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Daughter Asks Doctor to Turn Her Dad’s Life Support Off, 'I Knew It!' Dad Wakes Up Smiling – Story of the Day

Rita Kumar
Oct 02, 2023
09:10 A.M.

"It's what he would have wanted," a young girl requests the doctor to shut off her dad's life support in the hospital. Suddenly, her dad's eyes twitch open, and he wakes up. "I knew it!" he smiles and sits up on the bed.

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The steady beeping of the medical monitors filled the sterile hospital room.

21-year-old Amelia stood by the bedside, staring at her father, Steve, plugged into the several medical devices surrounding him.

"Are you absolutely sure about this, Amelia?" The doctor broke the silence. "Once we start, there's no turning back."

Amelia exhaled a long, weary breath before asking the doctor to turn off her dad's life support. "I...I have to do it, doctor. He wouldn't want to live like this. It's what he would have wanted."

"Alright," the doctor reluctantly nodded, patting Amelia on the shoulder. "Nurse, get the things ready," he turned to the nurse.

Just then, a voice suddenly awoke with a start from the hospital bed.

"I knew it!" Steve twitched his eyes open and smiled at Amelia...

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"Dad! Y-You are awake?!" Amelia gasped.

Steve's senses began to emerge from the dark depths of his consciousness. A stabbing pain shot up his head as he sat up. But he couldn't remember anything.

"Mr. Oswald, can you hear me? Mr. Oswald?" the doctor waved his hand.

The sterile, antiseptic smell reminded Steve he was in a hospital ward. The constant beeping machines filled his ears, annoying him.

"H-How did I end up here?" he asked. "What happened?"

"Dad...it's okay. Just relax. Calm down."

"I knew you would come, sweetie. I could hear your voice in the back of my head…though I was unconscious. You are the only one who understands me. But what happened to me? What am I doing here? And wh-where's your Mom? And Chloe?"

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"Mr. Oswald, please don't strain yourself. You must rest. It's a miracle you survived!" the doctor chimed in.

"No, doctor! I need to know what happened to me. Amelia, why aren't you saying anything? Can somebody please tell me what's going on?"

Desperation and an untold fear gripped Steve's heart. He held his aching head, trying to recollect everything. Disoriented images of him holding a car key in his hand and getting into the car fully drunk were all he could remember now.

Nothing more.

"Can someone please tell me what's going on? What happened to me? Amelia, where's Mom...and your sister? Why are they not here?"

Amelia swallowed hard. "They are dead!" she said as Steve's eyes bulged in shock.

"And you're responsible, Dad. You killed them. You killed Mom and my sister. You did it."

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Steve's shoulders began to shake. "Wha-what do you mean I killed them? What happened to them?"

"Amelia, wait, let me do this. He mustn't stress," the doctor said, sidling past Amelia as he stood near a confused Steve and pressed his shoulder.

"What's happening, doctor? I don't understand. Where's my wife and daughter? What is Amelia saying?"

"Well, some time ago, you went out drinking, Steve," the doctor began. "...And then you took your car from the pub's parking lot and decided to drive. You were drunk beyond your senses. And...you got into an accident…

"…Your wife and younger daughter came rushing to meet you in their car. Unfortunately, they got into an accident on the way and…I am so sorry, Steve. Stay strong."

Steve held his head as he tried to piece together everything the doctor said.

"When was this, doctor?"

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The doctor sighed as he scanned the report. "This was a long time ago. Let me check...this happened way back in 2014, Steve."

"Way back?" Steve raised a brow, still holding his aching head. "What do you mean by way back?"

The doctor shook his head. "We're in 2021 now, Steve. You got into that accident seven years ago."

The doctor's words echoed like a thunderclap in Steve's ears.

"Seven years? We're in 2021?"

"Yes, Steve," the doctor said as he showed Steve that day's newspaper dated July 2021.

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"I can't believe this," Tears welled up in Steve's eyes as he grabbed the newspaper and saw the date. "It can't be. Seven years? I was in a coma for seven years? In this hospital?"

Amelia and the doctor nodded.

Steve's world crumbled around him as he clutched his head and cried. He was so confused…and shaken.

"It just...it just feels like I saw my wife and daughters yesterday...at home…before leaving for work. Amelia...darling, what happened to your wedding with Jake?"

Amelia's eyes filled with sorrow. "Dad, we'll talk about it later. You need to calm down and rest," she stood by Steve's side.

