I really don’t know how it all happened.
One moment I am walking through the parking lot at work. I was running late, trying to navigate my rolling briefcase, a bundle of files in my arms, and dodging between parked vehicles. Normally I don’t wear high heels at work. My job involves a lot of moving about during the day, so flats are the best plan for my safety. But, I had woken up feeling super femme and slipped into a pair of three-inch wedge sandals. It was all too much: being in a rush, hands full, heels strapped on. I caught my shin on a truck bumper and went down, hard. Ass down, skirt hiked up, heels askew, gasping to catch my breath, and bleeding profusely from my shin.
It all happened so fast.
I shut my eyes for a second trying to collect myself and opened them to find you at my side, out of thin air. We haven’t actually met before, but I have stopped in my tracks twice watching you interview for a job in my office. And now, here we were. Face to face. Your hand on my shoulder. We were up and on our way to the emergency room moments later. I was in your car with your button down pressed against my leg when I noticed the silver band on your left ring finger. You held my hand as my shin was numbed, cleaned, and stitched shut and I wondered if your wife knows how lucky she is. You brought me home, helping me hobble up to my door and making sure I was settled before you left.
I still don’t know your last name. But thank you for being my hero of the year.