“It’s Time To Go”
Madeline was wheeled into Mike’s room. When they entered, Mike was still sleeping – it was probably from the anaesthesia. He looked so calm. Deep within her, she felt a mixed feeling of peace, mixed with a heavy anxiety of the looming uncertainty that clouded the room.
Mustering the little courage she had, she reached out and held his hand. It was a warm feeling, one that she had not felt for the longest time – it was almost reassuring. He looked into his face and saw him waking up. He neither turned away nor pulled away his hand: he simply sank into her gaze and stayed quiet.
“I’ll leave you guys alone to talk,” remarked the nurse as she left.
Mike slowly struggled to sit up, and Madeline couldn’t help but sympathize with him. His face was still swollen and had bruises from his accident. One of his arms was in a cast, and there was a wheelchair on his side, signaling he wasn’t strong enough to move all by himself.
“Trust me Maddy, it’s not as bad as it looks.” Mike started. “The painkillers are actually doing a pretty amazing job.”
“I’m glad to hear that Mike. You know, when you said you were leaving, I didn’t imagine you were going to check yourself into the hospital.”
Mike smiled. “You and me both. But if it’s any consolation, I see you tried to follow me, and we ended up pretty much bunking in the same apartment with different rooms.”
Were it not for the pain, Mike would have pinched himself. This moment was extremely surreal. This was the most cordial and civil they had been in what felt like ages. Sadly, it literally took two life-threatening experiences to get them to this point.
“A penny for your thoughts, Maddy?” asked Mike.
Maddy couldn’t help but replay the last conversation. It had almost ended in another Romeo and Juliet tragedy…now they were here. While she was savouring this beautiful and tender moment, she felt some cold shivers and a tight knot in her stomach. She was just waiting for the worst to come, and the look on her face betrayed her worst sentiments. Overcome by a whirlwind of thoughts, she let go of Mike’s hand.
“This is about how we left things right that other night, right?” continued Mike.
“Just tell me something, Mike…you hate me, right?” asked Madeline.
“You know something Maddy, being in a life-changing experience really puts things into perspective, and to answer your question, no, I don’t hate you. I may be hurting, and I may be mad, but I do not hate you!”
Maddy felt something she hadn’t felt before – a tingle of hope. Those words cut deep, giving her a sense of closure she never knew she needed but greatly desired.
“I’m glad to hear that Mike,” she replied. “However, there is still the lingering question of where do we go from here?”
“I am honestly not sure,” Mike said. “All I know is I am physically and emotionally exhausted from all this, and the fact that you are also here means pretty much the same. I am just as much at fault for this and have made my share of mistakes, and I do not think we can ever move past this. This is because of the constant reminder. Every holiday, every family gathering… every time we see a stroller in the park, knowing…”
“…that we will never have any of our own,” Madeline finished with a tired resignation and a heavy heart.
The glimmer of hope that she felt before came crushing down just as fast. She saw the ghost of the nursery they’d painted years ago, the names they’d whispered in the dark, now just echoes in a hollow house. They had been sitting on a ticking time bomb. The timer had come off, and the impact of the detonation was great and nearly cost both of them their lives.
The realization hurt, stinging like a bitter pill to swallow, but they had now reached a crossroads, and there was nothing else left to do. It was time to dislodge the dagger of their shared loss that had once bound them together but was no longer working. It would definitely hurt, but they had to break free and be left in ruins to properly heal.
