At 40, I agreed to marry a man with a disabled leg. There was no love between us…

He said, just hearing me make tea, he felt his heart was still alive.

Sometimes, someone asked me:

“Sarah, have you ever wished you had met James sooner?”

I shook my head and smiled:

“No. Because if I had met him sooner, I might not have been hurt enough to understand what true love is.”

That day, it was raining lightly.

I made two cups of tea, as usual.

Yet James was no longer sitting on the wooden chair on the porch.

He was lying in the bedroom, his breathing was getting weaker.

I held his hand, saying through my tears:

“Don’t go, James. I haven’t finished making today’s tea yet.”

He smiled, holding my hand tightly:

“I’ve made it. I smell cinnamon… That’s enough, Sarah.”

Then he gently closed his eyes, the smile still on his lips.

A year after James’s passing, I still lived in that old house.