"No...I need to know everything," Steve cried. "And you...you look the same. You haven't changed a bit. You look like you haven't changed at all in these seven years. How old are you now?"

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"Seriously, Dad? Mom and Chloe are dead. You wake up after seven years of lying still in the hospital, and you're worried about my looks? My age? Wow."

Steve's voice trembled as he posed the question that weighed heavily on his heart.

"Amelia, please. You've got to tell me what happened. I can't recall anything. How did Mom and your sister die?"

"A drunk driver...a drunkard monster like you...rammed into their car," Amelia's voice broke. "Mom and Chloe...they died on the spot before the paramedics reached the scene..."

Steve was crushed, and a heavy silence hung in the air as Amelia's voice trailed off.

He burst into tears, holding his head, recalling just how cruel he had been to his own family...and how the evil grasp of alcohol had destroyed the beautiful life he once built with his wife Samantha and their kids...

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Before Steve was hospitalized...

It was a peaceful night in the quiet Maple Street neighborhood. While everyone had settled in their cozy homes, planning their children's future, career, and all things pleasant, Steve's phone was busy buzzing on his car seat.

But that night, Steve was not in his senses to answer the calls. He was just outside his home, in the driveway.

The screen flashed the umpteenth time with just one name — Samantha — against the backdrop of what looked like a wedding picture. It was Steve's and Samantha's beautiful wedding photo that he'd set as her caller picture.

It was his favorite photo of them together.

"Steve? Steve...open the door. Steve?" Samantha rushed out and worriedly banged on the window.

"Steve?"

"What?" Steve groaned. He was wasted beyond his senses even to notice the look of anxiety and shock in his wife's eyes.

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"Steve? What the hell? Not again."

"What are you doing? Sam...Oh God..." Steve moaned.

"Open this goddamn door right now," Samantha barked as Steve lowered the window. His breath stank of alcohol.

"Give that to me," Samantha angrily reached out to grab the whiskey bottle from her husband's grasp. But Steve was too quick. He quickly gulped down the last drop of whiskey and tossed the empty bottle on the seat.

"Steve, open the door and get out. NOW! We need to talk."

"Okay...okay. I'm coming. God, stop annoying me. I just got home," Steve mumbled, rubbing his puffy eyes.

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As soon as he opened the door and stepped out, Samantha peered inside. She was shocked and started yelling at Steve.

"I cannot believe that you're drinking beyond your senses and driving again. You promised me you wouldn't. Steve...answer me. What the hell's going on?"

"Sam, I wasn't drinking and driving, okay? I was just out with my friends. We had a little party. It's a normal thing. Don't make a scene," Steve argued.

"I'm okay. I can stand on my feet...see...I'm so steady!"

"Oh, really? Then what is this? And this?" Samantha yelled, throwing the beer tins and whiskey bottles out of his car. "You're lying to me again."

"Sam, babe, can we take this inside? Besides, I'm starving."

Samantha watched in disbelief as Steve dragged himself toward the main door and inside the living room, only to lose his balance and collapse near the stairs with a heavy thud.

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"Amy? Amelia, can you please come here and help me, honey?" Samantha cried out to her older daughter, Amelia. Her younger daughter, Chloe, had gone to a friend's house for a sleepover.

"What, no way? Is he drunk...again?" Amelia rushed to her mom's side as they tremblingly hurried Steve inside and laid him on the couch.

Samantha was seething. She couldn't take it anymore and watch her husband destroy the peace in their house.

"Mom, wait, where are you going?" Amelia ran after her mom to the kitchen.

Moments later, Samantha returned with a jug of cold water and splashed it on Steve, startling him to his senses.

"Samantha...what the hell is wrong with you?" Steve barked and jumped up with water dripping all over him.

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"You need help, Steve," Samantha argued. "What if our little daughter saw you like this? What will she think about you?"

"Oh, c'mon, Sam. Our daughter is asleep. She'll only come to know if you don't stop barking," Steve waved his hand and groaned. His head hurt so much due to all that drinking and partying at the bar.

"Besides, I'm an adult. I'm 45, damn it. I bust myself all day for you guys...so I deserve a little time for myself. I don't have to answer all your questions."

Steve sank back onto the couch and stretched his hand, asking Samantha to help him to his room. But she refused.

