I married a stranger I met in a hospital waiting room so he wouldn’t die alone—after just one week of marriage, his lawyer handed me his backpack.

“That song again?”

She laughed.

“My mama loved it, Tom.”

“I know.”

She paused. “You remembered?”

He only smiled.

“My mama loved it, Tom.”

That was Thomas.

At least, that was who I thought he was.

A kind dying man.

A lonely one.

On the fourth day, he asked me to marry him.

“Marry me, Sarah,” he whispered.

I froze beside his bed with a cup of ice chips in my hand.continue reading …