I brought dinner to Martin and Elouise as they sat in their usual spot in front of the window of the nursing home. It overlooked the snow-covered courtyard and although it wasn’t much it was definitely the best seat in the house. They were silent but offered me the same smile of gratitude that had become a part of our nightly routine. Their liver-spotted hands shook as they picked up their silverware, feebly cutting at the chicken pot pie, and spooning tepid bites into their dentured mouths.

I returned to the kitchen thinking of their love, a sixty-year marriage filled with children, a home, good jobs; the adjective of their life would be stability and I didn’t know if this was something to envy or to pity.

When was the last time they held hands and did they stop as a matter of practicality or had they simply forgotten that this easy piece of intimacy existed?

When did their last passionate kiss occur? Had Martin–prior to the shakes and the liver spots–ever stopped Elouise in the middle of an action by placing the first knuckle of his curled index finger under her delicate chin, guided her face up to meet his gaze and after a feverish moment of eye contact, pressed his lips to hers in a way that she thought of not only as he walked out the front door, but for the entire day, fantasizing about the moment that he would walk back through, briefcase in hand and a cheeky smile on his face that indicated to her he hadn’t been able to get any work done today for his mind was preoccupied with desire, not just for anyone but for her, for Elouise?

At what age did this no longer become possible and, if in fact she had never been kissed in this way, did Elouise ever wonder what it would have been like? Did she know it was possible? Did she care?

My heart was racing. I took out my phone and sent a text to my wife, “I love you more and more every day.” Then I placed it back in my pocket and wiped the small bead of sweat off my forehead; will I be able to recognize when this time is the last time?

– Jordan Cagle

Author’s Note: This story is about love and the feeling of missed opportunities compounded by the proximity of death.