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“I think you’ve got the wrong person.”
“No. She asked for the young man who buys coffee for strangers every Thursday.”
My heart skipped.
For nearly a year, I’d quietly paid for Eleanor’s coffee every Thursday morning at the hospital café. We rarely spoke beyond a smile and a few minutes of conversation.
I had no idea she even knew my name.
An Impossible Request
She motioned for me to sit beside her bed.
I tried to reassure her, but she gently raised her hand.
I nodded.
“Will you marry me?”
I stared at her, convinced I had misunderstood.
She laughed softly at the look on my face.
Her Reason
Eleanor explained that she had no surviving children. Her husband had passed away years earlier, and most of her relatives had drifted away—except for a few who suddenly became interested after learning about her declining health.
“They’re waiting for what’s in my will.”
She explained that a legal marriage would ensure her final wishes couldn’t easily be challenged in court.
“But why me?” I asked.
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