{"id":919,"date":"2026-08-12T10:40:26","date_gmt":"2026-08-12T10:40:26","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mealmagic.delicedcook.com\/?p=919"},"modified":"2026-08-12T10:40:26","modified_gmt":"2026-08-12T10:40:26","slug":"at-73-i-married-my-high-school-sweetheart-as-he-was-dying-because-it-was-his-final-wish-the-morning-after-his-funeral-his-lawyer-knocked-on-my-door-looked-me-in-the-eyes-and-said-thomas-was-ri","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mealmagic.delicedcook.com\/?p=919","title":{"rendered":"At 73, I Married My High School Sweetheart as He Was Dying Because It Was His Final Wish. The Morning After His Funeral, His Lawyer Knocked on My Door, Looked Me in the Eyes, and Said: “Thomas Was Right… You Walked Straight Into His Trap.” I never imagined I would get married at seventy-three. Thomas was my first love when we were both seventeen. Back then, I had earned a place at a university in another city, while he planned to stay in our hometown and help run his father’s business. At the bus station, he begged me not to leave. But I had worked too hard to give up my future. When I refused to stay, Thomas told me I had broken his heart. After that day, we never saw each other again. More than fifty years passed. A few months ago, I returned to my hometown. The truth was, my retirement income was no longer enough to cover my expenses, so I accepted a nursing position at the local hospital\u2014the same kind of work I had done before retiring. Life has a strange way of bringing people back together. One morning, I walked into a patient’s room to begin my shift. I glanced at the medical chart and froze when I saw the name at the top. Thomas. My heart skipped a beat. Then I looked toward the bed. The man lying there looked frail, pale, and much thinner than the boy I remembered. But the moment our eyes met, I knew it was him. Thomas recognized me too. A gentle smile spread across his face. “Hello, Nancy,” he said. From that day on, we talked every time I was on duty. He told me he had never married. Neither had I. At first, we talked about old memories, school, and the town we had once shared. But as the days passed, our conversations became warmer and more personal. It felt as though the fifty-six years between us were slowly disappearing. Then one afternoon, Thomas gently took my hand. “Nancy,” he said softly, “I feel terrible asking you this.” I sat beside him, already worried by the seriousness in his voice. “I’ve loved you my entire life,” he continued. “I know I don’t have much time left, but I’ve always dreamed of marrying you.” He looked into my eyes. “Will you marry me? It’s my final wish.” For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Thomas had stage-four cancer. I knew he was dying. After spending most of my life wondering what might have happened if I had stayed, I couldn’t walk away from him a second time. So I said yes. A few days later, we were married in his hospital room. There were no flowers, no music, and no grand celebration. Just a nurse, Thomas’s lawyer, and the two of us holding hands beside his bed. His eyes sparkled as he said his vows. So did mine. For one brief month, I was Thomas’s wife. Then he passed away. I thought I had prepared myself for the loss. I hadn’t. My heart broke as if I were seventeen again, standing at that bus station and watching him disappear from my life. The morning after the funeral, someone knocked on my door. It was Thomas’s lawyer. He was carrying a small wooden box under his arm. After stepping inside, he gave me a strange smile and said: “Thomas was right… You walked straight into his trap.” My hands began to tremble. He carefully placed the box on the table in front of me. I slowly lifted the lid… And the moment I saw what Thomas had left inside… I screamed. \ud83d\udc49 The full story is in the link in the first comment. \u2b07\ufe0f"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

Part 1:\u00a0<\/span><\/strong><\/h1>\n

I believed that saying goodbye to the man I had loved for most of my life would be the most painful thing I would ever have to endure.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n

I made a mistake.<\/span><\/p>\n

The real reason why Thomas had returned was not revealed until after his departure.<\/span><\/p>\n

The rain gently tapped against the window of my small rented apartment as I sat alone, stirring a cup of instant coffee that my budget barely allowed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

At seventy-three, I returned to the town I had left when I was seventeen. The buildings had changed, the shops had different names, and many familiar faces were gone.<\/span><\/p>\n

However, somehow, the streets still reminded me of them.<\/span><\/p>\n

My pension wasn’t enough to cover the ever-increasing rent and daily expenses, so I took my old nurse’s badge out of a drawer, bought a new uniform, and went back to work at the local hospital.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

