But for the rise and fall of his chest.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
The blood didn’t have a chance to dry on his face. It continued to flow.
“Yoss,” I said a little louder.
I knew.
Iknew.
“Yoss!”
The scream tore from somewhere deep inside of me. From the part of me that had only just come out of the dark.
No.
He didn’t open his eyes.
I knew.
I called nine-one-one. Yoss was rushed to the hospital. Again.
“He has cerebral edema. He’s in a coma from the intracranial pressure. He needs a transplant and needs one fast,” Dr. Howell told me.
“Will he get one?” I asked, not caring how panicked I sounded. Hysterical. I was going to lose it.
“He’s been pushed up on the list. We’re waiting to see if one becomes available. For now we wait. We keep him here. And if you’re the praying sort, do that too,” Dr. Howell said kindly, clasping my shoulder.
Wait…
I was used to waiting for Yoss.
In the rain. Beside his hospital bed.
Waiting for our happily ever after.
A life together that seemed destined to be cut short.
“I heard you were here,” Lee said, finding me in the hallway of the ICU trying to get a cup of coffee from the vending machine.
“You found me,” I muttered, banging the side when my coffee didn’t come quick enough.
Lee put his hands over mine, pulling me into a hug. He held me while trembled. I couldn’t stop.
“I should have known we’d never last,” I said, staring at the wall. Seeing nothing.
“Don’t give up too soon, Im. You’ve waited fifteen years, you can hang in there a little while longer,” Lee chided me.
“It hurts,” I sobbed, clutching Lee’s shirt as the tears fell.
“It’s supposed to, babe. Loving someone isn’t easy. This is you remember how to feel,” Lee murmured as he stroked my hair.
I drove down to the Seventh Street Bridge at sunset.
The sky was bleeding and the air was starting to take on the warmth of approaching summer.
The fires had been lit and people milled about the crumbling concrete and colorful graffiti.