"You're right! You're an adult...and you don't need anyone's help. Crawl upstairs yourself. And you know what? Chloe is not home. She's having her sleepover today...and you don't even know where your daughter is. Wow! You are certainly Dad of the Year."

"Go to hell," Steve mumbled as he grabbed his jacket and wobbled his way upstairs.

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"Mom? Now what?" Amelia rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Is he not gonna stop drinking? I hate seeing Dad like this. I hope he doesn't make a scene at my wedding."

"Sweetie, go to bed. We'll talk tomorrow. I will put an end to this soon. Don't worry."

Steve was sound asleep when the morning rays filtering through the bedroom window roused him from his peaceful slumber.

"Uh, what is wrong with you? It's early in the morning. Turn off the lights," he groggily mumbled. "My eyes are hurting...Sam...turn off the goddamn lights."

"Steve, wake up, daddy bear! It's seven in the morning. Get up!" Samantha pulled Steve's blanket.

"Stop! I don't have to think about work for another three hours. The office starts at ten. Let me sleep. My head hurts."

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Samantha sat beside Steve and smiled, brushing his hair with her fingers. "Honey, did you forget about your promise?"

"What promise?"

"You told me you would jog every morning with me. And join the gym. Remember? And you would start dieting...have you forgotten?"

"When did I promise? I don't recall anything like that. Now, please, let me go back to sleep."

"No way! Get up, lazybones. It's time to exercise," Samantha forced Steve to get up.

"I can't, Sam. I'm tired. I want to sleep. I'm not feeling well."

"You'll be fine once you get up, honey. C'mon now, up! I made some orange juice. Freshen up."

But Steve refused, holding his chest tight. "Please, can we go tomorrow? My chest is burning. I'm feeling a bit sick. Guess it's last night's fried chicken."

It got Samantha worried, but she persisted.

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"No, Steve, you can't do this all the time, okay? It would hardly take you five minutes to get ready. Now, c'mon...move it! I'm not buying your stupid excuses."

"Sam, I can't. I'm not feeling alright. I'm feeling weird in my chest. It's hurting."

Uneasiness and anxiety washed over Samantha. She couldn't clearly make out if Steve was lying to her. But the way he clutched his chest tightly made her heart race.

"Honey, remember what Doctor Craig said the other day? You need to take your health more seriously, Steve. You've been drinking like crazy...and overeating, which is not good for your health. Please, listen to me. You need to work out...and change your eating habits."

"Oh yeah...Doctor Craig must be telling this to all his patients. It's no big deal. You know what? You're the main reason I have half my health problems…

"…My heart burns, and I get so exhausted coz of your non-stop nagging all the time. Stop giving me your useless advice, okay? Leave me alone. Don't get me started early in the morning," Steve scowled.

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Heartbroken by his words, Samantha hurled the blanket on his face and angrily stormed away.

A loud live baseball commentary filled the living room as Samantha walked in with her younger daughter, Chloe, later that evening after picking her up from school.

"Hey, pumpkin! How was your day in school? How was your play? Did it go well?" Steve greeted his daughter with a warm smile as he sat on the couch with a packet of chips and cola.

"Oh, great! So you remember I had a play today. Where were you, Dad?" Chloe confronted. "You told me you'd be sitting in the front row...clapping and cheering for me. But I never saw you there. You missed my play again."

Steve exchanged a glance with Samantha and understood she was furious.

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"Hey, bunny, Dad was sick today, love. So I took some rest. I'm so sorry for not making it this time," Steve fabricated a lie.

But Samantha quickly noticed the cans of beer he was hiding under the cushion.

"I promise...I'll not miss your next play, okay?" Steve added.

"I have a play in two weeks. I hope you'll keep your word and make it to that," Chloe said with her eyes downcast and retired to her bedroom.

As soon as their daughter disappeared upstairs, Samantha crossed her arms and stared at Steve, demanding an explanation.

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"Alright...look, before you get started like an old, broken record...I was really sick, okay?" Steve pulled a long face as he reasoned.

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"Otherwise, I would've been there. I promise I'll go the next time without fail...promise!"

"Oh, great! So you mean all this is making you healthier?" Samantha pointed to the empty, crumpled packets of chips and popcorn scattered around Steve.

"Honey, stop! What are you doing?" Steve gasped when she leaned closer and pulled out the cans of beers he had hidden.

