“I own a business. You deserve better than struggling at a cashier’s job. Let me offer you something stable and real.”
Tears burned my eyes. “You don’t have to do this.”
“And I remember everything now,” he said, his voice laced with emotion. “The hiking trip. The storm. The fall. I remember waking up alone, miles from where I should have been, with no idea who I was or how I got there.”
The teenage girl tugged at his sleeve. “Dad, is this the angel you told us about?”
I felt my cheeks flush as Mr. Stallone looked at his daughter. “Yes, sweetheart. This is the lady who helped me when I was lost.”
The children broke away from her mother and ran to me, wrapping their arms around me. “Thank you for bringing our dad home.” Their voice was small but fierce with gratitude.
I couldn’t speak past the lump in my throat as I gently stroked their hair.
“Every night,” Emily said, wiping fresh tears, “for over a year, they prayed for someone to find their father. For so long, I didn’t know how to tell them he might never come home. And then, the call came…”
Mr. Stallone took his wife’s hand. “I still don’t remember everything… just fragments. My first wife’s death two decades ago, meeting Sandra after that, marrying her… and starting a new chapter. The doctors say some memories might never return. But I remember what matters most — my family, my life… and who I am.”
“You said you own a business?” I asked, still trying to process everything.
“The very people who were looking for you,” I whispered.
“Yes. The universe has a strange sense of humor.” He looked at my son, who had emerged sleepily from his bedroom. “And your boy there… he needs his mother to have opportunities she deserves.”
For the first time in a long time, I felt something shift. Like maybe… just maybe… life was about to get better. I looked at the man who had once been lost but now stood before me — found… truly found.
I nodded, wiping my tears. “Okay. I’ll take the job.”
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