I married my dy:ing high school sweetheart at 73 because it was his last wish — after his funeral, his lawyer knocked on my door and said, “YOU WALKED RIGHT INTO HIS TRAP.” – Page 4

My pension hadn’t stretched far enough, so I’d pinned my old nursing badge onto a

fresh uniform and gone right back to work at the local hospital. It was the same work I’d done before retiring.

Funny thing about coming home. Nothing looked the same, but everything felt the same.

I hadn’t married and never had children. There’d been dates over the years, a few kind men, but none of them ever became Thomas.

Thomas. I hadn’t said his name out loud in over 50 years.

He was my first love, back when we were both 17 and thought forever was a promise you could

just make. I chose a college in another city. He chose to stay and work in his father’s business.

“Please don’t go, Evelyn,” Thomas had begged me at the bus station.

“I have to, babe. I’ve worked too hard for this.”