"And this? God, for once, Steve. Why don't you take things seriously? I don't want to become a widow so young...and when we have a young daughter to raise…and one who is getting married soon. Why don't you understand and start acting like a responsible father?"

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"It's not a big deal, Sam. You're making a scene for every small thing," Steve argued.

"You call this small thing? Really? Wow! And did you skip work today? You don't look like you went to the office at all. You're still in your pajamas."

"C'mon, Samantha. I told you I have plenty of sick days. I won't lose any pay, don't worry. I'll take care of it. We're just two weeks ahead of my payday...and we will party once I get paid, okay?"

"You think I'm worried about money…and partying, Steve? No. Absolutely not! I'm growing sick of you killing yourself every day...with all that heavy drinking and your unhealthy eating habits."

"Oh, not again, Samantha. I'll sleep it off and be alright after a night's rest, okay?"

"A night's rest won't fix anything, Steve. And you know what? If something happens to you, it doesn't just affect you. It affects all of us...Amelia, Chloe...me. Why aren't you getting that into your goddamn head?"

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"Sam, you're complicating things by overthinking. I'm fine. Nothing's gonna happen to me," Steve said, grabbing another can of beer. "Just look at me...I'm healthy...and fine. Daddy bear is alright...see!"

"Great! You're fine by drinking…and partying with your good-for-nothing friends? Wow!" Samantha fumed. "I'm so sick of this. I've done everything I can to make you realize your mistake...but if you're done with your life, then so be it. But you don't have the right to ruin your family, Steve."

"Oh, God! You know what, Samantha? Why don't you take a break and just—" Steve rose from the couch, coughing.

"Steve? Are you alright? Steve?" Samantha panicked.

Steve clutched his chest tightly and collapsed on the couch.

"Steve...hey? What happened, Steve?"

Steve groaned in pain. "I...I can't...breathe..."

Terrified, Samantha rushed to grab her phone and called 911.

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A few hours later, Steve opened his eyes in the hospital, with Samantha and his children by the bedside.

"Daddy!" Chloe ran and hugged her father.

"Hey, pumpkin. Daddy's gonna be alright. Don't worry."

"Amy, can you please take your sister outside for a minute and wait? I'll be right back," Samantha turned to Amelia.

As soon as the girls left the ward, Samantha turned to the doctor as she squeezed Steve's hand. She'd seen the uneasy look on the doctor's face as he studied the reports and knew something was wrong.

"What is it, doctor? Is everything alright?"

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"Mrs. Oswald, we're still waiting for the test reports to come from the lab," the doctor said. "But looking at your heart check-up report, I'm so concerned, Steve. Have you been drinking a lot lately?"

Steve painfully sighed. He did not want the doctor to tell further if it was some bad news. Samantha pressed Steve's hands, nudging him to talk.

"It's nothing extraordinary, Doc...you know..." Steve pulled a face. "Just four or five bottles of whiskey. Iced, of course. Not neat!"

"Only four or five?" Samantha whispered and rolled her eyes.

"Alright...just seven or eight bottles. Not more than that…I swear," Steve confessed.

"Seven or eight bottles a week?" the doctor exclaimed.

"No...every other day."

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"That's quite a problem you're brewing for yourself, Steve," the doctor shook his head. "And how about your diet? Are you eating healthy? Do you work out every day?"

"Well, I do, you know. I jog every morning...hit the gym...with my wife. We have a gym for staff in my office. I...er...work out there whenever I get the time."

"No! He's lying," Samantha chimed in, raising a brow. "Stop lying, Steve. You shouldn't lie to your doctor."

"He does nothing other than drink daily after work...and eat unhealthy snacks, doctor," Samantha added. "I advised him to work out with me. To join the gym. To stop drinking. To exercise. But he won't."

"You got to listen to your wife, Steve," the doctor said. "If you don't start exercising, start eating a healthy diet, and stop drinking for a while, then...."

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"Steve, you must change your lifestyle at least temporarily, okay?" the doctor added. "...otherwise, the next time you come in...."

Samantha and Steve exchanged a worried glance as the doctor approached closer with a sympathetic look etched on his face.

"Let me get this straight...Steve, there may not be a next time if you don't change your ways. But it's never too late...if you get what I mean. So please take this very seriously, Steve."

Tears gushed into Samantha's eyes, and her heart raced. This was not something she had come prepared to hear. She only hated Steve's drinking and unhealthy eating habits, but not him. The doctor's words echoed in her head and stung her heart.