It was the same profession I had retired from years before.<\/span><\/p>\n

Going home felt strange.<\/span><\/p>\n

Almost nothing resembled how he remembered it, but everything conveyed the same feeling.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

I had never been married.<\/span><\/p>\n

I had never had children.<\/span><\/p>\n

Over the years, I’ve had a few relationships and several kind men have tried to build a life with me.<\/span><\/p>\n

But none of them had ever been Thomas.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

He had not spoken her name aloud in more than fifty years.<\/span><\/p>\n

Thomas had been my first love.<\/span><\/p>\n

We were both seventeen when we met, young enough to believe that promises could last forever simply because we meant them when we made them.<\/span><\/p>\n

I had earned a place at a university in another city.<\/span><\/p>\n

Thomas had chosen to stay in the city and work in his father’s hardware store.<\/span><\/p>\n

The day I left, she was by my side at the bus station with tears in her eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Please don’t go, Nancy,” he pleaded.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I have to do it,” I told him. “I’ve worked too hard to pass up this opportunity.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThen you\u2019re breaking my heart.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Those were practically the last words he said to me.<\/span><\/p>\n

I got on the bus, left the city, and spent the next fifty-six years believing I would never see him again.<\/span><\/p>\n

The sound of the telephone pulled me from my reverie.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I knew who it was before I answered.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014Nancy, it’s Raymond\u2014 said a cheerful voice. \u2014I’ve come to see how my favorite cousin is doing.<\/span><\/p>\n

Favorite cousin.<\/span><\/p>\n

Raymond and I had barely spoken in thirty years.<\/span><\/p>\n

But since I returned to the city, he started calling me almost every week.<\/span><\/p>\n

Her voice was always kind, but her questions made me uncomfortable.<\/span><\/p>\n

“How’s the apartment?” he asked. “The rent must be hard to pay on a pension.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m handling it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHave you organized your documents? Your will? Your bank information? A woman living alone at your age needs to prepare for these things.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I made an effort to maintain a polite tone of voice.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m fine, Raymond.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou know, I used to visit Aunt Margaret very often before she passed away. I helped her with her finances and personal affairs. Family must take care of family.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Something about the way he said it made my coffee suddenly taste bitter.<\/span><\/p>\n

“That was very kind of you,” I replied. “But I have to get ready for work.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I ended the call before I could ask anything else.<\/span><\/p>\n

The hospital smelled of disinfectant, medicine, and the silent anxiety that seemed to permanently inhabit its walls.<\/span><\/p>\n

That morning, I pushed my cart down the long corridor, checking the room numbers and the patients’ medical records.<\/span><\/p>\n

I was already exhausted, and it wasn’t even ten o’clock yet.<\/span><\/p>\n

Room 220.<\/span><\/p>\n

A new patient had been admitted for long-term care.<\/span><\/p>\n

I opened the door, went inside, and glanced at the chart.<\/span><\/p>\n

The first name took my breath away.<\/span><\/p>\n

Thomas.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then I saw the last name underneath.<\/span><\/p>\n

I gripped the file tightly with my hands.<\/span><\/p>\n

It couldn’t be him.<\/span><\/p>\n

There must have been hundreds of men with that name.<\/span><\/p>\n

But when I looked up at the patient lying in bed, I recognized him immediately.<\/span><\/p>\n

Fifty-six years had passed, but they had not erased the face he remembered.<\/span><\/p>\n

Thomas was thinner now.<\/span><\/p>\n

Her skin was pale, and the illness had left her with deep dark circles under her eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

However, those eyes were still the same ones that had seen me get on a bus so many years ago.<\/span><\/p>\n

He looked at me and smiled as if he had been waiting for me.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Hello, Nancy,” he said softly.<\/span><\/p>\n

For several seconds, I couldn’t speak.<\/span><\/p>\n

I stood by his bed, holding a blood pressure monitor, with the feeling that my whole life had followed me to that hospital room.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Thomas,” I finally whispered. “Oh my God! Thomas!”<\/span><\/p>\n

After that day, I found reasons to visit his room during every shift.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sometimes he checked his medication.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sometimes I would bring him water.<\/span><\/p>\n

