Warning: This book doesn't promote body shaming of any kind. It is to show the gullible nature of some humans in placing judgment using physical appearance as a measuring tool for someone's quality. It's okay to have your preference, but enforcing it on others because you're genetically lucky is unfortunate. Not everybody would be a 'ten' as you perceive, but that doesn't make them any less attractive.

And, if you were with someone when they had this beauty and wealth, when things go wrong for them, instead of leaving, support and love them more. Remember, what you reject today will become someone else treasure tomorrow, and by the time you realize that it will be too late for you.

All humans are beautiful. Don't let social media and perception fool you into looking for perfection. Again, it's okay to have a preference.

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This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or used fictitiously.

Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

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The beginning...

MEREDITH:

"Alan, please. Don't do this to us. We've been perfect for each other without any issues. We've gotten through a lot over the past six years. Are you just going to throw everything away – all the promises you made to me, our friendship?" I shamelessly pleaded with my long-time boyfriend. Today wasn't supposed to unfold like this; we were meant to celebrate our seventh anniversary. Or so I thought. However, Alan had other plans.

"Stop this, Meredith. You're embarrassing me," Alan snapped, his beautiful green eyes, for some reason, lacked the usual emotions of love, care, and protection that I was accustomed to. It dawned on me that something had changed.

"Baby, I'm sorry if I'm embarrassing you. Tell me what I did wrong. What went wrong? Let me fix it. I'm not giving up on us. We can work on whatever the problem is," I desperately expressed, not ready to lose the man I loved. I couldn't imagine living without him.

Alan sighed, "I don't want to get angry with you because you're a good person, Meredith. But what you're doing right now is disgusting," he said.

"Disgusting that I'm trying to get to the root of the problem and possibly save our relationship," I questioned, confused and hurt.

"You can't save it. Let me be truthful with you. I've lost feelings for you. There's someone else I've been seeing for a while, and I'm in love with her. She's pretty, smart, funny, and has a gym body with a huge ass. One day, you'll understand that what I did was best so that we don't end up wasting each other's time," Alan dropped the bomb, shattering my world.

My entire world shattered into pieces. All I could manage to ask was, "Why, Alan? I've done nothing but love you all these years, and you do this to us? Do I deserve this? I never lied, cheated, or hurt you. You know how this period is with me. It's a time I need you badly. You chose now to hurt me like this. The one time I need you, and you're leaving me?" I asked, feeling the weight of betrayal.

"You'll forgive me one day. You can hate me now, but the feelings will fade. If it helps, I don't want you beating yourself up. This is on me. You never did anything wrong. In fact, until now and forever, no one will be able to replace you in my life. Let's continue being friends. If we are truly meant to be, we'll find a way back to ourselves," he claimed, leaving me in disbelief.

Friends? Was that the level he had reduced us to? A man I planned a life with, who made promises never to leave, hurt, or cheat on me, stood there praising another girl and leaving me behind. Alan and I met when I was sixteen, and he was nineteen. It wasn't love at first sight. Truthfully, I hated his arrogant attitude. But over time, we became friends and got to know each other better, leading to us developing into best friends, and eventually, we started dating.

During the early stage of our relationship, he was poor and lacked direction in life. Yet, he was the most beautiful person in my eyes. I believed he would achieve greatness, driving me to support and stand by him, confident that things would improve. I saw something in him beyond physical looks. He struggled with dressing, charisma, and looks, fighting to surpass puberty and become an adult.

After navigating through years of ups and downs with reassurance and hope, we conquered school, and he ventured into coding. This marked another phase of endless support and healing, absorbing his distress, patiently waiting, and grooming him to become a better version of himself – a true man.

Despite everything, Alan was the sweetest, most considerate, and kind boyfriend, showering me with absolute love. Or so he made me believe. Perhaps, he did all that to keep me, fearing loneliness while discovering himself.

We discussed the future extensively – kids, family, and the entire fairy-tale world. He promised never to let go. Yet, now that it was time for him to keep his end of the bargain, he was bailing on me.

Alan stood in the private café he had rented out, seeking privacy amidst the press frenzy that followed him now that he was a big name. "Meredith, I've got to go. I have things to attend to."

I stared blankly at the breathtaking six-eight-foot boyfriend of mine, now destined to become my ex. I looked at the amazing transformation we achieved together, from a pudgy nerd to a supermodel with ripped abs, achieved through my encouragement for him to start working out and a strict diet. He looked far better than when I met him. Now, he was every woman’s dream, although I doubted any of them would have given him a second glance before.

"Did you ever cheat on me?" I needed to know, the uncertainty gnawing at me despite Alan never giving me a reason to doubt him.

"You don't want to know the truth. Let's leave it," he deflected, pulling out cash to cover our untouched dinner.

"It doesn't change anything. You've already broken up with me," I replied, my appetite gone.

Running his hand through his neatly trimmed brown hair, Alan admitted, "Yes, I cheated on you. That's why I'm ending it. The guilt of pretending everything was fine when my mind and body were elsewhere... I can't keep doing that. I don't want us turning into mortal enemies. I know I'm a bad person for holding onto you while not being fully in this relationship. I kept you from moving on because I was scared of losing someone who loved me uniquely. I'm sorry for wasting your time."

Before I could brace myself, tears streamed down my face. "I can't breathe," I managed through the pain.

"Stop the drama, Meredith. You're not the first to get dumped," he coldly responded. "Be grateful we didn't have a child to constantly remind you of me."

Struggling to focus, I repeated, "I can't breathe."

