Page 95 of Last Wish Wedding

Before she could respond, Truman stirred slightly, drawing their attention back to him. His breathing had become more labored, and each inhale was a visible effort.

Kelsey checked his pulse automatically. She found it thready and irregular beneath her fingertips. They both fell silent, the moment suspended as they waited, watched, and held space for the inevitable transition.

Outside, the tide was turning, waves retreating from the shore in their ancient rhythm of departure and return. Inside, they sat vigil, hands joined across Truman’s bed. They bore witness to life’s most profound journey—one that, despite all Kelsey’s medical training, remained the greatest mystery of all.

The crunch of tires on gravel cut through the room’s stillness, pulling Kelsey from her vigilant observation of Truman’s breathing. She touched Mac’s shoulder lightly, reluctant to disturb the fragile peace that had settled over them.

“That’ll be Amy and Noah,” she said softly as she moved to meet them at the door.

Mac nodded without taking his eyes from his grandfather’s face. The past hour had brought only subtle change. Truman’s labored breathing had evened somewhat, settling into a deeper, more peaceful rhythm. It was the deceptive calm that sometimes came near the end, Kelsey knew.

Outside, the late afternoon sun warmed the porch as Kelsey stepped out to meet Amy’s car. Noah was the first to emerge, his face solemn but composed. Amy had clearly prepared him, explained things in terms he could understand without frightening him.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Kelsey said, kneeling to his level and pulling him into a hug. His small body felt solid and warm against hers, a vital counterweight to the atmosphere of quiet fading inside the cottage.

“Amy says Truman is going to heaven,” Noah said when she released him.

“That’s right,” Kelsey confirmed, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “His body is very tired, and it’s almost time for him to go.”

“Is he scared?”

The simple question caught at Kelsey’s heart. “No, honey. He’s not scared. He’s ready to see his wife again, Mac’s grandmother, who died a long time ago. And his daughter, Mac’s mother.”

Noah considered this. His face was serious beyond his years. “Can I say goodbye to him?”

“Of course. Would you like to see him now? He’s sleeping, but he might wake up for a little while.”

Noah nodded and slipped his hand into hers with complete trust. Amy stepped forward, offering Kelsey a quick, fierce hug.

“How are you holding up?” she asked quietly.

“Managing.” The single word encompassed all the complex emotions beneath her outward composure. “Thank you for bringing him.”

“What are sisters for?” Amy squeezed her hand. “Is Mac okay?”

Kelsey glanced toward the house. “As well as can be expected.”

Together, they entered the cottage. The transition from bright sunlight to the dimmed interior created a momentary disorientation, as if they’d stepped into another world entirely. Kelsey guided Noah toward the bed, keeping her hand steady on his small shoulder.

“Remember,” she murmured, “he looks different than the last time you saw him. He’s very weak now.”

Noah nodded solemnly. They paused to allow him to take in the scene of Truman lying still beneath the blankets. Mac sat vigil beside him, the quiet hiss of the oxygen the only sound breaking the silence.

Mac looked up at their entrance, and his face softened as he spotted Noah. He motioned them in with a gentle wave.

“Come in to see Grandad,” he said. His voice was rough from emotion and exhaustion.

Noah approached the bed cautiously and studied Truman’s sleeping face. Kelsey remained close behind him, ready to intervene if the scene became too overwhelming, but Noah showed no signs of fear, only a solemn attention that seemed to draw from some deep well of intuitive understanding.

As if sensing their presence, Truman’s eyelids fluttered open. For a moment, his gaze seemed unfocused, drifting around the room before settling on the small group gathered at his bedside. Recognition dawned slowly, and with it, a smile that transformed his drawn features.

“There’s my family,” he whispered. The words were slightly slurred but unmistakable.

Mac’s hand tightened on his grandfather’s, his throat working visibly.

“Noah’s come to see you,” Kelsey said, and gently encouraged Noah forward. “And Amy too.”

Truman’s eyes found Noah, and his smile deepened. “Come here, young man,” he said, lifting one trembling hand in invitation. “Let me look at you.”