A Winter So Cold

“Right this way, sir,” the nurse smiles sympathetically. She leads me down an eerily quiet hallway, “Mrs. Gavin will be in the room to your left.”

I follow her direction as I hear her footsteps fading away. When I arrive, I find the room number to be 345A. I program it into my mind, so when I come later I’ll be able to locate it by myself…Even though I doubt a later even exists.

Shaking, I grasp the door handle. I’m dormant for a moment, in order to collect myself. Feeling a front of false strength, I twist the knob and take a step in.

A grin climbs onto my face when I see her lying there, sleeping. Despite her pallid skin and her frail appearance, she is still beautiful. She is always beautiful. As I make my way to her, my tremoring starts up again and tears brew behind my eyes. I pull a chair up to her bedside and rest my head on her thigh, tightly gripping her small fingers. I turn my head to lay a kiss on her leg, “I love you,” I whisper, allowing a few tears to fall. I’ve told her I loved her so many times that it rolls off my tongue naturally. From the moment I met her, I knew she was the one I’d spend the rest of my life with, but as of late, that doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen. Despite how things have taken a turn for the worse, I wouldn’t change a thing. Well, I wish I could change a lot, so she could be healthy again, but no matter what, I’m glad I had her for the time that I did. She’s perfect in every aspect of the word. Her voice, her skin, her personality…everything about her is flawless to me.

I close my eyes. It becomes too painful to look at her when all I can see is her inevitable fate. I know she is as lovely as ever, but her sickness is obvious. It radiates from her and smothers the room.

When I received the news, I couldn’t believe it. My girl? Mywife? We’d only been married for eight months when she was diagnosed. Yet, here I am, three months later, staring down my ruin in its ugly face. In the perpetual summer of my hometown, I’ve never known a winter so cold.

I am rubbing the skin of her fingers with my thumb when I feel a hand run through my hair delicately. My head immediately looks up to see her dimmed chocolate eyes staring back at mine. My face lights up when she smiles in the slightest, “Hey, stud,” she speaks in a small voice.

“Hello, babe,” I laugh, in spite of my sadness. At least she’s still got her humor.

“I’ve missed you,” she tells me, wiping away my tears with a melancholy expression.

“I know, honey. I won’t leave again. I’m off work for a month.” I omit that my boss had granted me a leave for mourning. He said a month, but told me that I could take as much time as I needed. It hurts to prepare for her passing, but I have to accept it. Besides, I’ve already been working long hours just to avoid all this pain. I regret that. As her husband, I should be with her every step of the way…but I chickened out like a child.

“Good,” she grins lovingly, cupping my cheek when I lean toward her and kiss the back of her hand, “that means we’ll be together all the time,” she chokes, regardless of her joyful expression. I know better than to think she's all that happy.

“You’ve got it, precious. I’ll be beside you as long as you need me,” my voice cracks.

We pretend like everything is okay, when we both know how this ends. I suppose it’s because we are trying to save each other from pain. I guess it’s better to see this off with a smile rather than crying, right?

Who cares? I’ll cry anyway.

“How are you feeling?” I question.

“Not very good. Everything hurts and I’m exhausted.”

“Oh, God, I’m sorry that I woke you, baby. You just go on back to sleep-”

“Hush, I’ll do no such thing. Not when you’re here.”

“I’ll always be here…” I force out. My tears are falling and I can’t stop them, so I do the next best thing and shut my eyes and drop my head to hide them from her.

My body racks a few times as I let out little breaths of air, still attempting to hold in my sobs. Her tiny hand lifts my chin, “Please don't close your eyes, I don’t know where to look without them,” she murmurs.

I squeeze her other hand and slowly look at her, gasping when I see tears dripping down her face, too.

I can’t stand to see her hurting, “I’m so sorry,” I cry, “I’m so sorry. I’m supposed to take care of you, and I failed…and then I run off when you need me most.”

“My love, there was nothing you could do, and you shouldn’t blame yourself. Nor should you be ashamed. I understand, I’d probably lock myself up, too, if it were you,” she touches my lips, “I know you care…I can see it in the way you look at me. I’ve never doubted you.”

My free hand grips her wrist near my face, “I’m scared, baby.”

“I’m scared, too. But we’re together…we’re gonna be all right.” For having a constant flow of tears, she speaks rather clearly.

I take the opportunity to crawl into the hospital bed beside her, minding the numerous tubes connected to her. She curls into me, breathing in deeply. It breaks my heart when she tries to grip my cotton shirt, but is much too weak to get a good hold on it. I take her hand and hold it to my heart.

“I could stay here forever,” she whispers, “Here, in your arms, is the best place I could ever be.”

I hum in response, my tears drying up. I drag my fingers gently along the contours of her beautiful face. She watches me as I trace her now gaunt cheekbone, underneath the plastic of her nasal cannula and down to the curved cupid’s bow of her chapped lips. I lean in to kiss them gingerly. I then place what seems like hundreds of kisses to her mouth and onto her cheeks and forehead. When I finally pull away, she pecks the tip of my nose once and giggles, warming my heart and causing me to beam at her. It feels like our first kiss all over again.

We were both six years old, and she and I had been neighbors for about a month when she came over to ask me to play. Of course, I agreed happily. She took my hand and led me to her backyard. We’d already had several play dates, so I knew that her mother always had cookies baking when a friend came over. I remember her running in the back door to retrieve two snicker doodles for us when her mother wasn’t looking; we weren’t supposed to eat them yet. We hid behind the oak tree and after finishing our treats, we stared dumbly at each other. Obviously, I had the biggest crush on her, so I took a leap and nervously pressed my lips to hers. It was the best kiss we'd ever shared.

We’ve been inseparable ever since.

She really is my true love, my soul mate, my forever…

“I love you so much,” I breathe, holding her to me, our noses touching.

“And I love you,” her warm breath washes over my face.

We lie content in each others embrace, inhaling and exhaling as one, hearts beating as one.

Until hers stops and I feel a final wheeze of air against my lips.

The ever-present beeping flat lines.

I don’t notice when the doctors come rushing in, or when they pull me from her.

I’m numb. My heart might as well have hindered, too.

Before I know it, I am in my Chevy, driving to the drop-off where my sweetheart and I first made love in this exact car.

I park it abruptly, silent tears leaving streaks down my face.

I think about our first date, about the night I proposed, our wedding, our honeymoon.

I jerk the stick shift.

I think about our first kiss…How I stared at her rose lips as I got closer and closer.

I think about how it felt when I finally reached them.

I think about how beautiful the water looks as the nose of my Impala turns down off the cliff.

I think about my baby and how I’ll be with her soon.