"Do you hear me, Steve?" the doctor jolted Steve.

"Yes, Doc. I do," Steve said, his gaze shifting to Samantha. "I promise. I promise I will change."

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"We've sent some samples for testing. We're still trying to figure out if it was just a heartburn or a heart attack," the doctor added.

"Mrs. Oswald, I'll call you once I get the results. They should arrive in a couple of weeks. Take care, Steve. And remember what I said. Have a nice day."

Once the doctor left, Samantha interpreted the confused look on her husband's face and grew worried.

"Honey, did you mean what you just said? That you won't drink...and change your lifestyle?" she asked him.

Steve sighed. "Sam, I'm not sure. But I'm getting this weird feeling that it was just really bad heartburn...not a heart attack."

"Okay, so you mean the doctor is lying, huh, Steve?" Samantha crossed her arms.

"No, I didn't say so. Why don't we just wait for the test results instead of drawing conclusions? Once the results arrive, we'll take things from there."

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Two days later, Steve returned to work, and while he was away, Samantha decided to clean the house.

They had been planning on throwing a family dinner soon, so she wanted the house to look prim and proper before the big day arrived.

Moreover, their oldest daughter, Amelia, was all set to marry her longtime boyfriend and fiancé, Jake, in a few weeks. So Samantha was busy cleaning the house and discarding trash and old items.

Just as Samantha gathered all the trash bags to dispose of them, she heard weird clinking noises emanating from one of the bags. She untied the bag and peeked inside, only to get the shock of her life.

"Hey, honey! How was your day?" Steve entered through the front door after a long day at work. He slowed down, and his smile slowly faded when he realized his wife was fiercely staring at him.

"Sam, is everything okay? I was thinking maybe we could order takeaway for dinner and..."

Steve paused when Samantha angrily placed the empty whiskey bottles and beer cans on the kitchen counter.

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"Sam...I...let me explain. I..."

"No," Samantha fumed. "What will it take for you to take this seriously, Steve?"

"Ah, c'mon, Sam. It's just a couple of beer cans and two whiskey bottles. Nothing serious. I'm alive in front of you. Not that I died of a heart attack."

"I mean, it's not a big deal. I am not drinking nearly as much as I used to. You can see that, okay?" Steve argued politely.

"Oh, no big deal, right?" Samantha hissed. "So if it's no big deal, Steve, then why did you hide these bottles and cans? Why didn't you drink openly like you always did? Why did you hold your chest and get admitted to the hospital?"

"You haven't been working out like you promised. You haven't changed your lifestyle even a bit. And now...you started drinking again? Is this how you keep your word?"

Steve pulled out a can of beer from his pocket and slammed it on the counter.

"You know...I feel I'm in good shape and healthy despite drinking all this. I'm happy and peaceful...until you start lecturing me and chewing my brains all the time," he barked.

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"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, you're the reason why I'm having those annoying heartburns or heart attacks in the first place. And you know what...I should've told the doctor that."

"Stop it, Steve...enough! You were in the hospital, and you could barely walk. You couldn't even go to the toilet on your own without my help...

...what is it going to take you to take the doctor's advice more seriously, Steve? Our daughter's wedding is arriving. Have you forgotten?"

"The reason, Samantha. Coz we still don't know what it is. We're not sure what made us rush me to the hospital," Steve yelled.

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"Until we figure out what exactly happened, I don't think there's a point in me changing. And I'm sure I'll be steady enough and sober to walk Amelia down the aisle. You don't have to worry about that, okay?

…Besides, I'm not the only man who drinks. There are thousands of men drinking out there...are they all dead? No, right? Are they happy? Probably…coz they don't have an annoying wife like you who keeps schooling them all the time. God. Don't put words in my mouth."

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"Come again...really, Steve? You wanna do this?" Samantha snapped, only to be interrupted by a phone call.

"Look, I'm tired. I'm going to take a shower and watch a movie. Can you take that?" Steve smirked, walking away.

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Samantha sighed disappointedly as she picked up the phone and answered. "Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs. Oswald. Doctor Craig here."

"Oh, hello, Doctor Craig," Samantha gasped, hoping to receive some positive news about Steve's reports.

