Stay (Disasters In Love: Book 1.5) (SLOW UPDATES)

Chapter 2

Kat
July 3, 2005

*

Same day

*

After stopping at the nurses' station for directions, a short, dark haired nurse wis given the task of leading us back to Ben's room. It consists of her walking to the end of the hall and pointing, while grumbling the entire way about youngsters not understanding basic hospital etiquette. She also expresses her annoyance with people who think they own the place just because they're rich.

I'm pretty sure the last one isn't directed at me though.

Neither guy seem to notice her complaints, so I do my best to ignore them as well. All I care about is Ben.

Please let him be okay.

Reaching Ben's room took less time than I thought. Crap. I'm not ready for this. I slow my pace, trying to plan my exit strategy.

I'm not ready.
I'm not ready.
I'm so not ready.

Cole's arm tightens around my shoulders, as he senses my hesitation, but he doesn't stop walking or release me. He doesn't let me run away.

I'm sure later I will thank him for this, but right now... well, right now, I just want to run until my legs fall off.

I take a deep breath as Cole urges me through the door.

As I step towards Ben's bed, I'm immediately reminded of standing next to my mom's hospital bed, waiting for her life to slip away. I feel my heart pounding erratically in my chest as I relive the worst experience of my life.

I hardly recognize the frail body lying in front of me, I've never seen someone so strong look so weak, so fragile. The monitors beep and groan, straining to provide life. I've never been so grateful for a machine before.

Working up my courage, I walk over to the chair that has been positioned at the head of the bed. I don't want to think about the reason behind that. I don't want to think about who might have moved it there, who else might be suffering.

Right now I want to be selfish, I just want to focus on my own pain. I can't handle anyone else's right now.

I want to focus on what this loss will mean to me, the future we will miss out on.

Backing up to sit, I don't dare look away, for fear I might miss the slightest movement. I nearly miss the chair and land awkwardly on the arm rest. I try not to react, knowing the pain I feel is insignificant compared to the suffering taking place in front of me.

I hear the doctor's voice in my head, on a loop. "There's a 3% chance." Is that all? It's not much more hope than winning the lottery.

I'm only allowed three percent of hope? Is that really all? Three seems so small, so insignificant.

How can I dare to think about a future, a world with the person I love in it with only three percent?

I grab the cold hand lying in front of me, pulling it to my face. It used to hold so much warmth, but now...

I can't even finish that thought. When did life become so hard? I can't imagine the end... I just can't.