Sometimes, I would simply sit next to him after I finished my chores.<\/span><\/p>\n

Thomas told me that he had never been married.<\/span><\/p>\n

I confessed that I hadn’t gotten married either.<\/span><\/p>\n

We laughed at our gray hair, our knee pain, and the silly dreams we once shared.<\/span><\/p>\n

Other times, we would sit in silence, so comfortable that the decades that separated us seemed less important.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Are you still drinking your coffee black?” he asked one afternoon.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Yeah.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI knew you would.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

There was something unusual about his serenity.<\/span><\/p>\n

Many patients with serious illnesses were scared, angry, or overwhelmed.<\/span><\/p>\n

Thomas seemed calm.<\/span><\/p>\n

He behaved like someone who had been waiting a long time for something final to happen.<\/span><\/p>\n

One morning, he asked me a question very carefully.<\/span><\/p>\n

Do you have any family nearby, Nancy? Anyone who can help you?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cJust a distant cousin named Raymond. He calls me more often since I got back.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

For a brief moment, Thomas’s expression changed.<\/span><\/p>\n

He clenched his jaw.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Then he relaxed and quickly changed the subject.<\/span><\/p>\n

At that time I didn’t understand why.<\/span><\/p>\n

That same week, Raymond’s calls became even more insistent.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked. “You shouldn’t be alone at your age.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m fine.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHave you made a will? You should name someone responsible in case something happens.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI already told you, Raymond. I\u2019m fine.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He asked me which bank I used.<\/span><\/p>\n

I wanted to know if I was the owner of the apartment.<\/span><\/p>\n

She mentioned Aunt Margaret again, proudly describing how she had handled everything towards the end of her life.<\/span><\/p>\n

I remembered that Margaret had died practically destitute in a rented room.<\/span><\/p>\n

For the first time, I wondered why that memory troubled me so much.<\/span><\/p>\n

Even so, I ignored my instincts.<\/span><\/p>\n

I spent most of my life ignoring things that made me uncomfortable.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then one afternoon, Thomas asked me to sit next to him.<\/span><\/p>\n

His hand found mine on the blanket.<\/span><\/p>\n

It felt light and cold.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014Nancy \u2014he said\u2014, I feel terrible asking you this.<\/span><\/p>\n

Our conversations had become more affectionate as the days went by, but the seriousness in his voice frightened me.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Ask me.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI have loved you all my life.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Part 2:<\/span><\/strong><\/h1>\n

My breath caught in my throat.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI know I don\u2019t have much time left,\u201d he continued. \u201cBut there\u2019s something I\u2019ve always dreamed of doing.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He looked me straight in the eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Will you marry me?”<\/span><\/p>\n

For several seconds, the room disappeared.<\/span><\/p>\n

Fifty-six years of questions, regrets, and imagined possibilities seemed to accumulate between us.<\/span><\/p>\n

Part of me heard Raymond’s voice warning me that I was being foolish.<\/span><\/p>\n

But another voice\u2014the voice of the seventeen-year-old girl I had been\u2014told me not to wander off again.<\/span><\/p>\n

Thomas had advanced cancer.<\/span><\/p>\n

I knew he was dying.<\/span><\/p>\n

This was his last wish.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014Yes \u2014I whispered.<\/span><\/p>\n

Tears filled her eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

Mine too.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Thomas. I will marry you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He squeezed my hand.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou won\u2019t regret it, Nancy. I promise.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

There was something unusual about the way he pronounced those words.<\/span><\/p>\n

It sounded less like reassuring words and more like a carefully planned promise.<\/span><\/p>\n

At the time, I thought he was only referring to our marriage.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

I still didn’t understand that he was referring to something much more important.<\/span><\/p>\n

The wedding took place three days later in her hospital room.<\/span><\/p>\n

One of the nurses stayed by our side as a witness.<\/span><\/p>\n

A quiet man, dressed in a gray suit, introduced himself as Walter, Thomas’s lawyer.<\/span><\/p>\n

I found it unusual that a lawyer would attend such a small ceremony.<\/span><\/p>\n

