There was no argument.
Life simply carried us apart.
I eventually married a wonderful woman named Susan. We had 30 happy years together before she passed away six years earlier.
I later learned that Margaret had married Kade, a man she loved deeply. They raised their son, Wade, before Kade died four years earlier.
We both had good lives.
There was no argument.
Still, seeing Margaret again felt like discovering a missing chapter of my own story.
I began visiting her every day.
We talked for hours, remembering our school years, but even with IV lines in her arms, she never lost her humor.
Margaret had always smiled, even when everything around her was unbearable.
I began visiting her.
Once, she asked whether I still burned toast.
“I’ve improved,” I assured her.
“Tommy, the last time you cooked for me, the smoke alarm begged for mercy.”
***
Margaret’s son often joined us.
Wade was 42, worked as an accountant, and had inherited his mother’s mischievous smile.
“I’ve improved.”
***
One afternoon, I asked Margaret about her career.
“Oh, I kept myself busy,” she said.
Wade snorted.
She shot him a look. “Don’t start.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What’s funny?”
Wade snorted.
“Nothing,” Margaret said quickly. “Tommy, remember when you fell into the punch bowl at prom?”
“I didn’t fall into it!”
“You wore enough punch home to prove otherwise!”
Wade laughed.
I should’ve noticed how quickly she’d changed the subject.
“I didn’t fall into it!”
***
A few weeks later, Margaret told me the doctors believed she had only about a week left to live.
I sat beside her bed, unable to speak. I had a lump in my throat.
She squeezed my hand tightly. “Oh, don’t look so sad, Tommy!”
“Margaret…”
“Remember how you promised to marry me when we were 17?”
I had a lump in my throat.
I nodded, fighting tears.
“Well, you’re 45 years late, mister. How about we finally do it?”
I laughed through my tears. “Margaret, are you joking? You want us to get married?”
She smiled. “Yes. It would mean everything to me. Maybe it sounds strange, but Tommy, I would really love that. Would you do that for me?”
My heart ached.
“Are you joking?
I laughed through my tears. “Yes, Margaret! Absolutely!”
I agreed because I remembered those wonderful days when we were together. I remembered how happy I had been with her.
***
That evening, I went into the hospital chapel.
I knelt and prayed.
I laughed through my tears.
I didn’t demand a miracle. I asked God to give me the strength to cherish whatever time we had left.
But I was frightened of losing her so soon after finding her.
***
When I returned, Margaret studied my face. “You’ve been crying.”
“A little.”
“Good! I was worried I’d lost my charm!”
“You’ve been crying.”
***
Arranging a hospital wedding in three days took effort.
I contacted the county clerk, completed the marriage license paperwork, and worked with the hospital staff to organize a small ceremony.
My friend Pastor George agreed to officiate.
I wore my usual church suit because I didn’t own another decent one.
I contacted the county clerk.
