AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She inhaled the minty scent of the tree as the breeze fluttered the hair around her face. Her throat tightened as she touched her necklace, her heart reaching for him. Charles’s death still seemed like such a sore wound that had never healed. His passing felt like it had happened yesterday.
In the pale-blue-painted room, the loud beeps coming from the monitors sent shivers down Mary’s spine. The scent of antiseptic, stale air, and the sounds of the busy hospital only increased the horror fluttering through her veins. She lay curled up next to Charles. His cold, frail body, not at all what she remembered, was a hard reminder of her reality.
The monitors glowed in the dark room, casting a greenish light over Charles’s hollowed-out cheekbones. Once a strong man, he was now nothing but bones. His body weakened enough that he resembled an elderly man even though he was only forty-five years old.
Mary snuggled up against his shoulder, settling her head on his chest, hoping he’d wrap a strong arm around her. That was wishful thinking. Her husband was dying. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she listened to his shallow breaths. How much longer would he suffer? Five months of chemotherapy and every alternative treatment out there had resulted in nothing less than a body that had long ago given up.
She raised her head from his shoulder, gulping at the air, as she studied the man she loved. The twenty months that had passed since he’d received the diagnosis of pancreatic cancer had been long. As much as she wanted to continue to fight the truth, his end drew near.
“Charles,” she whispered, raising her hand to brush her fingers over his clammy cheek. Their story had been one of fairy tales and instant connection. Within a week of meeting Charles, she knew she’d marry him.
He’d swept into her life when she was in her twenties, taken her in his arms and never let go. Now he couldn’t keep that promise any longer that they would have a happily-ever-after. Her dreams were stolen without any hope of salvation.
She whispered his name again and he stirred. His breathing became so ragged she pulled her hand away, so as not to wake him. The morphine drip ran constantly now to help ease his pain. His eyes had opened for mere minutes over the past week, and only short conversations occurred as the agony of his disease stole him.
His voice cracked through his dry lips. “Mary.”
“I’m here.” She cupped his cheek and the skin was a chalk color. The dark circles under his eyes were so black. “I’m with you, Charles.”
The corner of his mouth arched up ever so slightly before his eyes opened. His head that once held beautiful, thick black hair was now bald. His light brown eyes that charmed her were pale.
She pushed herself up to see him better, not wanting him to strain. “Just rest, you don’t need to speak.”
He swallowed once before he said, “It won’t be long…”
The lump in her throat that had formed so many months ago thickened. The ache in her chest silently deepened. She had forced herself to be strong for him. For Charles. “Shhh, stay quiet. Please don’t push yourself.”
“Listen to me…” His gaze, which had once held so much life, was filled with a misery that made her heart bleed. No part of the man that she experienced her life with looked back at her, only a shell of what he used to be. “I need to say…”
She sat up, grabbed the water from the table beside her, and raised the straw to his mouth. “Here drink this, first. Please, Charles, you’re so weak.”
He swallowed the liquid and his eyes fluttered closed, as even swallowing seemed painful to do. “You’re the love of my life. The reason I breathed. Never forget that.”
Mary blinked into the present, tears falling from her eyes, landing on her knees. “I don’t know how to live without you.” The words passed easily through her lips, as if she had needed to say them for so long. “I don’t know how to go on without you being at my side.”
She had always been strong, moving forward for her children. Perhaps she hadn’t taken the time to speak of what lay in her heart, to even bare it to herself. Now her heart bled and she drowned in the agony of her loneliness.
Unable to catch her breath, she lay down, pressing herself against the damp grass, wishing it was Charles’s body beneath her. “You promised me you’d never
leave me. You promised me that I’d always be safe. That my heart was always protected. That you would never hurt me.”
Sobs ripped from deep in her chest as a reality that she’d long ignored crashed over her. “You did what you swore you would never do.” The grass was the only thing that kept her in the present, as all she wanted to do was drift away. “You broke your promise to me.”
Chapter Sixteen
The following day, in the lower level of a church in the Summerlin community, surrounded by six other women who were all sitting in a circle, Mary crossed her legs and leaned back against the plastic chair. Yesterday she had cried all evening and late into the night. First at the tree. Then in her bedroom. Finally, this morning she stopped. She couldn’t remember ever crying that hard before. The only time she recalled was the night Charles had taken his last breath.
After she woke up this morning, she felt drained, but it was as if her soul had needed to shed the sadness. Possibly, allowing herself to feel emotions she hadn’t let herself experience before. Now she was surrounded by other women who had lost their husbands, and she wasn’t even sure what had led her to the meeting today. She wondered if Elliott’s gesture had compelled her to go, almost as if his gentle pushing had guided her there.
One thing was certain: Her lake house seemed too empty this morning. She felt too alone. She didn’t want to stay there, but she had nowhere else to go. During her morning tea, she realized how good it had felt attending Elliott’s party and being with likeminded people. She wondered if she would feel the same thing now, as these women, more than anyone else, would understand what she had gone through.
She also knew she was doing this because she’d hurt Elliott. Listening to him now was the only thing she could do to make it up to him. Guilt made her body feel weak and ill, as if she had the flu. The hurt on Elliott’s face hadn’t left her mind, each day during the week those shadowed eyes haunting her.
She supposed she had come to the meeting for quite a few reasons.
A woman in her sixties, sitting in the chair across from Mary, said, “My husband died two years ago. I haven’t been able to move on. Some days it’s hard to get out of bed.”
Looking at the tired eyes of the woman, Mary’s heart ached. For so long she remembered looking at herself in the mirror and seeing those damned eyes. Eyes that belonged to a woman who had lost her second half, lost the part of her that made everything make sense.
