As soon as she entered the room, Perry's ocean-blue eyes arrested hers. Holding the gaze, she walked up to the bed, lifted the plastic flap and slipped underneath the oxygen tent. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, she rearranged the plastic around them both, trying to minimize leaks.

"Della," Perry murmured, reaching for her hand. When his hot one possessed hers, he surprised her by feebly tugging it up to his lips and pressing a feverish kiss upon it.

Not knowing how to respond to this gesture, she only said,

"You wished to see me, counselor?" trying to keep her tone lighthearted and the tears out of her eyes.

He nodded, and proceeded to whisper,

"You will find a copy of my will in the bottom drawer of my desk in the office. When I am gone, enter it into probate. Refer all my clients to Johnathan Crawford. He's a young, good defense lawyer and could use the business as much as they could use his help." It was clear that every word he spoke cost him dearly.

Della felt the last bit of her composure slipping away. This amazing man was lying on death's doorstep, and he was still thinking of his clients and his colleagues. Wildly, she realized that she could not let him go. Instead of acceding to his request, therefore, she shook her head forcefully and insistently said,

"No, Perry! You will be well soon, and will help your clients yourself."

The lawyer shook his head at her words, and continued,

"I did not see Paul here this evening - thank him and say goodbye to him for me, and tell him to enjoy my Cadillac convertibles. I willed them to him since he always admired them." He coughed, and took several painful breaths before continuing. "As for you, Della, I own the apartment building we are in, and it will be yours. Frank Winston is a very reliable manager, and will tell you everything you need to know. The net profit from it is five thousand a month. You will never want for any material thing again."

Ms. Street could not bear to hear him speak so. The tears which she had been valiantly repressing began to spill out over her cheeks. Her voice breaking, she cried out,

"Perry, I don't want your apartment building, or five thousand dollars a month. I just want you to be alright. Please, please try. Everyone always said that Perry Mason was the sort of man who would never give up, no matter what the circumstances. Don't you give up now!"

"I am trying," he murmured, giving her hand a very weak, comforting squeeze. "But there comes a time when every lawyer is defeated, every man must die." She began to protest again, but he stopped her by whispering, "There is one more thing."

She could see that he was getting more exhausted by the second, and that he desperately wished to say something before he was completely powerless. She swallowed her sobs as best she could, and he proceeded to murmur in the softest tone she had ever heard him use,

"Della, for a million reasons – all of which seem very foolish now – I kept promising myself each day that I would tell you this on the morrow, when a better opportunity than the present arose. Well, it seems as if there are no more tomorrows for me, so I must say it now." He brought her hand to his lips again and bestowed another kiss on it. "My dear girl, thank you for all the help and happiness you have given me these last four years." He gave a feeble cough. "Thank you for every worry you shared, for every encouraging word. You have no idea what they meant to me - what you mean to me. You are a wonderful, brilliant, beautiful lady – the girl of my dreams. I love you as deeply and tenderly as man ever loved woman. Don't ever change, Della."

"Oh Perry," Della gasped, her heart somehow dancing and breaking at the same time. Perry Mason loved her! How in the world had she managed to earn the devotion of such an incredible man? The words she had repressed for so long rose to her lips. "I love you too!"

An unforgettable look and smile crossed Perry's face, and a faint sparkle could be seen in his fever-glazed eyes. They did not last very long. Another fit of coughing shook him.

Anguish began to seize Della. These sweet revelations ought to have been the beginning of a new life for the two of them, but instead, they were the end of everything. She began to sob, and leaning forward, lightly rested her head upon his shoulder.

"Perry. Perry, please don't leave me!" she gasped out between sobs.

The attorney used his last bit of strength to wrap his arms around her in a feeble embrace.

"My darling, please don't cry!" he begged, almost wishing that she did not care for him. This bitter parting would be easier for her, then. "Not even death can unravel the bonds of friendship and affection that we share. We will be together again one day, forever."

Her only response was more profound sobs, and renewed entreating that he not leave her.

In the middle of her pleading, she suddenly felt Perry's arms slipping away from her. Looking up in horror, Della saw that his eyes were closed, and that while he was still breathing, he had lapsed back into unconsciousness.

"Perry!" she cried out, gently shaking him, wanting to see his blue eyes one more time, hear his voice once more. But he did not wake.

She knew it was futile. He was likely moments away from expiring.

Grief overwhelmed her. Her faculties began to desert her. Della heard the voice of a woman screaming, but did not realize that it was her own. The noise brought the others into the room, but she did not know it. As through a fog, she felt compassionate hands laid upon her, and they tenderly pulled her out from the oxygen tent, and away from Perry's bed. She heard multiple comforting voices speaking to her, but she did not register what they said. At last, the room seemed to spin, and then darkness and oblivion enveloped her.

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