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I never imagined I’d see him again—not after all these years, not after he rescued me from that brutal snowstorm and then disappeared without a trace. Yet there he was, sitting in the subway station, his hands outstretched for change. The very man who had once saved my life now needed saving himself. Memories of that fateful night rushed back—the biting cold, my frozen fingers, and his firm grip guiding me to safety. For years, I had wondered who he was and what had become of him. Now, fate had placed him before me once more, and I knew I couldn’t walk away. I invited him for a meal, bought him warm clothes, and found him a place to stay. But as he revealed the truth about his failing heart, my determination to help him grew stronger. His only wish was to see the ocean one last time, and I promised to take him.

The next day, just as we were about to leave, the hospital called with an emergency. Torn between duty and my promise, I chose to save a young girl’s life, vowing to return. But when I finally made it back, I was too late—Mark had passed away in his sleep. Guilt and grief weighed heavy on me as I realized I had broken my promise. Though I couldn’t take him to the ocean in life, I ensured he was laid to rest by the shore, where the waves could carry his memory. I had wanted to repay him for saving me all those years ago, but in the end, all I could do was honor the man who had once been my guardian angel.