I married my high school sweetheart at 70 — two weeks after his children threw me out with only the dress I was wearing, his lawyer arrived at my trailer and said, “Your husband made sure you got EXACTLY what you deserved.”

I married my high school sweetheart at 70 — two weeks after his children threw me out with only the dress I was wearing, his lawyer arrived at my trailer and said, “Your husband made sure you got EXACTLY what you deserved.”

Thomas had kissed me behind the bleachers in 1973 and promised,

“Margaret, someday I’ll buy you a diamond ring.”

Then life pulled us apart.

I married a good man. Thomas married a good woman. We buried them both, raised our families, and somehow got old without ever crossing paths again.

More than fifty years passed.

Then he found me at a church bake sale.

“You still wear your hair the same,” he whispered.

“And you still talk too smoothly,” I told him.

When Thomas asked me to marry him, I said yes.