Chen was in her recliner wrapped in blankets that seemed too big for her shrinking frame. Her face had that gray palar I’d seen before on my grandmother right before the end, and my stomach dropped. But when she saw me, her eyes lit up like Christmas morning. “Zane,” she said, her voice weak, but sharp. “You came and you brought my nurse with you like I planned.” Elise stood beside me, her hand finding mine automatically now, and I felt her fingers squeezed tight.
“Mrs. Chen,” I started, but she waved me off. “No crying yet, boy. I don’t have time for sentiment. Sit.” We sat on the couch across from her and Mrs. Chen studied us with those knowing eyes that had seen through my walls from the very beginning. You’re holding hands, she observed, a smile tugging at her lips. Good. That’s very good. You tricked us, I said, trying to sound angry but failing. You lied to both of us. I did, Mrs.
Chen agreed without shame. And I’d do it again. You were both dying in different ways, and I couldn’t leave this world knowing I didn’t try to save you. Elise wiped at her eyes with her free hand. You should have told us. If id told you, you’d have said no, Mrs. Chen replied simply. Love doesn’t wait for permission. And neither do I. She leaned forward slightly, wincing with pain, but determined. Zayn, when my husband died, I wanted to die, too.
I stopped eating, stopped caring, stopped living. But then I moved here and I met you. And watching you do the same thing, watching you waste your beautiful life in that cabin with only a dog for company, it broke my heart. So, I made a choice. I decided my last act in this world would be to give you a reason to live again. My throat closed completely. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. “And Elise,” Mrs. Chen continued, turning to her nurse.
“You’ve been taking care of dying people so long, you forgot you’re allowed to live, too. You’re allowed to be loved. You’re allowed to want something for yourself.” Elise was crying openly now, and so was I. Tears running down my face without permission. Mrs. Chen reached into the pocket of her robe and pulled out two envelopes, her hands shaking. These are for you, letters. Don’t open them until after I’m gone. But promise me something. Anything? I choked out.
Promise me you’ll take care of each other. Promise me this wasn’t for nothing. Elise and I looked at each other, and in her tear streaked face, I saw my future. Scary and uncertain and beautiful. We promise, Elise whispered. Mrs. Chen died 3 weeks later with Elise holding one hand and me holding the other. And at her funeral, when Ely and I finally opened those letters, we found the same message written in shaky handwriting. Love is worth the risk.
Always, even when it scares you, especially then. That was 2 years ago. Elise moved into my cabin 6 months after Mrs. Chen passed. Harley adores her. We got married last spring under the pine trees with cherry blossoms in her hair. And sometimes when I wake up next to her, I still can’t believe a joke date set up by a dying neighbor gave me my whole life back. Mrs. Chen was right. Love doesn’t wait for permission. And I’m so grateful she didn’t either.
