I woke up a billionaire after I kissed a bum I found passed out on the road. I lost my then-boyfriend because of it, but it was a decision I would never regret.
It happened back when I was 22 and working as a nurse. I had the best life; my job was paying well, I was in good health, and above all, I had been in a relationship with an attractive man named Rick.
We enjoyed each other’s company very much, so scheduling dates had been a frequent occurrence. One night, we were returning from an interesting date when I caught sight of a poor homeless man who stumbled and collapsed some paces ahead of us.
Rick saw the man as well, but when I moved to go help the stranger, he pulled me back and cautioned me not to get drawn in. “Don’t pay any attention to the hobo, Vanessa,” he said. “For all we know, it’s a ploy to rob us.”
“He looks like he needs help,” I replied. “I’m a nurse, it’s my job to help people and he can’t possibly try to rob me in the middle of town, can he?”
At that, I shrugged him off and ran to the helpless man. A quick check of his vitals showed he had just endured a heart attack. He needed CPR, or he would go into cardiac arrest, so I decided to perform it on him.
As I lowered my face, Rick screamed at me to stop. “If your lips touch his, I’ll never kiss you again,” he said.
I heard him loud and clear, but I still decided to call his bluff. I would not let the poor man pass away under my watch, so I administered mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
Rick was not happy about it. He yelled at me several times before he left. I had a bystander call 911, and I remained with the hobo on his trip to the hospital. It was the same one I worked at.
For some reason, I decided not to part with the poor man, and upon arriving at the hospital, I took over his treatment and checked him into a private ward.
I went home afterward to clean up. Rick was nowhere to be seen, and I didn’t mind since I was not in the mood to be yelled at. I returned to the hospital the next morning to see the hobo.
When he opened his eyes, I was the first person he saw, but rather than express concern for his health, he asked for his belongings. I brought them to him, and from his pocket, he fished out a letter he begged me to help him mail.
“Is it to your family?” I asked him.
“No,” he said. “It is to a company.”
That was all he said, and I did not wish to stick my nose into his business, especially when he was reluctant to talk about it.
I tried to talk to him about his family, but he told me he had no one. He looked better now than he did when I first saw him. He was an attractive man, and he called himself Nathan.
We spoke for some time before I left work, and on my way home, I helped him mail his letter. Rick was at my house, and he was mad. I remember thinking about how I shouldn’t have given him a second key as I walked in to hear him yelling.
“Where have you been all day? he asked. “With that hobo?”
“You know I have a job as a nurse Rick,” I said, tired of his drama.
I had called him repeatedly the previous day to talk, but he didn’t return any of my calls. I kept my phone close, hoping he would call me, but he didn’t, and there he was yelling at me for being out of sight.
“Why did you refuse to take my calls?” I asked.
“That’s beside the point Vanessa!” he yelled. “I came to tell you we’re done.”
“What?” I was shocked.
“We’re through. I can’t be with a disobedient woman who may or may not go around exchanging bodily fluids with other men in the name of saving them!” he said, then walked out.
I cried the rest of the night. The next day, I was doing my rounds when I discovered that the homeless man was gone. However, the other staff said he left in fairly good health the night before, so I decided not to worry.
A few months later, I was shocked when a large bouquet of blood-red roses was delivered to me. It came with a note.
“Dear Vanessa, thank you for going out of your way to help. Please accept this bouquet and go with the man who delivered it.”
I was confused by the message, but the other nurses urged me to follow the man who delivered the roses, so I did. He drove me to a fancy restaurant where I met Nathan, the hobo.
Nathan looked different, certainly not homeless. Our conversation demystified him. It turns out he was a scientist who had sold everything he owned to develop a new drug.
He had published his findings in the letter he begged me to help him mail, and it led to him being scouted by the company to spearhead the drug’s creation.
Thanks to his revolutionary drug, he made a lot of money, and he became wealthy. He reached out to thank me because had he lost his life that day, he would not have fulfilled his dreams.
We enjoyed conversing with each other so much, he scheduled another meeting the following day, and slowly, it morphed into a constant thing. After several months, he asked me to marry him, and I agreed. It seemed to me like it was fated to happen.
What’s more, my former boyfriend got sick at some point, and thanks to my fiancé’s drug research, he was cured. He later traced my address and begged me to return to him. I refused because I already made my choice and it not only brought me happiness, it also made me rich
