“I don’t even know what I want anymore. But I know I’m not ready to leave.”

I returned two days later.

Then I came back twice more the following week.

Eventually, I stopped bringing out the ring or asking him whether he remembered.

Some visits he listened.

Others he slept through.

One afternoon, he called me by his late wife’s name.

The mistake stung, but I let it pass.

He looked embarrassed.

“I keep losing people,” he said. “In my mind and for real.”

On another visit, I was reading aloud when he interrupted.

“That fellow talks too much.”

I smiled and closed the book.

“You talked all night once.”

“Did I?”

“Under a willow tree, Benjamin.”

“You were.”

“Did it work?”

“For over 60 years.”

He smiled.

Later, Edward caught up with me in the hallway.

“This is hurting you, Isobel. I can see it.”

“Maybe you should come less often.”

I turned to face him.

“You brought me here. Now you want me to disappear?”

“I don’t want to watch you break every time he forgets.”

His voice tightened.

“My mother is gone. My father is dying. I can’t carry your grief too.”

His expression filled with guilt, and suddenly I understood.

He wasn’t pushing me away.

He was frightened of losing another person he cared about.

“I’m not asking you to carry me,” I said gently. “I’ve carried myself for 80 years.”

“I only want to protect him.”

I placed my hand over his.

“I won’t force his memories. I won’t ask him to choose between your mother and me. I only want to sit beside him while I still can.”

Edward slowly nodded.

“All right.”

“But you don’t have to carry everything alone either.”

A few weeks later, Edward arranged a short trip outside the care home.

He brought Benjamin back to the willow tree.

Wren stayed several steps away while Edward pushed the wheelchair beneath the familiar branches before quietly giving us privacy.

I knelt in the grass and placed a red carnation into Benjamin’s hand.

He gently rubbed one of the petals between his fingers.

“We sat here until sunrise once,” I said softly.

He stared at the flower for a long moment.

Then his eyes lifted toward mine.

“You promised you’d come home.”

His breathing suddenly changed.

He reached up and touched the dimple in his chin before looking directly into my eyes.

“Belle?”

My hand flew to my mouth.

For one impossible moment, the fog disappeared.

“You wore yellow.”

A laugh escaped through my tears.

“It was the ugliest dress I owned.”

“You were beautiful.”

Behind us, Edward quietly turned away while Wren covered her mouth with both hands.

I slipped my hand beneath Benjamin’s.

He studied my face carefully.

“No,” he whispered. “I think you came and found me.”

Only minutes later, the clarity vanished.