Take Care, Sara

that be?
    “You have to say goodbye now. It’s the only way you’ll be able to move on. It’s time for you to move on.”
    “I just…I just want to see your blue eyes, just one last time. Please,” she whispered brokenly, hot tears of sorrow making jagged tracks down her cheeks. “ Cole .”
    Whatever had been keeping her together, sheer will maybe, finally abandoned her when his name fell from her lips. It was the first time she’d spoken it since the accident. It was real. Saying his name made it real. It hurt so much. A sob left her, broken and weak; like Sara. She hung her head as the tears made a river out of her face, her throat painfully tight. Sara wrapped her arms around herself, pretending they were his.
    She couldn’t do this. How could she do this? He was her husband, her love. He was her life. Sara couldn’t say goodbye; she refused to say goodbye. Her shoulders shook and she held her head between her hands, trying to hide from the terrible act she’d set into motion with a signature.
    The air shifted behind her and two arms overlapped hers, warm and strong and alive, and for a second, she let herself pretend they were his. Sara turned into the embrace with her eyes closed, not wanting reality to creep back in yet, inhaling his citrus scent, and just like that, the spell was broken. She opened her eyes, moving away from Lincoln and closer to him.
    An unknown emotion flickered in Lincoln’s eyes. “Dr. Henderson and the nurses are ready, Sara. They’re waiting outside.”
    Resignation and defeat warred with a hopeless faith that maybe he’d come back to her. He’d open his eyes and be miraculously healed in all ways. He’d be hers again. Sara took his cold hand in hers and brought it to her lips, softly kissing the stiff fingers, her tears falling to his hand. I need magic tears to bring you back to life, Cole. You’ve been sleeping so long and all I wanted was for you to wake up. Why wouldn’t you wake up for me? Why wasn’t I enough to bring you back?
    Lincoln was on the other side of him, blank-faced as he stared down at the shell that was now his brother. “It’s not him, Sara,” he said in a raspy voice, eyes downcast. “He left a long time ago. This isn’t him. This is a way for us to say goodbye.”
    “But you said—“
    “Forget what I said. I was pissed. I mean, I meant it, don’t get me wrong, but…I’m choosing to believe this.” He inhaled deeply and lifted red-rimmed eyes to hers. “From this day on I’m choosing to believe he held on for this, for us to come to terms with everything, for us to be able to let him go. And I don’t care what you think or say, what anyone else thinks or says. This is what I know to be true. This is my truth.”
    She felt her face crumple and her vision blurred with tears. Lincoln’s expression turned pained and he rapidly blinked his eyes, swiping an arm across his face. She’d done this. She’d taken Lincoln’s brother from him. Now she was taking him away again, for the last time.
    “Don’t you look at me like that,” he warned in a menacing tone.
    Sara looked down, unable to speak.
    “I’m sick of you blaming yourself for something out of your control. This is what we’re gonna do now. We’re going to respectfully say our goodbyes to my brother and your husband. There’s no room for guilt in this room, not today. You got that, Sara? You take all that guilt and you shove it away. I mean it.” As if he thought he could will the culpability away, Lincoln glared at her, tight-lipped and stony.
    To be so sure of something, to have such faith when you had no reason to; Sara envied that about Lincoln. She inhaled deeply, briefly closing her eyes. Be strong. If you can’t be strong for you, be strong for Lincoln. Lie to him without saying a word. Sara opened her eyes and gave a stiff nod just as a knock came at the door.
    ***
    It was all so anticlimactic. Sara didn’t know what she’d expected, but it hadn’t been the quiet, somberness of all those around her as the mask was removed from his face. She stared down at him, not recognizing the still being on the bed as her husband. Maybe Lincoln was right. Maybe he had left a long time ago. The doctor and nursing staff were silent and still; this was just another regrettable task they were designated to perform within the course of their workday.
    His heartbeat didn’t quicken like she’d hoped. His chest didn’t continue to lift up and down as she’d told herself