“You know she’s basically adopted you, right?”
“She’s lonely.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow.
“Daniel, that woman lights up every time you walk into the room.”
I looked away.
I wasn’t used to being anyone’s favorite person.
A few weeks later, I noticed Gloria’s hands shaking during a routine check.
Her skin looked pale.
Her breathing had changed too.
There was a faint rattle in her chest that made my stomach tighten.
She noticed me watching and pulled the old bag closer.
Three weeks later, an ambulance took her to the hospital.
I rode with her because there was no one else to call.
During her stay, I visited every day.
One afternoon, she patted the mattress beside her.
“Sit down, Daniel.”
I sat.
Her hand found mine.
It was thin, fragile, but still warm.
“I need to ask you something.”
“Anything.”
She looked directly into my eyes.
“I have one last wish.”
The room suddenly felt too quiet.
“I don’t think I have much time left,” she continued. “And I don’t want to leave this world knowing I never had someone I could call my husband.”
I thought I had misunderstood her.
Then she asked:
“Will you marry me?”