As the golden years of her life unfolded, Emily chose to wed a solitary retiree. Half an hour before the vows, a chime echoed through her home. She swung the door open, struck silent by what she saw…

“I’ve never given you a proper gift in all these years. Happy birthday, my love!” The ring was engraved, “I’ll Always Be With You.” He kissed her and slid it on her finger. “Thank you, Jimmy! But why does it need to remind me of you? You’re always here!” “Just in case,” he said. The fireplace logs crackled as Emily reminisced.

She thought of their first grandson’s birth, Sarah’s visits, and how James doted on the boy. Sarah would tease, “Dad, let him walk!” But little Tommy loved riding on Grandpa’s shoulders, wailing if set down. So they roamed together, grandpa and grandson. Then tragedy struck. That evening, James came home clutching his chest.

His shirt sleeve was torn, a scrape on his cheek. Emily panicked. “Jimmy, what’s wrong? Call 911?” Paramedics rushed him to cardiology. He never came back.

Later, Emily learned what happened. James was returning from a late shift, his car in the shop, so he took the bus. His route passed a wooded path. He heard a muffled cry for help and ran toward it. Two guys were dragging a girl into the bushes. James intervened, but they were young and strong. They let the girl go but turned on him, beating him badly. After they fled, James felt sharp chest pain—his first ever. He barely made it home.

Emily knew the rest. “I wanna go first,” he’d said. For ten years, she’d lived without him.

How did she cope? At first, grief consumed her. Over time, the pain dulled. She talked to him like he was still there, seeking his advice. Her heart started acting up recently. After a hospital stay, her doctor urged daily walks, ideally twice. Emily followed the advice, strolling the neighborhood path each morning. She skipped today but planned to go tomorrow. The morning was warm and sunny.

The path was quiet, a typical weekday. People rushed to work. A few young moms pushed strollers, and a woman walked a tiny dog on a leash. The dog yapped, sniffing trash cans, while the woman tugged it back. “No, Muffin, stop!” Emily smiled, passing by, then noticed a man on a bench, slouched unnaturally, clutching his chest.

“You okay?” she asked. “Heart’s acting up. Forgot my pills,” he gasped. Emily dug in her purse and handed him a nitroglycerin tablet. “Put this under your tongue.” She sat beside him. Minutes later, he breathed easier.

“Thanks,” he said. “You saved me.” “Don’t leave home without your meds,” she scolded gently. “I always do, but grabbed the wrong jacket today. Lucky you were here. You come here often?” “Every day, doctor’s orders. I live nearby. You?” “Just moved to the area. Swapped houses with my son. I’ve got a one-bedroom now, used to have a big three-bedroom. Sold it, bought this. Mine’s small, 180 square feet, but my son got a bigger one, 250 square feet. He’s got a wife, maybe kids soon. Well, he’s already got two kids, one from each ex-wife. He’s a mess. No steady job, no care for family.”..