"F*ck this! I don't have time for this. Have a good life, Meredith," were his parting words before everything went dark, and I passed out.

MILES:

"Grenada, I told you that I’m fine. I don’t need babysitting. If I’ve lived this long, survived a heart transplant, recuperating shouldn’t be an issue."

"I’m just doing my job, Mr. Pierce. Besides, you signed an agreement to allow me to handle your health for life. Now, you’ve to follow my guidelines for six months, and you can fully go back to doing what you want."

It was becoming irritating; after my heart transplant and successful discharge two weeks ago, everyone treated me like a fragile being. No one seemed to heed my instructions or follow my orders. I returned to find my security team tripled, and when I confronted my head of security, he claimed it was an instruction I'd given before the surgery. They made it seem like I had partial amnesia, as I couldn’t recall initiating numerous changes to my schedule, house, and staff.

Not to worry, in a little time, things will return to normal. Meaning that many would lose their jobs. Did they think I had changed or something as minor as this would slow me down? If I was prepared for death and life gave me a second chance, the least I could do was make the most out of it.

For those unfamiliar with me, I am Miles Pierce, the most feared thirty-four-year-old billionaire in California. I've dominated the business realm, building companies that rake in roughly a billion dollars yearly after tax. When it comes to looks, I know I’m a rare creation, and my workout routine has helped maintain it. Although one can never have everything, and that was my case until an unexpected miracle happened.

Three years ago, I had a perfect life until they found a lump in my heart during one of my health checkups. Initially told not to worry, a few medications and minor surgery should suffice. With reassurance, I returned to my daily activities, listening and following instructions.

The universe had other plans for me, so I scheduled a follow-up checkup to learn more.

"Mr. Pierce," I remembered vividly; that was what Grenada called me. A moment that changed everything.

"Shoot. Good news or bad news? Don’t give me that pitiful look," I admonished her as I sat on the examination table, buttoning my suit.

“It’s bad news. A terrible one,” she hesitated, causing my impatience to rise.

“For goodness’ sake, out with whatever it is already. It’s getting on my nerves. I have an important meeting to attend,” I snapped, irritated by the delay.

Exhaling, she zoomed in on the image before me. “You might as well reschedule your meeting. The lump has grown worse. As it is, it has occupied eighty percent of your heart. It appears to me that it grew immune to the treatments and fought against the antibiotics instead.”

“I am lost. Can you break it down for me? Because all I hear is how incompetent my personal doctor is. What do you mean by 'it seems?' I don't pay you well for things to ‘seem’ to you. If you don’t know your job, I’ll educate you on it.”

Standing to my feet with swift force, I felt queasy, almost tripping on my own feet. Readjusting myself to get a better stance, I settled on the vacant chair close to me, attempting to regain my strength. It dawned on me that I was truly sick, and it was no joke.

“Miles,” Grenada called me once more, her serious tone cutting through.

“Instead of giving me more insight into the problem, I want a solution. Lots of it. How much would it cost to get this over with?”

“I am afraid money can’t fix this one. We need a heart transplant as soon as possible, or you will die.”

Death existed; that much I was aware of. Yet, I never thought it would stare me in the face so soon. Of all the people, it chose to attack me, rendering my guard defenseless. For what it’s worth, it could have taken some random person complaining about life or, better still, an ungrateful human trying to commit suicide. Yeah. Those were better options. Not me. I loved life so much because it was great for me. So, to have something tamper with my life left me beyond perplexed.

“Did you hear me, Miles?” Grenada swirled her chair as if she hadn’t just announced my impending demise. Looking all too comfortable and happy. How could she wear a stupid glowing face when I was about to die?

“I heard you. Do you have one ready to use? I mean the heart, of course.”

She shook her head a bit and put on her dead-serious face once more. “It doesn’t work that way. We need to put you on the waiting list. Moreover, it isn’t something you can buy off the shelf. It is a heart that needs to be relinquished by a donor.”

“All I hear is a problem without a solution. Tell me a solution.”

Linking her hands on top of the desk, she stared into my eyes without blinking. “We need to run a comprehensive test to find out what donor you need. Wait and pray that you get a match. It’s the only thing we can do.”

That was the last time I heard anything positive from my doctor until two years and three months later. It was always a negative answer. “Sorry, Mr. Pierce, we haven’t heard from the other hospitals yet. Sorry, Mr. Pierce, this one wasn’t a match. We are doing our best, Mr. Pierce. There’s nothing else for us to do. We’ve exhausted all our options, Mr. Pierce. We can only hope for a miracle.”

I received more apologies and faced numerous disappointments throughout those terrible two years and three months, making me give up. I accepted my fate of dying young and quickly. It led me to start putting things in place to make it easier after my demise. I also plotted revenge on my enemies.

Nevertheless, something different happened. I never believed in the fiction of miracles. I was the kind of guy who preferred scientific explanations to religious or spiritual ones. When the impossible happened, I was moved to retrace my stand on miracles.

Seven months ago, as I angrily swallowed the tons of pills keeping me alive, my phone buzzed on the bedside table. Ignoring the furious buzzing, I dropped the glass of water and cursed. “Who the fuck is blowing up my phone this early?” Reluctantly, I picked up the phone, preparing to shout the living daylight out of whoever it was.

Immediately I answered the call, I heard a voice and news that made me freeze. “Mr. Pierce, we’ve found a donor!” Grenada’s voice announced with overwhelming excitement in her tone.

That was truly an end to a beginning.