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“Can I see?”
She smiled in the kindest way possible.
“Maybe one day.”
So I let it go.
Everyone deserves one private corner of the world.
Sometimes, I caught her touching the edge of a small photograph tucked near the top of the bag. But whenever she noticed me looking, she would close it quickly.
Sarah, another orderly and my closest friend at the home, teased me about Gloria one afternoon in the break room.
“You know she’s basically adopted you, right?” Sarah said. “It’s funny. She transferred here right before you were hired. Almost like she was waiting for you.”
“She’s just lonely,” I said.
Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Daniel, that woman lights up when you walk in. She thinks the sun rises out of your pocket.”
I didn’t know how to answer.
I wasn’t used to being anyone’s favorite person.
Then, a few weeks later, I noticed Gloria’s hands shaking during a routine check. Her skin looked pale, and her breathing had changed. There was a faint rattle in it that made my stomach tighten.
She caught me watching.
Instead of looking away, she pulled the old bag closer to her chest.
Three weeks later, the ambulance came for her.
I rode with her to the hospital because there was no one else to call.
During her hospital stay, one afternoon, Gloria patted the mattress beside her.
“Sit, Daniel. I need to ask you something.”
I sat down. Her hand found mine, thin but still warm.
“I have one last wish,” she said quietly. “I know it will sound strange. But I don’t have much time left, and I don’t want to leave this world knowing I never had someone I could call my husband.”
Then she looked me straight in the eyes.
“Will you marry me?”
For a moment, I could not speak.
The heart monitor beeped steadily beside us.
“Gloria…”
“Don’t answer now,” she said gently. “Go home. Sleep on it. But please don’t say no just because you’re afraid of what people will think.”
And that was exactly what I was afraid of.
That night, I did not sleep.
By sunrise, I drove straight to the nursing home and pulled Sarah into the break room.
“I need to tell you something,” I said, “and please don’t laugh.”
Sarah set down her coffee. “Daniel, you look awful.”
“Gloria asked me to marry her.”
Sarah did not laugh.
She did not even blink.
Then she rubbed her forehead like a headache had just started.
“Please tell me you said no.”
“I haven’t answered yet.”
“Daniel,” she said carefully, “do you understand how this looks? A thirty-four-year-old orderly marrying an eighty-two-year-old woman with no family? People will say terrible things. Management will investigate.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Because this could destroy your career.”
“She’s dying, Sarah. She’s alone. She asked me for one thing.”
“She could have asked for a hundred other things.”
“But she asked for this.”
Sarah studied my face.
“You’re going to say yes, aren’t you?”
I looked down.
“I don’t know if what I have to lose matters more than what she has to lose.”
Sarah sighed. “That’s always been your problem, Daniel. You never believe you have anything worth protecting.”
That afternoon, I returned to Gloria’s hospital room.
She was sitting up with a paperback in her lap, and she smiled as soon as she saw me.
“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