Chapter 120: First Love

Andrei arrived at the hospital with his children.

That alone would’ve surprised Conrad.

The woman walking behind them surprised him considerably more.

Helena Laurent.

For several seconds, Conrad simply stared.

Helena looked older, naturally. So did he, although considering he was currently lying in a hospital bed with failing kidneys, Conrad suspected she’d won that particular contest.

Still, he recognized her immediately.

His first love.

The woman he’d left without knowing she was pregnant.

And the mother who had raised their son alone.

"You brought soup," Conrad eventually said.

Helena looked down at the container in her hands.

"You’re hospitalized, and that’s what you noticed?"

"I’ve been eating hospital food."

"Then you have my sympathy."

Andrei glanced between them.

Apparently satisfied that neither intended to throw anything at the other, he gathered his children.

"We’ll wait outside."

Conrad looked toward them.

"Those are your children?"

Andrei paused.

"Yes."

Both children stared curiously at the grandfather they’d barely known existed.

Conrad seemed momentarily lost for words.

Andrei spared him.

"You can meet them properly later."

Then he led them into the corridor, leaving his parents alone.

Helena pulled a chair closer to the bed.

The soup had been cleared before she brought it in, and Conrad managed several careful spoonfuls before deciding he’d had enough. Helena broke off a small piece of bread for him anyway.

Conrad accepted it.

Something about being cared for by her felt painfully familiar.

"You never told me," he said eventually.

"About Andrei?"

"You were pregnant when I left."

"I didn’t know yet."

"You could’ve found me afterward."

"I could have."

"Why didn’t you?"

Helena was quiet for a moment.

"You’d already made your choice."

Conrad looked down at the bread between his fingers.

By the time Helena learned she was pregnant, their relationship had already ended. By the time Conrad understood what he’d walked away from, pride, distance, and eventually another life had grown between them.

Then came Victoria.

Marriage.

Dominic.

Years that somehow became decades.

"I should’ve come back."

"Yes."

Conrad looked at her.

Helena shrugged.

"You’re sick, Conrad. I’m not going to start lying to you now."

A tired laugh escaped him.

That, at least, hadn’t changed.

Helena watched him for a moment.

"Is that why you finally divorced Victoria?"

"No."

"You knew you were sick."

"Yes."

"And?"

"I’d already decided the marriage should’ve ended properly years ago. Being sick only made it harder to keep pretending there would always be more time."

Helena nodded.

Then Conrad said quietly, "I was going to find you."

She looked up.

"Why?"

"I wanted to ask whether there was anything left."

Helena didn’t answer.

"I wanted to come back properly this time. If you’d still have me."

Her eyes moved toward the hospital bed.

"And then?"

"Then I found out I was sick."

"So you changed your mind."

"What was I supposed to offer you, Helena?"

"Yourself."

"Look at me."

"I am."

Conrad fell silent.

Helena leaned closer.

"You always did have an irritating habit of deciding things for other people."

"I thought you’d forgotten that."

"I had decades to remember."

That made him smile.

Then Helena kissed him.

It wasn’t the kind of kiss they’d shared when they were young. Neither of them felt any urgency.

It was quieter.

Older.

And somehow that made it hurt more.

When she pulled back, Conrad was still staring at her.

"Sick or not, I would’ve listened if you’d asked."

His throat tightened.

"Would you have said yes?"

Helena smiled.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Whether you’re asking me now."

Conrad stared at her.

Then, despite everything attached to him and every sensible reason to wait, he laughed.

"Yes."

Helena’s smile disappeared.

"Yes, what?"

"I’m asking."

"Conrad."

"Marry me."

She looked at him for a long moment.

"You’re in a hospital bed."

"I noticed."

"You’re on dialysis."

"Also noticed."

"You don’t even have a ring."

"I’ve been poorly prepared."

Helena laughed despite herself.

Then she took his hand.

"Yes."

Andrei returned several minutes later and immediately knew something had happened.

His mother was crying.

His father looked suspiciously pleased with himself.

Andrei stopped beside the bed.

"What did you do?"

Conrad beckoned him closer.

"I need a favor."