"I called to let you guys know that your husband, Steve, is absolutely okay!" the doctor said. "It was just a case of severe heartburn caused by acidity. Nothing to worry about. He should take the medicine I prescribed if the heartburn returns."

"Okay!" Samantha heaved with relief. "I'll let him know, doctor. Thanks for calling!"

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Samantha raced upstairs to deliver the good news to Steve and stopped in her tracks when she saw him opening another can of beer in his room.

She thought for a while and pulled out her phone.

After switching to silent mode, Samantha pressed the mobile against her ear and began talking loudly, garnering Steve's attention.

"Oh no, doctor. I wasn't expecting such bad news from you," Samantha uttered as Steve paused and listened.

"I...I just can't believe it. I understand, yes...I will. I just...I can't believe this is happening. It's so heartbreaking. I don't know how to process this… Yes…thank you."

"So, what did Doctor Craig say? That it was just heartburn? I knew it!"

Samantha suddenly burst into tears as Steve put the beer tin on the table and approached her. "Hey...hey, what's going on? Why are you crying?"

"It wasn't a heartburn, Steve," Samantha replied. "You did have a...heart attack...

...and there's something else the doctor told me based on your reports. You have only two months to live if you're lucky."

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Blood drained off Steve's face, and his eyes grew moist. He just didn't know how to process this news.

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"Two months to live? Wha-what are you talking about?" he broke down. "We'll visit another doctor. We'll visit more if we can. It could be a mistake with the reports."

Samantha saw the desperation to live in Steve's eyes.

"The reports won't lie, Steve. Doctor Craig is one of the top specialists in this field. He won't lie."

"I...I don't want to die like this," Steve cried. "No...I'm not ready to die. I haven't traveled around the world. I...I haven't taken you guys to Paris...

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...I haven't posed for those pictures Amelia wanted of us under the Eiffel Tower. I...I want to live. I want to see Chloe growing older. I want to walk Amelia down the aisle. I want to watch her get married. I'm not ready to die, Sam."

"There's nothing we can do, Steve," Samantha feigned tears. "Unless you listen to what the doctor told you. You have to quit drinking. Start eating healthy...and work out every day. By doing all this, you might have a slim chance."

"Sam, I don't want to die. I am ready to do anything. I want you to help me. Please, I want to live. Help me."

Steve hugged Samantha, pleading with her to help him overcome this darkest phase of his life.

"I'm here for you, Steve! You don't have to worry," Samantha shed tears of joy, guessing little about the hefty price she'd have to pay for her lie.

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As days passed, Steve changed his lifestyle. He quit drinking, ate healthy, and even hit the gym daily. He emptied all the whiskey bottles and beer down the sink as Samantha watched with a big, fat smile.

Even Amelia and Chloe applauded Steve for it.

He loved transitioning into the new person he was now. It was as if the storm had calmed down and the lost peace had been restored in their cozy little house.

Steve focused on his work and devoted more time to his family. He stopped partying with his friends and never dropped by the bar, their favorite hangout spot, to even say hi to them.

Steve had completely changed! He even attended Chloe's school play and cheered out loud for her. They went on picnics every weekend and went grocery shopping together.

With time and without the evil grasp of alcohol, Steve became this whole different person Samantha and the kids yearned for and loved.

But one day, everything changed when Steve went grocery shopping alone.

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"Canned beans...peanut butter...." Steve muttered as he tossed the items in his shopping cart.

Just as he finished shopping and stopped by at a nearby gas station, he ran into Doctor Craig.

"Hey, there, Doc!" Steve greeted the doctor and patted him on the shoulder.

"Hey, Steve! How are you doing?"

"Good!"

Doctor Craig was really excited to see Steve looking fit, energetic, and smiling.

"I don't have to ask! But I can see that you've been taking my advice seriously, Steve!" the doctor smiled. "Looks like you've lost a bit of weight. You look great, man!"

"Yes, I am, Doc," Steve said. "I'm eating healthy. I work out daily. It has become a ritual now! And I quit drinking."

The doctor was astonished. "I see! That's incredible news, Steve."

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"How's everyone at home? All good?"

"Yes! I spend more time with my family nowadays. Everything's good...couldn't have been better," Steve smiled. "All thanks to you...and Samantha."

"Great! See you then!"

"Alright...hey...hey," Steve stopped the doctor. "Doc, I just wanted to ask you something. Uhm...wha-what do you think the chances are now?"

Doctor Craig raised a brow because he had no clue what Steve was talking about.

