Terrible Things

We'd been married for such a short period of time when I first noticed something off about Sean. A month or so, perhaps. At first I thought it was nothing more than a common cold, but as time progressed, it was clear that it was something a tad more malignant. Even then, even with Sean's pallid skin, the mauve stains beneath his eyes, and the rib shattering coughing, I still refused to believe it was anything more than a nasty virus.

He regularly made trips to the GP, but he arranged them whilst I was at work, which of course, now, looks a little suspicious, but it never dawned on me that something could be wrong with my precious angel, something I couldn't prevent. He'd return back again with more and more prescriptions each time, and although they should have been helping him battle whatever it was that had been taking such a hefty toll on his health, he appeared weaker with every passing day. He still kept up the pretense that there was nothing serious, nothing to worry about, mainly for my benefit I suppose.

His hair would fall out in clumps during the night, and I could see how much it hurt him to lose it. It was the only feature that he had ever considered remotely beautiful and now it was gone. Of course I was terrified, but I tried to keep calm for his sake. We went shopping, and rather than hiding his head beneath a beanie as he frequently did, I saved up a bit of spare cash and bought a wig for him. It fitted perfectly, and I'd made sure to get one with the sort of flippy fringe he liked. He'd squealed with delight when he saw it, even if he barely had the energy for it.

"It fits you well," I smiled.

"Yeah," he agreed cheerfully, although there was a raspy tone to his voice.

"I did tell you if you dyed your hair too much, it would fall out. Now you can do whatever you want with this one," I joked, and he chuckled softly.

Finally, though, there came a time when he could no longer hide the severity of his ailment, and was confined to a wheelchair. He still denied that it was of great importantence, and insisted he would be able to battle through it no problem. Because he was now constantly trapped in his wheelchair, he couldn't go to his appointments on his own, yet he still refused to let me take him. Instead, he asked Jay, who was willing to do anything if he thought it would help his big brother in any way possible.

---

They left early in the morning, before I'd even woken, so I rose to an empty house for the first time in just over a year. It terrified me. I searched high and low, before I eventually gave in to the realisation that they had gone.

I sat in the living room, doing nothing but watching the clock intently for the next hour until they returned. It wasn't overly long, but in my worry stricken state, it felt like an eternity. The television was already on, and it flickered occasionally, light consuming the room, but I paid it no attention. The only thing with the power to snap me out of my trance was a few sharp knocks on the door.

I rushed to it immediately, wrenching it open, and breathing out a deep sigh of relief when I saw my husband and my brother-in-law standing behind him.

Jay looked at me for a brief second, before his eyes darted away. He looked awkward standing in the doorway, and upon closer inspection, I noticed his cheeks were stained with dried up tears, and his eyes still had a reddish tint. It couldn't possibly be good news and I feared the worst.

"I'll leave you two alone," he said, trying his best to keep his voice even, and disguising a sniffle as a cough.

"Thank you, Jay," Sean mumbled. He didn't appear quite so devastated by this news, but there was still a hint of sadness in his voice.

Jay nodded, bending down to hug Sean tightly before he left. As soon as I heard the familiar click of the door closing, Sean buried his face in his hands, tears rolling silently down his cheeks. I rushed to comfort him instinctively, but he pushed me away. I wouldn't push him any farther if he didn't want me to, but I moved him to the sofa at the very least. I wanted him to be comfortable.

He wouldn't look at me at first, turning his head away every time he caught my eye.

"What's wrong?" I whispered, sitting down beside him and sliding my arm round his waist. He relaxed into my touch, which I was grateful for.

"I was at the doctor's earlier," he said in one shaky breath. "I'm sick, Ian, you know I'm sick."

I nodded, fearing what he was going to say next.

"The doctors... They told me... Ian, they told me I only have weeks to live."

That's when I broke down. The tears cascaded down my cheeks, and I could do nothing to stop them. Sean mumbled softly, trying to assure me that everything would be okay, but I wouldn't listen. How could everything be okay if the most amazing person I'd ever had the good fortune to meet was dying?

I pulled him into a hug and simply wouldn't let him go. This could be one of the last times I got to hold him in my arms, and I was going to treasure every moment I had with him.