2022 WATTYS SHORTLISTED || After being forced into a marriage by her devoutly religious parents, Aspen's husband is diagnosed with a life-limiting illness, and she must find her purpose as well as fight feelings for her husband's nurse. || Aspen Wat...
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I stare at the photos I've placed and still feel they're placed all wrong. The sun is beating through the window of the hospital, and it makes a golden halo around the photo frames on the bedside table. It feels wrong to have three photos of Joel and me there right now. They felt right yesterday, but now they just feel wrong. I take it down, leaving the other two there, taunting. He deserves to have somewhat happy ones, though, just in case his words to me before he went under were a lie.
They told me visiting was between nine and eight, but most people come after ten because of the doctor's rounds. That made little sense to me when they said it, but I soon found out that they merely prefer to limit the patients, so the ward isn't crowded and noisy.
The nurses who let me out last night told me to bring music to play for him while I'm here. I overheard a few relatives playing quietly classical music for their loved ones, but the only thing I could think that would make sense for Joel was to play Fall Out Boy quietly. He hates classical music, and well, why would I play him something he hates? I'm just waiting for someone to come along and tell me off or something.
I don't get a reaction from him, though. Maybe I was expecting too much: I thought maybe a finger tap or a toe tap along. Maybe I over thought it. The only thing I get is the background music of beep, beep, pump, beep, beep, pump alongside the quiet music by his head.
The soft blue curtains irritate me. I pulled them around so the other patients and relatives wouldn't get annoyed with me, and vice versa. Plus, I know Joel wouldn't want people staring at him. The white colour of the walls and the soft blue of the curtains just clash. Why on earth would you want it so bland in here? I suppose it helps the various stickers on the walls and the equipment stand out.
"It's been two days now, Joel. They said this morning they'd try to wake you up on Friday. Today is Wednesday, so maybe you could wake up now, huh? Save everyone a job." I check my watch – two-forty in the afternoon. I've been here all morning, sat religiously like a disciple. Whatever we feel about each other, we can't say we don't support each other when we need it.
"The sun is bright today, but my word is it cold. You're not missing much. Your mum said she'd be in for four, so you'll have a new face for this afternoon. You're probably bored with me right now," I joke to myself. I know he won't be listening to me. It's highly unlikely, but it's better than sitting in this perpetual silence like a dormant volcano.
The doctor explained the other day: Joel might be able to hear us, but he won't be able to give us a sign if he is. Even after he wakes up, he might not remember hearing anything. It's an unknown until he wakes up.
This is why I need to find the right words to tell him about Gabriel now, even if he doesn't hear me. There's a chance he might.
