood pressure medication, and half a cold sandwich. My heart seized with a sharp pang at the sight of the sandwich. Eight years ago, she had transferred 800 dollars to me every single month, with a note that read, "Eat more meat." Eight years later, here she was, eating a cold sandwich. Natasha crouched down, frantically scrambling to gather her things. Shaun planted his foot right on top of the sandwich and ground it in hard. "Natasha, don't push your luck. I'm giving you one more chance. Come with me to a hotel tonight and make sure I'm well taken care of. Then, tomorrow, I'll have Uncle Pete arrange your mother's surgery. Otherwise, you can go pick her up at the morgue tomorrow." Natasha froze in place. She lifted her head and looked at Shaun's utterly repulsive face, the light in her eyes dimming little by little. In its place was a numbed despair that sent a chill through anyone who saw it. She stood up slowly, her voice faint. "If I go with you, you'll save my mom?" "Natasha!" A sharp voice rang out from outside the cafe door. A middle-aged man hurriedly squeezed his way in and grabbed Natasha by the arm. "Uncle Henry?" Natasha was stunned for a moment. The man who had come was Natasha's maternal uncle, Henry Seymour. Henry turned to Shaun, his face plastered with an ingratiating smile. "Mr. Buchanan, please don't be angry. Natasha simply doesn't know any better." He turned his head to glare at Natasha. "Have you lost your mind?" he scolded her in a lowered voice. "You should be thanking your lucky stars that Mr. Buchanan has taken an interest in you." "Uncle Henry, he told me to send Mom back to the countryside to wait for her death!" Natasha retorted as she tried to break free from his grip. However, Henry held on to her tightly. "Well, there's nothing to be done about that! Your mom's illness was never curable in the first place. How much longer do you plan to drag the whole family down with you? Mr. Buchanan has promised to give me 30,000 dollars as long as you marry him. "My son, Clyde Seymour, is about to buy a marital home, and this money is exactly what we need for the down payment." Natasha stood rooted to the spot, staring fixedly at Henry. "You sold me?" "What do you mean, I sold you? It's called keeping it in the family!" Henry declared self-righteously. "I've lent you 20,000 dollars over the years for your sick mother. When have you ever paid me back? So, it's only right that I use this opportunity to settle the debt." Natasha was shaking with fury. "I paid you back that 20,000 dollars with interest ages ago!" "Bullshit! That was just the interest you paid back!" Henry roared, resorting to shameless denial. He turned to Shaun and fawned obsequiously. "Mr. Buchanan, rest assured that I'll get Natasha sorted out for you today. She'll go with you tonight." Shaun nodded with satisfaction. Then he pulled a wad of cash from his bag and tossed it onto the table. "Here's 10,000 dollars as a deposit. I'll give you the rest once Natasha has given me a son." Henry's eyes lit up. He reached out to grab the money, but Natasha suddenly lunged forward and swept the cash off the table with one swipe. "I won't marry him! I'd rather die than marry him!" Henry flew into a rage and slapped her hand across the face with the back of his hand. Chapter 3 The slap knocked Natasha's head to the side, blood seeping from the corner of her mouth. "You brat, this isn't up to you!" Henry grabbed her by the hair and started dragging her toward Shaun. "Toby," I uttered coldly. "Understood." Striding forward, Toby seized Henry by the wrist and twisted it back in the opposite direction. Henry howled in pain, his face contorting. He let go of Natasha, and she slumped backward, all strength gone from her body. I reached out and caught her steadily by the back. She turned her head in shock and met my eyes. "Spencer Garrison?" she called out, completely dumbfounded. The sight of her bleeding lips made my blood boil. "That's right, it's me." Natasha stared at me in disbelief. Then she instinctively stepped back, trying to pull free of my hand. "What are you doing here?" she asked in a slightly trembling voice. Instead of replying, I simply pulled her behind me. Then, I swept my gaze over Henry, who was still on the ground, before letting it settle on Shaun. "Who the hell are you?" Shaun frowned, sizing me up. I was dressed very casually today in an ordinary black trench coat, with no accessories that signaled status. Shaun clearly didn't think much of me and let out a cold snort. "Where did this punk come from? And how dare he meddle in my business?" Henry scrambled up from the ground, clutching his wrist and groaning in pain. "Mr. Buchanan, he's probably one of Natasha's old flames. She acts all pure and innocent on the surface, but who knows how many men she's been fooling around with behind our backs!" Shaking with rage, Natasha pointed at Henry. "That's a lie!" Henry glared at her viciously. "Oh, really? Then how come he showed up out of nowhere?" Shaun's expression darkened. He walked up to me and jabbed his finger against my shoulder. "Dude, I don't care what you two had going on before. But right now, she's the woman I've set my sights on. If you know what's good for you, you'll get lost. Otherwise, I'll make sure you're run out of this town." I stared at the finger poking my shoulder, my gaze turning ice-cold. "Take your filthy hand off me." Shaun was taken aback for a moment, then burst into arrogant laughter. "Well, well, aren't you a cocky one? Do you even know who I am?" He thumped his chest. "I'm the boss of Legend Building Materials. I've got dozens of men under me. Who the hell do you think you are?" I quickly ran the name Legend Building Materials through my mind. There seemed to be a sub-tier contractor by that name on the company's supplier list. I ignored him and turned to look at Natasha. "How much are you still short for the dialysis payments?" Natasha froze, biting her lower lip and saying nothing. "Answer me," I said, my tone hardening. "It's not only that." She lowered her head, her voice barely a whisper. "The hospital has already issued a final ultimatum. If I don't pay them 100,000 dollars for the deposit by this afternoon, they'll stop my mom's treatment." 