I gave my best friend my kidney… and she took my fiancé

“My mom passed away three months ago.”

My throat tightened.

“Before she died,” Emily said, “she told me about you.”

I felt tears sting my eyes before I even realized they were coming.

“She said you were the most selfless person she had ever known,” Emily went on. “She told me you gave her a second chance at life.”

Emily reached into her folder and pulled out a sealed envelope.

“She also asked me to give you this.”

My hands trembled as I opened it.

The handwriting was unmistakable.

Anna,

I don’t know if you will ever read this. I’m not sure I deserve that chance. But I need to say what I never had the courage to say when you were still in my life.

What I did to you was the greatest mistake I ever made.

You gave me life. Literally. And I repaid you with betrayal.

Not a single year passed that I didn’t think about it. I wanted to call you so many times. I even dialed your number once, but I hung up before it rang.

I was ashamed.

I know I can’t undo what I did. But I want you to know that the life you gave me mattered. I spent it trying to be a good mother to Emily.

She wants to become a doctor someday.

Maybe, in some small way, that will honor the gift you gave me.

I’m sorry, Anna.

Always,
MelissaFor illustrative purposes only
By the time I finished reading, my vision was blurred with tears.

Across the desk, Emily watched me anxiously.

“My mom talked about you all the time near the end,” she said quietly. “She said you were the reason she got to live long enough to raise me.”

She hesitated, then added softly:

“I want to study medicine… because of that. Because someone gave her a chance.”

I wiped my eyes and looked at the young woman sitting in front of me.

For the first time, I noticed something familiar in her smile.

Not Melissa’s betrayal.

But Melissa’s kindness from long ago.

I reached for the scholarship application and signed the reference form.

Then I looked up at her.

“Emily,” I said gently, my voice still thick with emotion.

“Your mother was right about one thing.”

She leaned forward slightly.

“What’s that?”

I smiled through the tears.

“Some gifts are meant to keep saving lives.”