Later in life, I agreed to marry a man with disability — there was no love between us

We returned to our routines—James repairing electronics, me running my small bakery—but time, as it always does, eventually caught up. His health declined once more. One morning, as I held his hand, I whispered, “Don’t go, James. I haven’t finished making today’s tea yet.”

He smiled, calm and serene. “I smell cinnamon… that’s enough, Sarah.”

And with that, James closed his eyes for the last time, leaving this world quietly, yet with a smile that carried a lifetime of love.