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More in hope of just a reply than of anything actually happening. Just the hope that she would at least respond so he could say he had tried to talk to her.But she had replied. It was a short message but she didn't brush him off with a thanks but no thanks. He felt a glimmer of hope spark into life. Maybe she would like to keep chatting.The meetingThat had been just over a week previously and in the intervening time they had exchanged more messages than he ever thought they would and she actually liked him. They had talked about everything and anything and gradually the prospect of actually meeting had materialised and now it was time.He had arrived 10 minutes early and parked the car so he could be there when she arrived. He wanted to observe her and hope he didn't lose his nerve, she was still far too good for him as far as he was concerned but he had to see her face to face, maybe kiss her if she'd let him.He waited and watched.And there she was. His breath caught in his throat,. We followed them to the hospital. We waited forever before the doctor finally told us something. “I’m Doctor Householder,” he greeted, politely. “He’s stable, but he’s not out of the woods yet. One of the bullets just missed his heart. Um, who is Samantha?” “I am,” I spoke up. “He’s been asking for you ever since he arrived.” I almost cried when I saw him. There were tubes and wires going every which way. “Kenny?” I said. He opened his eyes and looked at me. “Samantha!” he cried and held out his arms. I went to him and tried to hug him without hurting him. “How are you?” I asked. “Much better, now that you’re here,” he replied. He was quiet for a moment. “The doctor says I might not make it.” “You will, Kenny,” I said. “You’ll get better and you’ll be fine.” He nodded, not convinced. The next day, I went to the hospital to see Kenny. A nurse stopped me. “I’m sorry, Samantha, but Kenny died early this morning.” “What?” “When we found him, there was this note. It’s for you.” I sat.
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