Not because of the job.
Not because I had helped her.
Emily looked at me for a long moment.
Then she said the words that finally broke down every wall I had left.
“If you lost every dollar you had tomorrow, I would still come here the next day.”
I could not say anything.
For nearly a year, we simply dated.
We did ordinary things.
We went to small restaurants.
We bought groceries at the market.
I taught her to play chess, and she taught me how to send videos on my phone without accidentally calling the entire family every time.
Especially Sarah.
But then one day, she pulled me aside.
“Dad, I never saw you like this with Lauren.”
“Like what?”
“Peaceful.”
She was right.
With Lauren, I had always tried to look younger.
With Emily, I was simply George.
On my seventy-fifth birthday, we had a small family dinner.
After everyone left, Emily stayed behind.
I took her outside to the patio.
There was a small ring in my pocket.
I did not even get down on one knee. My knees had retired from that kind of heroism years ago.
I simply took her hand.
“Emily, I can’t promise you fifty years.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I know.”
“I can’t even promise twenty.”
She squeezed my hand.
“George, nobody can promise anyone tomorrow.”
I looked at her.
“Then whatever time we do have… will you spend it with me?”
She smiled through her tears.
“Yes.”
Not in a huge hotel.
Not in front of hundreds of guests.
In the backyard of my home.
Sarah stood beside Emily.
Mike helped me tie my necktie.
Emily’s mother sat in the front row, healthy again.
When Emily walked toward me, she was not wearing some glamorous designer gown or trying to make everyone in the room look at her.
She wore a simple white dress.
And to me, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
This time, I did not marry because I was afraid of being alone.
