The final confession is translated by Zhang Bao on October 2, 2018

People want to hear the words "I love you". This is the most direct, concise, and beautiful way to express love for each other. But for some people, it is not easy to hear this simple and beautiful sentence.

I met Connie the day she entered the shelter ward, where I volunteered. When she was lifted from the gurney to the hospital bed, her husband, Bill, was standing anxiously next to her. Although Connie is terminally ill of cancer, she remains alert and happy. Once we settled her in, I put her name on all the medical supplies she was going to use and asked her what else she needed.

And she said, "Oh yes, can you please teach me how to use the TV? I love soap operas so much that I don't want to make a mess of it." "Connie is a romantic. She loves soap operas, love, and love story films. When we got acquainted, she confided in me how frustrating it must have been when she was 32 years old to marry a man who often called her a "silly woman."

"Oh, I know Bill loves me," she said, "but he never confessed to me or sent me a greeting card." She sighed and looked out the window at the trees in the yard. "If he could say 'I love you' to me, I'd pay for him at any cost, but that's not his personality. ”

Bill came to visit Connie every day. In the beginning, when Connie was watching a soap opera, he sat on the edge of the bed with her. Later, when she slept more, he walked back and forth in the hallway outside the room. Soon, she stopped watching TV, often fell asleep, and woke up much less. At this point, I have more time to spend with Bill.

He said he was a carpenter and loved fishing. He and Connie have been married for many years, but they have never had children. But they continued to travel and enjoy their retirement until she fell ill. Bill said he couldn't express his feelings about the fact that his wife was about to die.

One day, we had coffee together in the cafeteria, and we talked about the topic of women, how much we need romance in our lives, and how much we want to receive cards and love letters full of tenderness and sweetness.

I knowingly asked him, "Did you tell Connie you loved her?"

He looked at me as if I was nervous, and then he said to me, "I don't need to do this because she knows I love her!"

I said with great certainty, "Of course she does." I said as I stroked his rough hands vigorously. The carpenter's hand gripped the cup tightly as if it were the only thing he had to grasp. I said to him solemnly, "But she needs to hear, Bill." She needs to hear what she really means to you all these years. Think about it. ”

We walked back to Connie's room, and after that, Bill was gone. I left Connie's room to visit the other patients. Later, I saw Bill sitting on the edge of the bed, holding Connie's hand while she was asleep. The date is February 12.

Two days later, at noon, I arrived at the shelter ward. Bill stood there, leaning against the wall in the hallway, staring at the floor. By this time, I had learned from the head nurse that Connie had passed away at 11 a.m.

When Bill saw me, he let me hug me for a long time. He burst into tears and shivered, and finally, he leaned against the wall and took a deep breath.

"I have to say something," he said. "I have to say how nice it feels to be able to confess to her. He stopped and blew his nose. Then he said, "I have thought for a long time what you have said to me, and this morning I told her how much I love her, and that it is my desire to marry her. You should be able to see her smile!"

I went into my room and said goodbye to Connie. On the bedside table was a large Valentine's Day card from Bill and, of course, that tender and sweet word: "To my beloved wife...... I love you. ”