But Thomas took my hand and I pushed that thought away.<\/span><\/p>\n

Her eyes sparkled as she uttered her vows.<\/span><\/p>\n

Mine too.<\/span><\/p>\n

After the ceremony, Walter opened a leather briefcase and placed a folder on the wheeled table next to Thomas’s bed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThere are some documents that require your signature,\u201d he explained. \u201cTake all the time you need.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

It didn’t take me long.<\/span><\/p>\n

I trusted Thomas completely.<\/span><\/p>\n

Whenever Walter pointed to a line, I signed it with my name.<\/span><\/p>\n

That night I told Raymond what had happened.<\/span><\/p>\n

His reaction was immediate.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Have you completely lost your mind?” she shouted into the phone. “You married a dying man you barely know?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve known Thomas longer than I\u2019ve known you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

“You’re being manipulated,” Raymond blurted out. “A stranger sees an elderly nurse with a pension and convinces her to marry him. You need to get the marriage annulled immediately.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“No.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNancy, you don\u2019t understand what you\u2019ve done.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI understand perfectly.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I ended the call.<\/span><\/p>\n

A month later, Thomas passed away.<\/span><\/p>\n

He passed away peacefully early in the morning, with my hand intertwined with his.<\/span><\/p>\n

The pain was much greater than I expected.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

We had only spent a few weeks together, but somehow those weeks contained all the love and longing of the fifty-six years we had lost.<\/p>\n

The funeral was small.<\/span><\/p>\n

I stayed by his grave and finally allowed myself to cry.<\/span><\/p>\n

Raymond attended, of course.<\/span><\/p>\n

He waited until most of the mourners had left before approaching me.<\/span><\/p>\n

“You know I’m your only living relative,” he said, adjusting his tie. “Family matters should be kept within the family.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I didn’t say anything.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOlder people shouldn\u2019t sign documents they don\u2019t understand.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI understood everything Thomas told me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Raymond gave me a slight smile.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI helped Aunt Margaret with all her affairs. She was very grateful.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

A feeling of cold ran through my body.<\/span><\/p>\n

He remembered how Thomas’s expression changed every time he mentioned Raymond’s name.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I need to go home,” I said.<\/span><\/p>\n

“We’ll talk soon,” Raymond replied. “We need to discuss your finances.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I left without answering.<\/span><\/p>\n

The next morning, someone knocked on my apartment door.<\/span><\/p>\n

When I opened it, Walter was outside holding a small wooden box under one arm.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Can I come in?”<\/span><\/p>\n

I stepped aside.<\/span><\/p>\n

He placed the box on my living room table and sat down opposite me.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThomas asked me to deliver this the morning after his funeral,\u201d Walter explained. \u201cNot before.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

I stared at him.<\/span><\/p>\n

Walter continued.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThis morning I also sent Raymond a legal notice. In it, I inform him that his finances and future medical care are now protected by a trust.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

“What are you talking about?”<\/span><\/p>\n

Walter smiled slightly.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThomas was right. You fell right into his trap.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

My hands started to tremble.<\/span><\/p>\n

Walter took a folded letter out of his jacket.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThomas asked me to read it exactly as he had written it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He unfolded the page.<\/span><\/p>\n

“My dearest Nancy, please forgive me. I set a trap for you, but you were never the one I intended to trap.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I grabbed onto the edge of the table.<\/span><\/p>\n

Walter looked at me.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe documents you signed after the wedding did much more than accept Thomas\u2019s inheritance.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He explained that a document created a trust funded entirely with Thomas’s assets and savings.<\/span><\/p>\n

Walter had been appointed to manage it for my benefit.<\/span><\/p>\n

Another document gave Walter the legal authority to protect my financial and medical affairs in case I ever became incapacitated and unable to make decisions for myself.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cRaymond has no control over anything,\u201d Walter said. \u201cHe can\u2019t pressure you to give up your money or your property. Any important document must be reviewed by the trust first.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He placed his hand on the wooden box.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat was Thomas\u2019s trap. He put up a legal barrier around you so that no one could take advantage of you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Walter slid the box onto the table.<\/span><\/p>\n

My fingers trembled as I touched the small brass latch.<\/span><\/p>\n

I thought about Raymond’s questions.<\/span><\/p>\n

I thought about his interest in my bank accounts and my will.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then I thought about Thomas’s last promise.<\/span><\/p>\n