100,000 dollars? I closed my eyes. Eight years ago, Natasha hadn't hesitated to give me 300,000 dollars. Yet now she was being forced to the point of selling herself for over 100,000 dollars. I pulled the faded bank card out of my pocket and handed it to her. "The password is your birthday. Go pay the bill." When she saw the card, Natasha jolted as if struck. It was the very same card she had given me all those years ago. "I can't take this." She stepped back, shaking her head vigorously. "Spencer, just go. This isn't something you can handle." "Take it." I stepped forward and forced the card into her hand. "This is the money I owe you." "Owe me?" Natasha let out a bitter laugh. "Spencer, back then you were forced to work in a factory, so how much money could possibly be in this card? 1,000 dollars? 2,000 dollars?" She drew a deep breath, her eyes rimmed red. "100,000 dollars isn't something you can come up with. Don't get yourself into trouble with these people over me." She still thought I was the same broke student from back then, the one who couldn't even afford a proper meal. Chapter 4 Shaun had been listening intently from the side and immediately burst into mocking laughter. "And here I thought some domineering CEO had shown up. Turns out he's just a broke deadbeat!" He pointed at the card in Natasha's hand, laughing so hard tears came to his eyes. "The password is her birthday? If there's even 10,000 dollars in that card, I'll swallow this whole table." Henry chimed in, "Natasha, you really have the worst taste. How can you pass up a big boss like Mr. Buchanan to mess around with some penniless beggar? Give that card back to him right now and go with Mr. Buchanan." Natasha clutched the card, her knuckles turning white. She looked up at me with pleading eyes. "Spencer, I'm begging you, please just leave. I don't want to drag you into this." The more she acted this way, the fiercer the fire inside me burned. I turned to face Shaun. "You just said that as long as Natasha goes with you, you'll get Mrs. Ferris her surgery, right?" Assuming I was backing down, Shaun lifted his chin smugly and said, "That's right. Dr. Dickinson is my uncle. One word from me and it's done." "Okay," I said with a nod. "Then what if I can get Mrs. Ferris to have her surgery today?" Shaun looked at me with utter contempt. "You? Get her mother the surgery today?" He guffawed exaggeratedly, clutching his stomach and doubling over. "Dude, did you hit your head or something? Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a kidney donor or how much the surgery costs? Even I'd have to pull strings and call in favors; what's more to say a broke loser like you?" Henry curled his lip disdainfully at the side. "Young people these days are all talk." Ignoring their mockery, I took out my phone and dialed a number. "Hello, Mr. Woods." The respectful voice of the director of Trinity Hospital, Herman Woods, came through from the other end of the line. "Mr. Garrison, what can I do for you?" "Arrange the best specialists to consult Edna Seymour in the nephrology ward and prepare her for surgery immediately." I paused, my gaze sweeping over Shaun. "Also, look into Dr. Dickinson in the nephrology department. If he's been engaging in any malpractice, fire him on the spot." After I hung up the phone, silence fell over the cafe. Shaun froze for a few seconds, then erupted into even louder laughter. "Oh my god! With acting skills like that, it's a crime you're not winning acting awards. Mr. Woods? Fire my uncle? Who do you think you are? The director of the Health Bureau?" Natasha anxiously tugged at my sleeve. "Spencer, stop messing around. Why would Mr. Woods possibly take your call?" She sighed, her voice filled with exhaustion. "I know you mean well, but this isn't something you can take care of." She turned her head toward Shaun, her eyes growing completely dim. "Shaun, I'll go with you. But I have one condition—call Dr. Dickinson right now and get the surgery arranged." "Sure thing." Shaun smirked triumphantly and pulled out his phone. "Dude, watch and see what real influence looks like." He dialed Dr. Dickinson's number and put the call on speakerphone. "Hey, Uncle Pete? It's me, Shaun." A panicked voice burst through from the other end. "Shaun? Who the hell did you piss off?" Shaun froze. "Uncle Pete, what's wrong? Who messed with you?" Dr. Dickinson roared hysterically over the phone, "The hospital just issued an emergency notice—I've been suspended pending investigation! Even Mr. Woods personally got involved and asked about Mrs. Ferris' case! "You good-for-nothing brat! Have you been throwing my name around and stirring up trouble?" All the colors drained out of Shaun's face. "Suspended? How is that possible?" He jerked his head up and stared at me, terror surfacing in his eyes. "Just who are you?"