Take Care, Sara

it would. Lincoln held one hand and she the other, the two of them trying to force life into him from theirs. His parents stood behind Lincoln, his father stoic and his mother quietly weeping. There were some things that couldn’t heal, no matter how long the wrong had been committed. She knew her relationship with her husband’s parents was one of those things. Their connection was cracked beyond repair. It didn’t matter, not now.
    She looked up at the same time Lincoln did, saw him breaking on the inside though he remained impassive on the outside. It was in his eyes; his gray eyes were shattered. She had to look away before she shattered as well.
    Sara leaned forward and rested her forehead against his cool one. “I love you, Cole. I always will. Be at peace,” she whispered, teardrops falling from her eyes and landing on his expressionless face. She watched one tear trickle down his forehead and touch the corner of his eye before moving on to rest on his too prominent cheekbone. It was as though he cried as well.
    For the merest of seconds, his face was as she remembered it. The piercing blueness of his eyes, his lips lifting into a smile; it blinded her and tore her breath from her lungs like he’d sucked it away and back into himself for one stolen minute of life before all existence was gone. Sara saw him as he’d been before the wreck, and then once again, she saw him as he really was.
    The beats lessened, slowly trailing off and ending. Her breaths became quicker as his became nothing. Sara was trying to breathe enough for the both of them, but it was pointless. The countdown until he was officially pronounced dead had run its course. She was frozen, her eyes glued to his face. Move. Make a sound. Come back.
    Nothing. There was nothing.
    The monitor stopped with one terrible, never-ending beeeeeep . Sara’s entire body jerked with the pain of her heart being severed and ripped from her as the realization that he was truly gone and would never come back slammed through her. Someone unplugged the machine, a faceless being registered with her peripheral vision.
    “I’m messy and a slob and I like beer a little too much. I work long hours and I like to be outside more than inside. I’m restless and reckless, and yes, I admit, a pervert. Upon occasion. But I love you. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, Sara. Never will. I want to be with you until I take my last breath, and even when I take my last breath, I want it to be next to you. Please. Redeem my selfish soul and make it better, make me better. Say you’ll be my wife.”
    The last breath was a sigh, an unspoken final goodbye, and the world stopped. No one moved; the silence almost intolerable. The quiet was filled with pain so thick to utter a single word would destroy her, him, all of them. Sara watched him, willing him to breathe on his own, to make his heart start again, willing him to open his eyes . The minutes dragged on, the profound loss unbearable to her. Sara pressed a lingering kiss to his stiff, cold lips, saying a silent farewell. She pulled back, unable to look away from the soulless shell that no longer housed her husband. Come back. Sara knew he wouldn’t, but it didn’t stop her from wishing it anyway. He was gone. He wasn’t coming back. Never again.
    She unconsciously cried out and fell back against a desk, close to collapsing. She wanted to lie down, close her eyes, curl up in a ball, and become dust, nothing, erased . Instead Sara turned and blindly fled from the room, bumping into a nurse on her way out. Sara’s heart pounded so hard inside her chest she thought it was going to slam right through her body. She couldn’t see. She didn’t know where she was going. She only knew she had to escape.
    There was a buzzing in her ears, getting louder and louder, so loud she wanted to scream just to hear something other than it. Never again. Sara stumbled, almost falling over as a wave of pain hit her, slashing into her midsection with a knife of agony. She bent at the waist, trying to shield herself from the inward ache there was no relief from.
    “Sara!”
    Sara shoved her shoulder against the metal door that led to the stairs, jarring it at the impact. She rushed forward and swayed at the edge of the winding steps, almost tumbling down them. For an instant she contemplated letting herself go, but instead her hand reached out for the railing. Never again. A sob was torn from her lips, grating to her ears. She was