The remains

Chapter 79

Michael was being kept alive inside a clear partitioned room in the ICU Caroline wheeled me into the dimly lit room, pushing me directly to the bed that held my husband’s comatose body. When Caroline left the room, I took Michael’s hand in mine. Already it felt cold and as frail as Molly’s had just before she died all those years ago.

There was an IV attached to his left forearm by means of a needle and clear plastic tubing. The monitors set beside the bed recorded blood pressure and heart rate.

Although dark hair veiled more than half his face, I could see just how pale was.

“We’re going to have a baby,” I whispered. “How about that? A couple of divorcees starting a family together.”

I squeezed cold fingers together and I began to cry. For a brief second, Michael’s eyes opened up. I felt my heart race. But just like that, the eyes closed and a short breath was exhaled out his mouth. That’s when the green line on the monitor went flat and an electronic alarm sounded.

“I’m sorry,” I cried. “I’m sorry, Michael.”

A nurse came in then. She didn’t look at me at all. She approached the machine and turned off the alarm. Glancing down at her wristwatch, she made a mental note of the time. Before walking back out, she set her hand on my right shoulder and gently squeezed.

“Stay with him for a bit,” she said.

She closed the door behind her.

I stayed with Michael for a while. I cried and I also talked to him, planned things out. But after a time I knew it was no use. Michael had waited to die until I came to him one last time. Until I said goodbye.

Michael waited to die. He loved me that much.

I let go of his hand knowing I would never hold it again. I let go of his hand. But still I felt it in mine.

Michael.

I let go of his hand. It was time to let him go.