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But, he was shocked to hear that Harper and I had broken up over that stupid argument that ensued when she came over to my place. I took the blame for the whole thing, not that it helped the matter, but he still knew that I was hurting.
Bad.
Nick knew how much Harper meant to me, and he could see that I was slowly dying without having her in my life. But, there wasn’t anything he could do about that. Just like the rest of the shit show I was dealing with in life, I had to do it on my own.
I turned my attention to the envelope. It was addressed to me, but it was from Mrs. Elliot.
Confused, I opened the letter, finding that it had been written a week before – the morning of her death. She must have left it in her room at the home where she’d lived, and they’d found it when they were cleaning up her space. I was surprised they had taken the time to come all the way over to the hospital to drop it off for me. But then, with how much Mrs. Elliot liked me, there was a chance she would have talked about me to the people who cared for her in that home.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, so I simply started reading.
It struck me as odd that she had written a letter to me the morning she had passed, but it didn’t take me long to realize why she had done that, and I was grateful for her being in my life. I never wanted to lose any patient on the table, but if it was going to be someone, it happened to the right woman.
She had taken the time to pen me a letter to ensure I would be okay after the fact – something that only a woman as remarkable as Mrs. Elliot would think to do. She must have had an inkling in her head that she wasn’t going to make it through the surgery, and while I would never know for sure if that was true, I was glad that she had taken the precaution to write that letter to me so I would be able to hear what she’d have to say about things.
Dear Dr. Hall,
If you’re reading this, then I have finally gotten my wish and have gone on to heaven to be reunited with my Harold. I am sorry as I know you are likely very upset about the fact that I died. I know you didn’t want to ever lose someone in surgery, but trust me, you be a doctor long enough, and it’ll happen.
I don’t blame you for a thing. In fact, I think you are the best doctor I have ever had, and I am forever thankful to you for your kindness, compassion, and your conversations with a lonely old woman.
With that being said, I am concerned that you are going to make a mistake. You told me that you have feelings for this girl, but you have a job offer in Texas. I don’t know how you even say you still have that job offer when you say you have feelings for that girl. Let me tell you something. I might be a crazy old woman, but I know a thing or two about marriage, and if there is one person in your life who is going to be the most important in your life, it’s your spouse.
You’re not going to wake up one day and dance with your job after forty years, but you’ll do that at your wedding anniversary. You won’t hang onto your job’s hand and tell them that you were happy to have gone through the ups and downs of life with them. But you can do that with your spouse.
You are young, you are smart, and you have your entire life ahead of you. I would hate for you to go out there and live that life making the mistake of doing it alone. There is nothing so important in life than relationships, and I don’t want you to throw away yours because you think that money is somehow going to make you happier.
It won’t.
Alright, I’m sure you have heard enough of my ramblings already. You thought I talked a lot when I was alive, bet you had no idea what you’d be dealing with now that I’m gone. I’ll leave it to this letter, however, and spare you the whole book of things I could leave you with to help you out in life.
But then, who better to know a thing or two about life than those who have completed the entire thing?
Keep your head up, keep working hard with your career, and keep being the doctor you have been to me. You really are making a difference in lives – saving them, changing them, and making them better. Don’t let anything put that fire out, and don’t let anyone steal Harper away from you.
You don’t need Texas, you need Harper, and if I was there right now talking to you, I bet I would hear you saying that I was absolutely right. I know that, I’m always right.
With warmest thoughts, I wish you well, Dr. Hall.
Thank you for your everlasting kindness.
Mrs. Velma Elliot.
I closed my eyes, imagining Mrs. Elliot’s voice telling me everything she had written. And she was right. If she was sitting right here with me, I would have told her she was absolutely right about Harper and Texas. I didn’t know what I was doing thinking that was the way to go – even considering it without Harper by my side seemed ludicrous.
And if she didn’t want to leave, then there was no reason for me to leave, either. I could see the two of us growing old together, and I would way rather grow old with Harper than with a bank full of money. She’d made me happier in these past two months than I had been with my career in the past ten years.
And that meant something.
She was the one most important thing in my life. Not my career, not my fame. Not my apartment or any of the things I had done for myself up until this point. It was Harper.
Breaking up with her had been the single biggest mistake of my life, and it was eating me alive. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t go to her. If I didn’t talk to her and tell her how sorry I was – and tell her I wasn’t going to Texas – I wouldn’t ever be able to forgive myself.
I understood now Mrs. Elliot didn’t blame me for what happened, and she was clear in her letter to me that she wanted me to go after Harper. It would be wrong to deny the old woman of her last wish, so it’s exactly what I was going to do.
Harper would be working today, and I didn’t want to handle this through text message or even over the phone. I wanted to talk to her face to face. I wanted to hold her. I wanted her to know that she was the number one thing in my life and always would be.
Shit, I just wanted Harper.
