She laughed and through great effort brought his hand to her lips, kissing the back of it. “You can leave me for a few minutes, Hudson. I will be perfectly fine, I am sure.”
“There is no power in this world that will drag me away.”
He was not ordinarily so free with his emotions. He certainly had never been so honest. Growing up, and through his entire adult life, he had found it weak to express any emotion that might suggest a reliance on another person. And to show fear or worry...he would have rather had died.
With Florentia, it was different. She seemed to like seeing this side of him, and he liked that she did. He did not feel weak expressing his feelings like he had thought he would. Rather, there was a strength in it. To open himself fully, to expose himself in such a way that he could be struck down without care or remorse, was perhaps the bravest thing he had ever done.
“At least change your clothes,” she laughed. “For me and my nose.”
He had laughed too. “Alright, but I am not leaving the room.”
True to his word, Hudson had the clothes brought to him, and he changed behind a divider, gone from her sight for less than a minute.
She was still weak that first day, meaning that she fell asleep well before night came. Hudson sat with her, holding her hand, watching her sleep, telling himself he would not shut his eyes until he knew that she would wake again, only to fall asleep early in the morning because by that point he had not slept in days.
The second day was much the same as the first. As was the third day. Even awake, Florentia remained in a pitiful state of weakness, and with the pain she felt in her stomach, she struggled to eat or even drink water. More than once she threw up what she had forced down, and slowly Hudson was forced to watch as she withered.
The doctors were at a loss as to what could be done. He had a dozen visit over those first three days, and not one could evenguess what was wrong with her. The common consensus was that she must have eaten something, and a few theorized that if they knew what it was, they might be able to find a cure. But Florentia was certain she had not ingested anything out of the ordinary, which meant there was nothing they could do.
Those first three days were a true test for Hudson, playing havoc with his emotions in ways beyond his understanding. On the one hand, he was thrilled that he was now able to admit freely how he felt for Florentia, while on the other, the thought that he might lose her broke him.
Why is this happening? If only I had told her sooner, it might have been avoided. If only I had not been so cowardly, who knows where we might be right now.
It was not his fault. Logically, he knew that Florentia had not fallen ill because of him or anything that he had done. But that didn’t make it any easier to bear. If anything, it made it harder, because there was nothing that he could do but watch and pray for her recovery,. He was all too aware that as the days dragged on, she only grew worse.
“At least I know now that you are not faking,” Miss Bond joked when she came to visit. It was on the fourth day, and Hudson had sent for her, thinking that a friendly face might do the trick.
“I am glad we are able to settle that,” Florentia said weakly, her laughter even weaker than that.
“I wish Elias was here,” Miss. Bond then bemoaned. “He would know what to do.”
“When does he return?” Florentia asked.
“Still a few days,” Hudson answered. He had conversed via letter with his brother since leaving him, happy enough to learn that the purchase had gone through even without his being there, while not really caring one way or the other. “But let’s not talk about that.”
“If only there was something I could do,” Miss. Bond had sighed. She sat on the bed, holding Florentia by the hand. “But you are the strongest person I know, Florentia. And it is not even close. If anyone can get through this, it is you.”
“She’s right,” Hudson agreed readily. He needed to hear it said. He needed to say it out loud. His wife was a fighter, he knew, and she would pull through.She has to.
It was getting harder and harder to convince himself of this. He wanted to remain strong. He wanted to believe that everything would be fine. That he would wake up tomorrow morning to find his wife sitting up finally, smiling at him, the color returned to her face and the life back in her eyes. But so far, there was no suggestion at all that might happen.
And seeing her in constant pain...she would writhe and moan as she slept, sweating horribly, gritting her teeth through the suffering. It killed him to see it. This was the other side of the coin that is loving someone more than you love yourself. Theirpain is your own—and right now she had more than enough for both of them.
It was on the fourth evening, an hour before sunset, that Hudson began to accept that things were at their worst. Florentia was half awake. Her hand was frail and cold in his grip. And she spoke as if she too had started to accept that her days were numbered.
“I want you to do me a favor,” she said weakly, coughing loudly. “I do not want to die knowing that?—”
“Do not say that,” Hudson cut her off angrily. “What have I told you? Positivity only. You are not dying.”
She smiled as if at a joke. “Are you going to let me finish?”
“Not if you mention dying again.” His chest cracked open, and his heart spilled over the floor.
“I want you to do me a favor,” she started again. “No rush, for there isn’t one. I am fine.” She looked at him pointedly and he kissed the back of her hand. “But I have been thinking about you and your stepmother.”
Hudson very nearly pulled his hand free. “My stepmother? Please, Florentia, do not waste your last—” He caught his tongue. “Do not waste your strength thinking about her.”
“I want you to forgive her,” she continued, her voice soft, her eyelids closing, only to open back up. “Please. Do it for me.”
