The thirsty wife

I could see the place in the distance, on a hilltop, at the end of a long, dry and dusty road. There had to be water there. I continued the journey, pushing my wife in her wheel chair. We were both thirsty. It seemed we had been travelling for an eternity, although I could not remember the beginning of the journey. "Nearly there, I said. My wife nodded. I knew she was thirsty, though she hadn't been able to say much since her stroke.
Eventually we got there.
"Come inside, said the man at the entrance. "Stay as long as you like.
Through the gateway, I could see a beautiful garden with fountains and lakes, and lovely naked girls frolicking.
"Is this heaven? I asked.
"That's for you to decide, said the man. "But we're short of men, and the girls want male company. Step this way.
"My wife needs a drink, I said.
"No problem. I'll get someone to take care of her. We've got a special place for people like her. It's round the back. She'll be well looked after. Come inside.
I looked down at my wife.
"Go on, she croaked. I'll be fine.
I stooped to kiss her goodbye. A tear rolled down her cheek.
"I'm not leaving her, I said.
"Then you can't come here, said the man. "And there's nowhere else for a hundred miles.
Wearily, I set off once again.
We had not gone far when a bright light flashed. The wheelchair and my wife vanished, and in their place was the most exquisite young woman I'd ever seen. We were in a garden, much better than the one we had just left.
"Thank you for not leaving me, she said. "I was once your burden, but now I'm your great reward.