The Iris

“What’s wrong? You’re not worried I won’t make it, are you?” He laughed. “Don’t worry. I updated my will. You’re in it.”

“Don’t jest.”

“You didn’t just say that.” He chuckled. “Might as well tell me not to be me.”

A memory flashed through his mind. Of the time he told her why he was called “Jesse.” They were playing “truth or dare” during a date. And it was his turn to tell a truth about himself.

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