Emma was my first everything. First love, first kiss—we lost our virginity to each other.
Our only real fight was when she told me she was leaving town.
Her parents made the choice, and we were too young to really fight it.
I dug my heels in and blamed her, which I realised later was horribly unfair. But by the time reality sank in, she was gone.
It’s not her fault I never settled down. And I didn’t do it solely because of her.
Life was just easier without the commitment.
I’m not sure that’s what I want, even now. But I do know I don’t want a life of meaningless sex—that holds no interest anymore.
Maybe it’s time to work out what I want.
That’s well overdue at the grand old age of forty-three.
I need to sort my shit out.
Two
Emma
I think he’s dead.
Sucking in a deep breath, I pick up his wrist and let his hand fall back down. There’s no resistance. His eyes don’t open.
Closing my eyes, I wait a moment, then another. I don’t want to rush—to look too anxious. I’m part terrified that he’s going to open his eyes and look at me.
But he doesn’t.
The house is quiet—the younger kids went to sleep a while ago. My eldest son, Noah, is out at work. I’m grateful because with any luck I can get the doctor in and Malcolm removed from the house before he gets back.
Noah doesn’t need to see this.
I leave the room, although I’m reluctant to turn my back in case he does wake up.
Picking up Malcolm’s mobile phone from the coffee table, I study the screen for a moment and then tap out a message.
It’s time. He fell asleep a few hours ago, and I can’t wake him.
I don’t tell the doctor who I am. He knows. This isn’t an unexpected death—it’s been coming for weeks, but I still won’t be at peace until it’s confirmed.
Closing my eyes, I lean back on the couch. Tonight I hope I’ll get the first full night’s sleep I’ve had in months. I’ve known this was coming, but not known when.
I steady my breathing. There’s still a lot of tonight left to go. Once the doctor’s been, I’ll have to call the funeral director to organise the pick up. He needs to go tonight. I don’t want the kids to see him.
The past few weeks have taken a lot out of Malcolm. He was never a big man, but he’s so thin and barely looks like himself.
Though they don’t have a lot of good memories of their father, my children deserve to remember him how he was.
I’m lost in my thoughts when a sudden tap on the door breaks me out of it.
Blowing out a long breath, I make my way to the front door and open it.
“Emma.” Our GP smiles warmly. I’ve seen more doctors these past few weeks as Malcolm’s health deteriorated faster.
“Come in, Doctor Small.”
