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Unable to hold Saxon’s hand, I do the next best thing and clutch my fingers around the ring between my breasts. The diamond cuts into my palm, and I welcome the pain. My breathing slows. It’s not until I attempt to move do I realize we’ve slumped onto the hard floor.
“I’m o-okay.” I’m not, but I gently break myself from Sam’s hold. He’s pale, pupils wide. I can only imagine what he walked into.
“What happened?” he asks, not bothering to move as he scoots backward and rests his back against the wall.
The memories burn a hole straight through me. “I don’t know. One minute, things were still, and the next, he was convulsing on the bed.” Fresh tears swell. I doubt they’ll ever stop.
“Lucy?” When Nora pokes her head around the door, surprised to see my current post, I shoot upward, ignoring the dizziness that threatens to knock me on my ass once again.
“How is he? What happened? Is he awake?” I say in a jumble of words. Sam makes no attempt to move. He draws his knees to his chest.
Stepping out from Saxon’s room, she takes a moment before answering. “No, he’s not. I’m so sorry, but the convulsions you saw…Saxon suffered a mild heart attack. This is not uncommon,” she goes on to add, while the blood drains from my face. “He’s stable for the moment.”
“For the moment?” I whisper. All she can do is nod.
Sam sighs, cursing under his breath. “He’s dying, isn’t he?”
I wait for her to correct him, but she doesn’t. “I really am so sorry. If it’s any consolation, he’s not in any pain.” An avalanche threatens to bury me under my grief, but now, that seems like a merciful gift from above.
Cupping both hands over my mouth, I whimper into them, hoping to mask this desolation because Sam, god, he is grieving too. “Take a walk with me?” he asks, his voice deflated, broken. I don’t see that I have a choice.
When he finds his legs, he stands, locking eyes with me. We don’t need words. This tether of anguish ties us forevermore. We walk down the hallway, resembling shadows of our former self.
Usually, the fresh air is a welcomed embrace, but now, I don’t feel anything, anything at all. I walk on autopilot, slumping into the first seat I can find. How can this be happening? Saxon’s heart is now failing him; the one thing which provided me the strength to continue.
“I’m sorry I’ve been MIA.” I nod, too drained to talk. “But there’s a reason.” He reaches into his back pocket, producing a folded letter. It’s not the one I gave him. My curiosity is piqued. My fingers rustle in the wind as I reach for it.
Opening it up, I scan the typed script, not really understanding what I’m reading until my eyes dance over the wordsPower of Attorney. “What is this?” I ask, turning the letter around in case there’s been some mistake.
But when Sam sits beside me, tapping his finger on the dotted line, the line where I’m to sign, it’s evident things are clear.
“I’ve signed over all rights for you to be Saxon’s power of attorney. It’s what he would want. It’s whatIwant,” he adds while my mouth gapes. “You said whatever I choose, I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life. Well, I can’t live knowing I was responsible for something which has always been your choice to make. YouareSaxon’s life…you always have been. And if anyone should make this decision, then it should be you.”
Some may see this as Sam’s weakness, an easy way out, but I don’t. This is the greatest gift he could ever give. This wipes the slate clean, but I suppose life was put into perspective long before this. “Thank you, Samuel.”
The next thing he produces is my undoing. “Iwouldfight for him, Lucy.” He’s acknowledging our parting words as he offers me Saxon’s letter. “That’s why I’m doing this.”
And everything falls into place around us.
We’re silent, the underlying truth lapping at the surface. Visions of Saxon thrashing around his bed, of Nora’s look of surrender, of the baby that grows inside me—I know what I should do, but how am I supposed to do this? There is no rulebook. No Saxon to be my voice of reason. Letting go of everything but this ugly agony, I confess, “How am I supposed to say goodbye to the person I love most in this world?” We don’t know anything for certain, no one does. We don’t have a crystal ball. But the truth is, once that machine is turned off, Saxon might never return.
The truth floats to the wind, making room for this emptiness to grow.
“Your memories…no one can take them away from you. Never. You remember the happy times when the bad overshadows the good.” It remains unspoken that that’s what Sam has done with us. The world keeps turning, even when on some days, we’d wish it would slow down—just for one single moment in time.
“Darling, what are you doing out here without your coat?” Sam sighs. He clearly wishes now was one of those days.
Kellie and Greg stand before me. I thought I would feel anger, maybe an act of violence approaching, but I feel nothing. It took them seven days to get here, one hundred and sixty-eight minutes—each one more precious than the one before it. I suddenly understand how Saxon feels. Sometimes, you just have to let things go.
Standing, I give Greg a hug. His rigidness amplifies his surprise. “Thanks for coming.” I don’t bother addressing Kellie.
“Of course. Sorry we didn’t come sooner.”
“That’s okay.”
Kellie is unhappy with being excluded. No surprise there. “How is he?” I’m thankful she’s spared us all the crocodile tears.
“He’s still unresponsive. And the reason Sam was out here without a coat—” I can’t keep the bite from my tone, shining a light on her superficiality “—is because Saxon just suffered a heart attack.”
