After lunch, Conor helped Lucy pack the few items of clothing he’d bought for her. The duck purse was cute. On-brand for sure. It was Saturday, and he had a standing appointment in London.
“What exactly is this appointment?” Lucy kissed him on the cheek as he swept up her bags in preparation to carry them out to the limo.
“Hospital,” he provided simply.
She turned abruptly at the door, her mouth falling open.
He rubbed his jaw in thought. Dare he invite her to witness such a personal part of his life?
“Conor? What’s wrong?” she muttered nervously. “Are you…?”
“Oh? No! Nothing like that. It’s something I do for my gran. Why don’t you come along with me? See what makes me really happy.”
***
It warmed Conor’s heart to see Lucy chatting with the patients in the elder-care ward. He’d been doing this every Saturday he was in London since his gran had passed.
“You’ve made these visits since her death?” Lucy asked as they strolled the hallway, which smelled of antiseptic and was illuminated by bright fluorescent lights. Holding her hand lessened his anxiety over the cold, clinical atmosphere.
“Yes, she died when I was nineteen. I’d never stop. Gran had memory loss at the end. But”—he tapped the tattoo on his forearm—“she’d see this and say, ‘Oh, there’s the boy who loves Audrey Hepburn.’ And I’d say, ‘That I do.’ But in my head, it was really her I loved. Gran could still recall scenes from Hepburn’s movies. I watched all her movies so I could hold a conversation with her.”
“Conor, that’s so kind. You really loved her.”
“I did. When she had her lucid moments, she’d tell me about the loneliness. Even though we had her at home and the best medical teams on call for twenty-four-hour care, she wasn’t able to go out by herself, and so she’d pine for time spent with good company. She made me promise to visit people in the hospital, as she had done when she was able, to help them feel less alone. So I’ve been doing it ever since.”
“The patients really brighten when you walk in with flowers. It’s such a good thing. You are an amazing man.”
“I’m not doing it for accolades, Lucy.”
“I know that. You give them your attention. And that means the world.”
It meant a lot, but not the world, to Conor. Lucy had become his world. His breath, his very heartbeat. She felt so necessary now. Like life without her might never be as joyous as it was when in her company.
“I’m glad I got to see this side of you,” she said. “You’re just like everyone else.”
“Never thought I was different.” But, sure, he knew that others viewed him as something untouchable, a man with so much money that he could never relate to their troubles. None of it true.
And Lucy had seen that.
The sky had darkened by the time they stepped onto the pavement outside. Neon lights glowed and cars shot by. Standing at the curb, with traffic zooming behind them, he felt they were the only two people in the world. And when she asked if she could take a selfie, just for them, this time he agreed because he wanted a photo of the two of them. Turning to stand beside her, they smiled for the shot.
Enthusiasm making her bounce, Lucy pointed to the sky and shouted, “Look at that gorgeous full moon over Big Ben!” She aimed her phone to snap a pic. A step backward made her wobble.
Conor saw the oncoming car. “Lucy!”
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