"Chances? I don't get you. What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, when we got the test results...and I have only two months to live...A month is already over. Now that I'm healthier, you know...is there a way to reverse it?"

"What two months? Reverse what? I don't understand what you're talking about," the doctor suspiciously grinned.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images

For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images

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"Doc, you called up Samantha...and you told her I have only two months to live after suffering a massive heart attack," Steve explained. "...after getting my test reports..."

Steve stared into the doctor's eyes as he awaited a response.

"I...uhm...No. I don't remember saying anything like that to your wife, Steve," the doctor said, leaving Steve shaken to the core. "You had just suffered a severe heartburn. I informed Samantha about this. Didn't she tell you?"

Steve froze.

He angrily drove home to confront Samantha, feeling betrayed and defeated.

"How could she lie to me? How dare she do this to me?" his mind raced.

"Samantha? Samantha, you home? You better come here and explain yourself. Samantha?"

Steve pulled out his phone and called his wife. But his calls went unanswered and then to voicemail.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

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An hour later, the front door swung open, and in walked Samantha with a big shopping bag in her hand.

"Honey, sorry I'm late! We were shopping for Amelia's bridal gown. You should see her in that gown. OMG! She looks so pretty...like an angel," Samantha chuckled as she tossed the car keys on the table.

"Babe, are you alright?"

Without uttering a word, Steve grabbed a bottle of whiskey and put it on the table, startling Samantha.

"Steve, did you drink...again? You can't be serious. What the hell?" she fumed.

Clasping his fingers tightly, Steve stared Samantha in the eye. "I met someone at the gas station today."

Samantha's brows shot up. "Who?"

"Doctor Craig."

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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Terror surged into Samantha like a flood. "Steve...honey...I...I can explain...I'm sorry I...."

"Explain what, Samantha?" Steve slammed the table and rose. "You lied to me. You told me I would die. You played with my feelings by thinking you were outsmarting me."

"Do you even know how hard it was for me to change? My whole body started aching. It was like walking on a bed of needles. But I still changed...I pressed forward despite all that pain...and emotional struggle. Coz I trusted you."

"Honey...wait...Steve, come back. I did this for you...for us. Please."

But Steve had already disappeared through the front door. Samantha burst into tears as she heard his car leave. At this point and at this hour, she knew Steve would retire to only one place — The Moonlight Bar.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

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As days passed, everything changed in the once-happy household. Steve returned to his old habits of drinking and overeating junk food. He stopped caring about his health and started coming home late and drunk.

Samantha could do nothing to change him as Steve had lost all trust in her. He partied hard with his friends and took unwanted sick leaves. Not that he completely forgot about his family, but some old habits die hard, and this was something Steve was dealing with.

One night, he visited the bar after work and downed two bottles of whiskey. Steve was drunk out of his mind and wanted to drink more.

"Excuse me, can you make me another shot, please?" he asked the bartender. "I'll have another one of those. Thank you."

Seeing Steve was overly drunk, the bartender smirked and refused. "I'm sorry. I think you've had enough."

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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Steve's phone kept buzzing on the counter. Samantha was endlessly calling him. It was close to the midnight hour, and she grew worried as Steve was usually never this late.

"Another shot," Steve grimly told the bartender again after he returned from fixing someone's drink.

"No. I'm sorry, sir. We're closing in ten minutes."

"Fine!" Steve scowled, grabbing his car keys and phone. "I'm sure there are plenty of bars open elsewhere."

"Sir, you're not driving in this condition, are you?" the bartender grew concerned.

"That's none of your business, pal. Here, keep the change!"

Steve slammed the change on the counter and wobbled out of the bar.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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"Which is my car...there, the gray one...no, it's the blue...nah, it's the red car over there," Steve mumbled, approaching the parking lot.

He pressed the car key fob, triggering his car's horn and lights in the crowded parking lot. "Ah, there...my beauty...on wheels!"

Steve shakily got into his car and ignited the engine. A few minutes later, he got down at a bar and purchased a bottle of whiskey. But this time, Steve decided to go home instead and enjoy his drink before going to bed.

He settled into his car seat and ignited the engine. That was the last coherent memory Steve could piece together from that fateful night. He had no clue what had gone wrong after he started driving...

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

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Present day...

