No Longer Bound
When my mother went into kidney failure and needed a transplant, it was Pauline Maynard—on the brink of death herself—who gave my mom a second chance at life.
Just before Pauline passed, she gripped my hand tightly and whispered her final words.
"Summer, Ricky is my only son. He's rebellious… and fragile. Please, take care of him. Just three years, please?"
I gave her my word.
Then I moved into their home and gave Ricky everything he needed—love, comfort, a sense of safety. For three years, I stayed true to that promise.
By the third year, Ricky had transformed. No longer the wayward boy he once was, he rose to become the Mafia Don Ricky Lenza. And I was carrying his child.
As I busied myself with wedding plans, I overheard something I was never meant to hear—his voice, low and mocking, as he wrapped another woman in his arms.
"Summer? She's just pretending to love me for the sake of my mother's inheritance and a stupid deal. A gold digger like her dreams of marrying me? What a joke."
A sharp pain pierced my chest, like thorns stabbing deep beneath the skin.
On the way to a prenatal checkup, we were hit in a crash. My baby didn't make it. And my mother, sitting in the passenger seat, shielded me with her life.
When I woke up, I stared blankly at the date on my phone.
Three days left. That would've marked the end of the three-year promise.
I realized then—I'd paid my debt to Pauline in full. It was time for me to go.