I married a stranger from a hospital waiting room so he wouldn’t die alone — after our one-week marriage, his lawyer handed me his backpack, saying, “He wanted you to know the truth.”
I was twenty-nine and still trying to find my way through the grief of losing my mother.
Volunteering at a hospital became the only thing that made that pain feel like it had some purpose.
For almost a year, I spent time with patients who had no family beside them during their final days.
That’s how Thomas came into my life.
He was seventy-two, frail, and dying from heart failure.
He always looked worn out, but somehow he still smiled gently whenever I came to see him.
We began talking.
And within just a few days, our conversations became something both of us looked forward to.
Then one afternoon, Thomas reached for my hand.
“Marry me, Sarah,” he