"I...I don't understand," Steve was confused. "I don't have any injuries. But my head hurts so much. What happened to me, doctor? How severe was this accident? Did I run over someone...or something?"

"Mr. Oswald, you don't have any injuries because the accident happened seven years ago. The scars on your body have faded...but the ones in your mind..." the doctor sighed.

Steve burst into silent sobs, asking Amelia to take him to Samantha and Chloe's graves to pay his respects.

"I...I shouldn't have drunk...like ever," he wailed. "It destroyed my family. I should've listened to Samantha. You're right, Amy. I did this to your mother and sister. I killed them due to my stubbornness and stupidity."

"It's over, Dad. Everything's over," Amelia said. "There's no point in crying now. Sometimes, life never gives us another chance, and we must make amends when we have the time with us."

"God, I wish I got that second chance, Amy. I would never think of that home-wrecking alcohol again. I would spend all the time I've got with my family. And bend the skies to make you guys happy. I would change…and never go back to that dark hell of addiction again."

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"Are you sure you mean what you said, Dad?" Amelia asked.

"Yes! I do! I mean it!" Steve sobbed, only to be startled by a familiar voice.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images

For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images

"Daddy!" Chloe burst into the ward and hugged a shocked Steve. He was jolted. And his heart almost skipped a beat.

"Chloe?? You...you alive?"

"Then what did you think, Steve?"

"Ss-Samantha?!"

Steve's eyes bulged in shock when he looked up and saw Samantha standing there.

"Samantha!" Steve jumped from his bed and threw himself into her arms. "You alive? Wha-what's going on? Amelia just said you guys met with a car crash...and died seven years ago."

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Samantha exchanged a shy glance with Amelia before confessing something.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images

For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images

"You made me do this, Steve. Last night, you were drunk out of your mind when you pulled over outside our house. As soon as I saw you, I decided that this has to end," Samantha began.

"So, with Amelia's help, I put you in the driver's seat and brought you here...to the hospital."

"We initially planned to surprise you with a fake note saying 'We're leaving you.' And stay at Grandma's house for a few days so you'd think we were missing. We assumed it would keep you distracted from drinking…at least for a while."

"But then, I decided it would only give you all the liberty you wanted to drink and party with your friends without us watching over you. So we plotted something else..."

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

"With Doctor Craig's help, we made this whole setup...and orchestrated your accident to make you believe you were in a coma for seven years!"

"I saw your fingers twitching, Dad…I knew you were almost awake and could hear me out. So I realized it was the perfect time to tell the doctor to turn off your life support to make the coma part of our plan even more believable...so you wake up thinking you were in a coma! Actually, you were not on any life support coz you were not in a coma!"

"What?! No...no way…Oh my God! " Steve gasped in shock.

"So...we're still in?"

"Yup! It's still 2014, Steve! The newspaper you saw is fake! You didn't get into any accident. It was just a little wake-up call, so you realize the importance of family and the trauma of losing your loved ones…

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…The way you broke down when you thought you lost Chloe and me...it's how we'd feel if something happened to you, Steve. We love you. We need you..."

"God...you guys almost...almost gave me a heart attack! What about Amelia's wedding?"

For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images

For illustration purposes only | Source: Getty Images

"I'm sorry I was a bit hard on you, Dad," Amelia chimed in. "The wedding's next week. I wanted you to walk me down the aisle as a changed man...as my old father who used to laugh with us...sing with us...and love us…without stinking of alcohol!"

Steve broke down and hugged his family. Watching this forced tears into Doctor Craig's and the nurse's eyes.

Steve was discharged from the hospital that day as he headed to a new beginning...a new chapter of his life with his wife and kids.

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The following week, he walked Amelia down the aisle and watched her wed the love of her life. Seeing his little girl grown up and holding another man's hand was so wonderful...and heartwarming.

Steve couldn't help but let his tears of joy freely flow. Samantha squeezed his hand and whispered how happy she was as they watched the bride and groom dance. The ceremony came to a beautiful ending as Steve and Samantha said their tearful goodbyes to the newlyweds.

"Thanks!" Steve looked into Samantha's eyes and smiled, determined to keep his promise.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

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Station guard Arnold sees a little girl lying alone on the bench and decides to help her. After learning her dad had left her there two days ago and never showed up, Arnold takes the little one home. However, a tear-jerking revelation awaits him. Here's the full story.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone's life. If you would like to share your story, please send it to info@amomama.com.

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