The Second Coffee

I found it between a phone bill and a grocery flyer, inside a thick white envelope with my name written in his familiar handwriting. I thought it would be a simple goodbye. Instead, the first line said, “Sarah, I need to apologize before I thank you.” Larry had been the homeless man outside my subway station for two years. Every morning, I brought him a black coffee while mine had cream. We talked for five minutes, and I convinced myself those little acts made me a good person. Then, one freezing morning, Larry told me he had only a month left to live. He asked me to marry him because he didn’t want to die without someone to claim him. I said yes. …CONTINUE READING

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