I brought books from the library, shared stories, and kept him company.
One morning, I arrived to find him looking troubled.
“My son came yesterday,” he said.
“Is everything okay?”
Arthur sighed.
“He thinks I should move somewhere else. Somewhere cheaper.”
I immediately understood what he meant.
The nursing home was expensive, and some family members saw only numbers instead of people.
A few days later, Gregory arrived with several professionals carrying folders.
His expensive suit and confident attitude made the small room feel uncomfortable.
“Father, we need to discuss your future,” Gregory said.
Arthur looked at him calmly.
“My future is still mine to decide.”
Gregory forced a smile.
“We are only trying to help.”
A woman accompanying him opened a folder.
“There are concerns about whether Mr. Arthur is able to manage his own decisions. We believe it would be appropriate to review his legal arrangements.”
I immediately knew what was happening.
They wanted control.
Arthur looked tired, but his voice remained firm.
“I have made my decisions clearly.”
Gregory noticed me standing nearby.
“And who is she?”
I answered politely.
“My name is Clara.”
He looked at my simple clothes and then back at his father.
“I see.”
The way he said it made the meaning clear.
Arthur noticed too.
“She is my friend,” he said firmly. “And she is one of the few people who visits me because she cares.”
After they left, Arthur sat silently for a long time.
“I spent my whole life building things,” he finally said. “But the hardest thing to find was someone genuine.”
I reached across the table and held his hand.
“You already found that.”
A few weeks later, Arthur made a decision that surprised everyone.
He asked me to marry him.
At first, I thought he was joking.
“Arthur, people will misunderstand,” I said.
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