She opened her eyes and looked at Josh. His mouth trembled. He tried to smile, but his eyes filled. “I . . . I’m so sorry, honey,” he said, and his voice broke. He bent over and pressed his forehead to hers.
Not yet. Not yet. Oh, please, not yet. She didn’t want to do this to her husband.
Be brave, honey. Her father’s voice. Oh, thank God, he was here.
Josh. Oh, Josh. I’m so sorry.
Tears spilled out of her eyes, and he held the sides of her face, wiping her tears away even as he cried with her. Her heart swelled with sorrow and regret that she was leaving him. The love of her life. The love of her life. She lifted her hand to his hair, relishing the silkiness. Stroked his cheek before her heavy arm dropped back to her side.
I’m so sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.
“Are you in any pain?” Dr. Bennett asked.
Lauren nodded. Her chest ached, and a knifelike pain stabbed on every forced inflation. Flashes of light went off in her head like lightning strikes, searing and sharp. Her chest worked, and she could feel her breath crackling. Air hunger. Such an ugly, cruel thing.
“We’ll get you some morphine. But, Lauren, if we extubate you, the end will come pretty fast,” Dr. Bennett said, and Lauren had to give her credit, because though her eyes were shiny, she wasn’t crying outright. “You’ll have a few hours, maybe less. If we keep you on the ventilator, it’ll be more like a day, maybe three. The choice is yours.”
Well, shit. She’d give anything for another couple of days . . . but being on the ventilator also meant being unconscious. She could die that way, just slip away, pain-free.
Joshua deserved more.
“Your mom, Jen and Darius are in the waiting room,” Josh said. “Sarah’s on her way.”
She pointed to the tube and mimicked pulling it out. “You want us to extubate you?” Dr. Bennett asked, and Lauren nodded, looking into Joshua’s eyes.
I’m sorry.
After a long second, he nodded, too, and then put his hand up to his eyes.
She reached for him, her arm not quite making it, and he caught it, took her hand, kissed it, his lips staying a long time. She felt his tears drop on her skin. She squeezed back, but she was so weak, she wasn’t sure he felt it.
Though she tried not to, she fell asleep again, still holding Josh’s hand. Distantly, she was aware of more people in the room, adjusting her, moving things. The tube was pulled from her throat, and she gagged a little, getting another stab with the effort. She could hear herself gasping, her chest working hard—oh, shit, it hurt. She heard a moaning sound. Hers, she assumed.
Someone was putting something in her hand. “Just press this button when you need more pain control,” a female voice said. She pressed, and a warm wave enveloped her, making her float. Morphine. Ooh. That was nice. Her head pain went away, and her chest didn’t hurt as much, wasn’t jerking so much. Even her breathing was easier, thank God.
“Atta girl,” the nurse said, and Lauren opened her eyes and smiled.
Josh was standing right next to her, his face ruined.
“Hi,” she said, her voice a croak.
“Hi, honey.”
“I love you.” It was hard to get the words out.
“I love you, too. So much.”
The nurse adjusted her and, with such kindness, brushed her hair and washed her face gently, gave her a sip of water. “Thank you,” Lauren whispered.
“You’re welcome, honey.” The nurse dropped a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll pray for you both.” She was crying.
Nurses were the best. “Do I look . . . pretty?” Lauren asked her husband, and she managed a smile. Even her face was tired.
“Beautiful,” he answered, trying to smile back despite the tears in his eyes. “You . . . do you want me to get everyone?”
She nodded. “Then get . . . rid of them. Just . . . us.” They’d talked about this . . . Lauren didn’t want her mom and sister to witness the moment of her death. She didn’t want them to hear her last breath.
“Just us,” he said, and kissed her, his lips so warm and wonderful, then left the room.
She didn’t want Josh to suffer through this—her final minutes, maybe hours, but she knew he wouldn’t leave her. She wouldn’t leave him, if the case were reversed.
She took a hit of morphine and closed her eyes, and when she opened them, her family was there—Mom, Jen, Darius, Sarah, Stephanie, the Kims, all their faces a study of grief and fear and love.
Darius was holding Pebbles in his strong arms. He put the dog on the bed with her and put her hand on the dog’s head. Poor Pebbles. I’m sorry, honey, Lauren thought. Her dog. Her friend through all this. Pebbles’s tail wagged, but she stayed still, as if she knew her job.
“I love . . . you all,” Lauren said, gasping a little, her voice weird from the days of intubation. “Be . . . happy . . .” She couldn’t finish.
“She wants you to be happy when you remember her,” Josh said, his voice low and calm, his words exactly right.
“Be at peace, darling girl,” Ben said, leaning in to hug her. He was crying.
“Take care . . . of him.”
“I will. I always have.”
Lauren nodded and managed a smile. Sumi was next, crying too hard to speak, but she held Lauren’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead.
“Goodbye, beautiful,” Darius said, hugging her, and she managed to pat his cheek. “I’ll take care of them, don’t worry.” He had such lovely eyes, even when they were streaming tears. He kissed her hand and moved aside for Stephanie.
“Thank . . . you for . . . raising him,” Lauren said, her words barely a breath. Her mother-in-law kissed her on both cheeks and her forehead.
“I’m so glad you married my son,” she said, and it was so generous, so kind, that tears spilled out of Lauren’s eyes. “God bless you, angel.”
Then it was Sarah, next in this awful, beautiful line of her people, her family, her best friend. “You did so good,” Sarah said. “I love you. I’ll miss you so much.” Her face was scrunched with crying.
“Love . . . you.”
Sarah hugged her, jerking with sobs, then kissed her cheek, and then it was her mom’s turn.
Oh, Mommy. Poor Mom.
Her mother bent over her and held Lauren’s face in her hands. “I love you, baby. I love you. Daddy will be with you. Don’t be scared.” Her voice was surprisingly strong, and Lauren was so glad. She sounded like her old self, before Dad died, the impressive mother who always knew the answers.