3

Kathryn saw car accidents before from a distance, the mangled masses of metal, but never the human aftermath. What was in the bed in front of her, this human wreck, could not possibly be her husband.

Robert’s eyes were swollen shut and ringed with purple, jagged stiches lining his forehead. His head was shaved. A tube protruded from a hole in his head and a second tube exited from his mouth. Wires streamed from both arms. A neck brace cradled his head, and a cast encircled his arm. Kathryn stood immobilized at his feet, but Anne rushed right to his side and grabbed his hand. Kathryn held fast to the rail of the bed, not sure if she could stand on her own.

A few minutes later, a figure appeared in the doorway, and Anne ran over. “Mom!” Anne’s husband followed the women into the room.

Eileen grabbed Anne in a fierce hug. She released Anne, and then turned her attention to Kathryn. “Katie, come here.” Kathryn allowed herself to be swallowed in her mother-in-law’s arms.

“Eileen, I’m so glad you’re here.” Kathryn’s voice was thick. A hand touched her shoulder. She turned and met Mark’s gaze. Lines creased his forehead. He patted her shoulder gently and moved toward Robert.

Kathryn returned to the foot of the bed, taking in the scene. Mark placed one hand on Robert’s head and prayed silently. Anne took his hand and clasped her mother’s in the other. Eileen held out her hand for Kathryn, but she stayed out of reach. Where were the doctors? Why wasn’t anyone doing anything but praying?

A nurse came hurrying in, brow furrowed. “Only two visitors. Hospital rules.” She shooed them away from the bed.

Mark turned to Kathryn. “We’ll be in the waiting room praying. You stay with him.”

Kathryn nodded.

When everyone else left, the room started to spin. Her strong, independent husband lay in a helpless state. Maybe the praying thing wasn’t such a bad idea. Not that she’d know what to say.

She studied the expression on his swollen face. After standing there for several minutes, unsure of what to do, she moved closer and squeezed his hand.

“Hey, Robert.” Her voice was low, strained. “You’ve had a rough night.” She swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I haven’t been honest with you. I’m trying to make up for it, though. I’ll try to be a better wife, if you’ll let me. You’ll need to come out of this, though.” She brushed his cheek with her fingertips. “You’ve got your whole family out there praying for you. Seems like they think you could use a little help from above.” Her throat caught. She pulled a chair next to the bed and squeezed his hand again.

His eyes flickered open, met hers, and his expression relaxed.

The depths of his eyes reflected the man who loved her, who was her constant companion. She could read the story of their years together in those eyes. He’d given her everything. She hadn’t returned the favor.

“I’m sorry, Robert. I do love you. You deserve so much better.”

His eyes closed, his hand slipped from hers, and a cacophony of alarms sounded.

Kathryn was shoved aside as doctors and nurses swarmed the bed. Huddled in the corner, she watched as one scrub-clad man started CPR and another injected something into the tube in Robert’s arm. Time lost all meaning. They shouted at one another—medical terms that meant nothing to Kathryn. Nothing until they stepped away. The constant buzz of activity ended. No one reached out to Robert anymore.

The man who performed CPR stripped his gloves and wiped his forehead. The only sound in the room was the buzz of the flatline. Until…

“Time of death…1:19 am.”

The words slammed her with physical force. She rushed out and stumbled into the waiting arms of Robert’s family. Robert’s sister, Robert’s brother-in-law, Robert’s mother.

His family, not hers. She had no connection to them anymore. Eileen and Anne hung on to each other, silent tears running down their faces.

Kathryn should cry, wanted to cry, but she stood, trembling. Her heart raced and her palms sweated. She pressed her fingertips to her temples and forced herself to slow her breathing.

Mark touched her arm. “Katie, stay at our house tonight. You shouldn’t be alone.”

Kathryn turned toward him. “But that’s what I am now. Alone.”

~*~

Finally, back at home, with the last vestiges of the night drifting away, Kathryn leaned against her front door. “God, why? Why did You take Robert?” She shook her head. If there was a God, He wasn’t listening to her. She dragged herself up the stairs and stood in the bedroom door, staring at the immaculate room. The covers stretched tight across the bed, neatly tucked in at the corners. The laundry basket stood empty. In the summers, Robert took care of everything. The perks of marrying a teacher.

Kathryn peeled off her clothes and let them drop to the floor. When her pants hit the ground with a thunk, she dug in her pocket. The pills. She threw the pack across the room, where they crashed into the dresser. If she’d only done what Robert wanted, their last conversation wouldn’t have been a fight. Maybe he would’ve stayed home tonight…

The realization hit her so hard she almost staggered. If she wasn’t taking them, where would she be now? A single mom? No way.

She grabbed a T-shirt from the dresser drawer and sank into the bed. Exhaustion overcame her, but sleep did not come. The numbers on the clock mocked her. When the blessed relief of sleep finally enveloped her, it was plagued with images of men from her past, car crashes, and Robert’s disfigured form.

She awoke to sunlight streaming through the windows. Before she even opened her eyes, it hit her. He was gone.

She untangled herself from the sheets, crawled out of bed, and headed into the bathroom. Standing before the sink, she made the mistake of glancing into the mirror. Her eyes peered back at her, lifeless, nearly hidden above the swollen purple crescents underneath. She splashed water on her face, cursed at her reflection, and headed downstairs. The house was quiet. Too quiet.

Robert’s note still sat on the kitchen counter. Kathryn grabbed it and crumpled it into a ball. About to throw it in the trash, she stopped in her tracks, and smoothed the note out, reading it again.

This was the last note she’d ever get from him.

He deserved better. If he weren’t so religious, maybe he would’ve left years ago. Well, he’d promised till death do us part. He kept his end of the bargain.