How Much Would You Pay for Freedom

I had one important goal in life: to make as much money as I could, so I could be the perfect son and perfect husband to the girl I wanted to marry. To me, freedom meant giving my girlfriend anything she wanted to make her happy. Of course, it was a dream come true when I was given a job offer I couldn’t refuse, a job that would give me everything I needed.

This is what happened.

I was asked to do a day’s worth of consulting work at an office downtown. The interview was peculiar. All I had to do was finish a report within twenty-four hours. After that, I would get ten thousand dollars. Easy money for a day’s worth of work! 

Just as I was going to head home, I received an email:  work for a week at that office and receive one hundred thousand dollars! The catch was I couldn’t leave the office or talk to anyone for five days. It was worth the sacrifice for what I would get.

A week passed. I wrote reports and then got the cash deposited in my bank account. When my time was done, I called my girlfriend to tell her I was going to see her soon and I had a wonderful surprise. She was overjoyed. Then, I received another email.

This time, the pay was one million dollars. How could I refuse? I could buy my future wife the house we wanted and I could buy a new car!

Time passed. I finished the work, and finally, I was free. I wanted to surprise my love, so I didn’t want to waste any time and rushed over to her house. My mind was preoccupied with thoughts about what I would say to her. I didn’t realize how preoccupied I was until I got to the house and was surprised to see it had changed from blue to white.

I rang the doorbell. Maybe they had painted the house that week. The woman who answered was her mother. She gasped when she saw me, while I asked her if her daughter was home. I needed to speak to her immediately. I had the most wonderful news.

“Oh my gosh,” she said, opening the door a little so I could come in. “Where have you been? And why are you calling me by my mother’s name?”

I followed her eyes to the large wedding photo decorating the wall of the living room. It was a photo of my love as a bride, and the groom was another man. Then my eyes dropped to the baby stroller in the hallway next to me.

This wasn’t her mother. It was my love, many years older.  Where had all the years gone? I’d worked so hard to have the life I wanted, to be able to have the freedom to buy her everything she wanted, to give her the life she wanted. And now, she was married to someone else.

I thought of all the money in my bank account. I had everything and I had nothing.

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