Outside the Store, He Explained Why He Helped
I waited near the exit while he finished paying for his own items.
I watched him through the glass like he might disappear if I blinked.
When he came out, I touched his arm gently.
“Please,” I said quickly. “Give me your number or email. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can. Something must be wrong with my card, or the pension check—”
He shook his head, firm.
“No need,” he said. “Really.”
Then his voice softened.
“My mother passed two months ago,” he admitted. “You remind me of her.”
He paused, eyes fixed on something far away.
“Doing this in her memory… it helps.”