I opened the lid.<\/span><\/p>\n

Inside was the deed to Thomas’s family home.<\/span><\/p>\n

Below were legal trust documents in my name.<\/span><\/p>\n

But that wasn’t what took my breath away.<\/span><\/p>\n

Part 3:<\/span><\/strong><\/h1>\n

Beneath the papers was a thick bundle of letters, carefully tied with a piece of string.<\/span><\/p>\n

There were fifty-five letters.<\/span><\/p>\n

One for almost every year that Thomas and I had been separated.<\/span><\/p>\n

A handwritten note lay on top of it.<\/span><\/p>\n

I brought a hand to my mouth as tears streamed down my face.<\/span><\/p>\n

“I don’t understand,” I whispered.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014Read the note\u2014 Walter said. \u2014Thomas wanted you to know the truth in his own words.<\/span><\/p>\n

Thomas explained that my aunt Margaret had been a customer of his family’s hardware store for forty years.<\/span><\/p>\n

Over time, she had also become his friend.<\/span><\/p>\n

Years earlier, Thomas had discovered by chance that Raymond was secretly taking money out of Margaret’s accounts.<\/span><\/p>\n

He had tried to warn her.<\/span><\/p>\n

But Margaret trusted her nephew and refused to believe the accusation.<\/span><\/p>\n

When she finally died with virtually nothing, Raymond had walked away with far more money than anyone expected.<\/span><\/p>\n

Thomas never forgot what had happened.<\/span><\/p>\n

Years later, he found out that I had returned to the city.<\/span><\/p>\n

She also discovered that Raymond had started calling me regularly and asking me questions about my finances.<\/span><\/p>\n

Thomas understood what Raymond was planning.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Did he know?” I whispered. “Did Thomas know Raymond was trying to take advantage of me?”<\/span><\/p>\n

Walter nodded.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s why Thomas arranged to be transferred to your hospital room. He wanted to see you again, but he also wanted to protect you before it was too late.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The wedding had not been a rash decision made by a dying man.<\/span><\/p>\n

Thomas had planned it all.<\/span><\/p>\n

He knew that becoming my legal husband would give him a powerful tool to protect me.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

I had placed my assets in a secure trust and appointed a lawyer who would prevent Raymond, or anyone else, from taking control of my life.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe trap was never meant for me,\u201d I said.<\/span><\/p>\n

“No,” Walter replied. “It was for Raymond.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I pressed Thomas’s letter to my chest.<\/span><\/p>\n

For more than fifty years, I avoided saying his name.<\/span><\/p>\n

Now it was the only name she wanted to say.<\/span><\/p>\n

Three days later, Raymond arrived at my apartment and banged on the door furiously.<\/span><\/p>\n

He carried with him a folder full of threats, accusations, and promises to defy everything Thomas had planned.<\/span><\/p>\n

As it happened, Walter was sitting at my kitchen table drinking tea.<\/span><\/p>\n

“All the documents are legally valid,” Walter told her calmly. “You can challenge the trust if you want, but you’ll lose.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Raymond glared at me.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Silly old woman.”<\/span><\/p>\n

I looked directly at him.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo, Raymond. I am a woman who was deeply loved. There is a difference.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He left without saying another word.<\/span><\/p>\n

That spring I moved into Thomas’s family’s house.<\/span><\/p>\n

Every Sunday morning, I would make myself a cup of black coffee, sit by the window, and open one of his letters.<\/span><\/p>\n

I read them slowly.<\/span><\/p>\n

Some told me about their work.<\/span><\/p>\n

Others described the life he had imagined we could have shared.<\/span><\/p>\n

Many simply said they hoped I was happy.<\/span><\/p>\n

For decades, I believed that love had passed me by.<\/span><\/p>\n

But it wasn’t like that.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Part 1:\u00a0 I believed that saying goodbye to the man I had loved for most of my life would be…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":920,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-919","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mealmagic.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/919","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mealmagic.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mealmagic.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mealmagic.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mealmagic.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=919"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/mealmagic.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/919\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":921,"href":"https:\/\/mealmagic.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/919\/revisions\/921"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mealmagic.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/920"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mealmagic.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=919"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mealmagic.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=919"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mealmagic.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=919"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}