I’m 22 and I fell in love with my own patient. I didn’t even have the money for a proper ring, so I proposed with a gummy one. After she died, her lawyer called: she hadn’t left me a cent — but there was something else, and he said I’d have to collect it immediately.
Her children are telling this whole town that I married their mother for her money.
I am twenty-two. She was sixty-nine. I was the care assistant on her floor.
So I know exactly how that sounds. I would think the same thing.
Here is what actually happened.
Ida was put into Marlcote by her own two. They came twice in fourteen months and both times they came with paperwork.
And I started reading to her because nobody else did.
And then I kept doing it, because she was the first person in my life who talked to me as though I were a whole person.
