“You came back sooner than I expected.”
“I have my answer,” I said.
She closed the book.
“I want to do it.”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back.
“Then yes?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
She squeezed my hand with all the strength she had left.
Beside her bed, the old canvas bag sat exactly where it always did, beneath her hand.
PART 2
A week later, Gloria and I were married in her hospital room.
A chaplain performed the ceremony. Sarah stood as our witness, quiet this time, without arguing. Gloria wore a soft pink cardigan and the same determined smile she had worn from the first day I met her.
I knew most people would never understand.
But if I could give a lonely, kind woman one final moment of comfort, then it felt like the least I could do.
Three days later, Gloria passed away in her sleep.
My hand was still resting beneath hers.
