A Divorce and a Forgotten Card

On the day of the divorce, Mark handed Anna a bank card out of pity. She took it, but for nearly two years, she didn’t even check the balance. It went untouched, buried in the deepest pocket of her wallet—a reminder of everything that was over.

Anna moved on. She worked, rented a small apartment, and tried not to look back. The card became a ghost of a past life.

A Sudden Emergency
Then came the call. Her mother needed urgent surgery. The bills were staggering. Her savings weren’t enough. There was almost no choice left.

On a cold evening, Anna approached an ATM. Fingers trembling, she inserted the card and entered the familiar numbers. The screen seemed to load forever. And then—the balance appeared.

Anna froze. Shock rooted her to the spot. The sum on the screen was unimaginable. It wasn’t just enough for the surgery. It was enough to secure her mother’s care and even a comfortable life after.

Confronting the Past
She stepped aside, leaned against the wall, and dialed Mark’s number. He answered immediately.

“You checked the card,” he said, calm.

Anna exhaled, struggling to process it all. “Mark, what does this mean? Where did all that money come from?”

There was silence. Then he spoke slowly:
“After the divorce, I realized I’d broken a lot of things. Not through fights or betrayal, but by always choosing myself. Every month, I set money aside. I transferred it to that card. I never thought you’d actually use it. It wasn’t meant as help—it was my way of living with the guilt.”

Gratitude and Closure
Anna closed her eyes. Years of resentment, raised voices, and the feeling of being erased seemed to vanish in that moment.

“You saved my mother,” she said softly. “And for that, I am truly grateful.”

Mark sighed. “I’m glad you took the card.”

Anna continued, firm but calm: “But don’t do this again. Not out of guilt. Not in secret. I need to know this was the last time.”

“I understand,” he replied. “I won’t do it again.”

Anna hung up, stared at the ATM one more time, and finally let herself breathe. Her mother would live.