I leaned forward.
“What is it?”
“I want to marry you.”
For several seconds, I thought I had misunderstood her.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Alicia, I’m your doctor.”
“I know who you are, Lucas.”
She used my first name so rarely that hearing it made the room feel unfamiliar.
I tried to understand what she was asking.
“Are you serious?”
“Completely.”
She smiled faintly.
“Come on. I don’t want to arrive in heaven as an unmarried woman.”
I should have recognized the warning in my own discomfort.
Instead, I tried to turn the conversation into a joke.
“You haven’t even asked me on a date.”
She laughed, then winced because laughing hurt.
“I’m dying, Doctor. I don’t have time to plan a proper courtship.”
The humor disappeared from my face.
“Please don’t talk about yourself that way.”
“Why? Everyone else is thinking it.”
I looked down at my hands.
She continued more quietly.