"That sentence has become increasingly dangerous lately."

"I want to marry your mother."

Andrei looked at Helena.

She nodded.

He looked back at Conrad.

"Today?"

"If possible."

Andrei stared at him.

Then at his mother.

Then back at his father.

"You couldn’t have reached this conclusion before being admitted to a hospital?"

"Apparently not."

Helena wiped beneath one eye.

"He’s always had terrible timing."

Andrei couldn’t dispute that.

What followed was considerably less romantic.

There were phone calls.

The hospital’s patient-services staff helped them determine what they could legally arrange, while Andrei contacted the appropriate local office about the marriage license.

Fortunately, their jurisdiction let them expedite the process under the circumstances. Conrad was alert, competent, and perfectly capable of confirming that he understood exactly what he was doing.

As it happened, Helena had enough valid identification tucked inside her bag to satisfy the immediate requirements. Apparently, she’d come to the hospital prepared to visit a sick man, not marry one, but her handbag had been better prepared for the occasion than she was.

Conrad’s recent divorce was verified.

The hospital chaplain was legally authorized to solemnize marriages in the state and agreed to perform the ceremony once the paperwork was in order.

By late afternoon, somehow, it was.

No flowers had been ordered.

Nobody had formal clothes.

No one had rehearsed, had a reception, or spent months planning.

But there was a valid marriage license.

There was an officiant.

And there were witnesses.

The attending physician arrived for rounds shortly before the ceremony and, after confirming that Conrad was still medically stable enough for the excitement, found himself recruited as the second witness.

"I came here to check your blood pressure."

Conrad smiled faintly.

"You can do that afterward."

The doctor looked toward Andrei.

"Does he always do this?"

"I’ve only recently gotten to know him. Unfortunately, evidence suggests yes."

The children giggled.

Helena stood beside Conrad’s bed while the chaplain began.

The ceremony was nothing elaborate.

The chaplain spoke briefly about the commitment they were making and, perhaps more importantly given the circumstances, confirmed directly that both Conrad and Helena were entering the marriage willingly.

Then came the vows.

Conrad looked at the woman he’d loved when they were young, lost for most of his adult life, and somehow found again when he had considerably less certainty about how much life remained.

"I should’ve come back sooner."

Helena’s eyes filled.

"That isn’t a vow."

"I know."

"Try again."

Even the chaplain smiled.

Conrad tightened his fingers around hers.

"I can’t give you back the years we lost. But whatever time I have, if you’ll still take it, I want it to be with you."

Helena bent and kissed his hand.

"I already said yes."

They exchanged simple vows after that.

No promises about forever.

At their age, and in a hospital room, neither needed the illusion that time could be guaranteed.

They promised what they actually had.

Whatever came next.

The chaplain pronounced them married.

Andrei signed as one witness.

The doctor signed as the other, then immediately reclaimed his medical authority and told Conrad he’d had enough excitement for one afternoon.

Helena signed beside her new husband’s name.

Andrei studied the completed document.

"Is this actually legal?"

The chaplain looked at him.

"Yes."

"Even like this?"

"Marriage doesn’t require a ballroom."

Andrei glanced around the hospital room.

Apparently not.

The chaplain would return the completed paperwork for official recording, after which the couple could obtain their certified marriage certificate.

The ceremony itself was over.

That afternoon, Helena Laurent became Helena Sebastian.

Conrad had now married two women who would continue carrying the same surname.

Victoria Sebastian, his former wife.

And Helena Sebastian, his first love and current wife.

Under virtually any other circumstances, Conrad suspected that arrangement would’ve produced considerable gossip.

Right now, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

His grandchildren were arguing quietly over who got to stand closest to the bed.

Andrei still stared at the paperwork, as though expecting someone to announce they’d missed a page.

Helena sat beside Conrad again, her hand wrapped around his.

After everything that had gone wrong between them, they’d had their wedding in a hospital room with borrowed pens, two witnesses, and soup still sitting on the bedside table.

It wasn’t exactly how Conrad would’ve planned it.

Then again, planning his life properly had never been his strongest skill.

Perhaps it was fitting that he finally got one thing right with almost no preparation.