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Time moves so damn slow, each minute feels so agonizing.
I don’t know how many minutes pass, it could have been two or it could have been an hour, but I hear someone say, “Ma’am.”
I look up and see that same nurse who spoke to me earlier. He stands next to a doctor now. Jumping to my feet, I rush over to them.
“Can I see him?” I ask, tears forming again.
“What’s your name?” the doctor asks.
“A-Ana.” I answer.
“Ana,” he says gently, “We did everything we could.”
I let out a breath, “Thank you.” I look at them, waiting for the next instruction, they don’t say anything at first. “Okay,” I say hesitantly. “Thank you for doing everything. C-can I see him now?”
They stare at me, concern and pity covering their faces. “Yes, but I don’t think you understand,” the nurse says. I furrow my brows. “We did everything we could to save him.”
“Okay,” I say, not understanding why they’re repeating this.
“Ana, Hayden is gone.”
I nod. My brain feels like it’s in a haze. I can’t comprehend what they are saying. I know they’re speaking words that I have heard before, but I can’t make sense of what is being said to me. “Can you bring me to him? Please,” I beg.
They glance at each other, sharing a look before turning and beckoning me to follow. They walk down a different hallway and into the first room on the right. Nurses are walking around the room, clearing out machines and picking up things off the ground. As they see me, they quietly walk out of the room.
Hayden lays on a hospital bed, still unmoving. Slowly, so slowly, my body feels like it’s being coated in ice.
A voice behind me says, “We tried everything we could. But we made the official call just a few minutes ago.”
“What call?” I whisper as a tear slips down my cheek.
“His death, ma’am,” he says, his voice sad and heavy. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
I turn around and stare at the men again. I realize I’m crying. I shake my head—I shake his words off, shake them out of my head. “No.” I laugh through my tears. “No.”
“I’m so sorry,” he says again, I look at him confused. “Is there someone we can call to come and be with you?”
“Someone?” I ask, still achingly trying to make sense of what is happening.
“Someone that can come and be with you right now,” he repeats.
I look away from him and back to Hayden on the bed, sprawled out on his back. His eyes are still looking up, straight ahead, looking at nothing. His shirt is cut up the middle.
“He’s—” I choke. “He’s not…he’s not.” I shake my head. I walk over to him, touching his smooth tanned chest that I laid upon for years, looking for its warmth. I push the hair back from his face and touch his cheek. Why does he feel colder?
“He’s not—” I start to say and cut off again. I hold his face in my hands and lean over him, inches away. “Hayden?” I whisper.
Nothing. No smiles or smirks, no jokes. Nothing.
“Hayden,” I say again, a little louder. A tear drops on his face, right next to his eye, and he doesn’t even flinch. His mouth is parted slightly. “Wake up. Please wake up,” I plead. I lay my head on his chest, praying I’ll hear that rhythm that has become the soundtrack to my life over these last four years. The heartbeat that has become so in tune with my own.
But there’s nothing. Not a single sound. Complete silence… as if it’s empty.
A weight drops in my chest. In my gut. In my heart.
“Oh my God,” I cry. I feel the reality starting to hit me, fall over me, and it weighs more than I can hold. Way, way more. My chest aches, my heart feels like it’s splintering into a million tiny pieces—pieces that will never fit together again. “No,” I cry. “God, no please, Hayden!”
I grab his arms and shake him. “Don’t leave me,” I plead. “Please, please, please,” I cry and cry and cry. I lower my head into the crook of his neck, my arms wrapped around his body. His arms that would have immediately wrapped around me in return don’t move. They stay there on the bed. There’s no warmth to him anymore, he feels so cold. My chest feels so cold. I feel so cold.
