The Love of Lady Dimitrescu X Female Reader || One-Shots

Until the End

Every day was a downward spiral. It was the same old routine. You awoke with hip and back pain. Arthritis continued to attack your joints relentlessly as you made the bed each morning. Then getting ready in the bathroom took even longer for you. Brushing your teeth, showering safely without falling, and fixing up your thinning hair only reminded you of how fast time flies.

Despite your aging body's aches and how tired you were, you considered yourself fortunate. Fortunate because you still lived in your home, which you could maintain with the support of your daughters. Now fully grown adults, Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela swung by whenever they could to help you with tasks such as cleaning the house, cooking meals, helping you with yard work, or assisting you with unfinished projects. You were most grateful for your girls during this trying time. Their physical and emotional support was paramount for you.

There was an unvarying routine you had to abide by. A routine you had to uphold because your wife needed you, even though she didn't recognize you most days. Today would be no different.

You went into the kitchen to start your coffeemaker. While you were pulling out your wife's favorite mug and yours, you lost your grip on your brown ceramic mug. It hit the counter first before it fell to the floor. When it crashed, pieces shot in every direction across your marble mosaic floor.

You groaned. "Ah, damn." Carefully, you bent down. The pain flared in your knees as you scooped up the larger shards one at a time. You had to hurry because you feared your wife would come in and step on one. After you picked up another piece near the stainless trashcan, you planned to grab your vacuum.

"Is everything okay? I heard something crash?"

You dumped your handful of fragments into the trash before you turned around to acknowledge your sweet companion. She was standing in the kitchen doorway with a puzzled expression.

Smiling softly at her, you spoke in a mellow tone. "Good morning. Yes, everything is fine. Clumsy me. I dropped a mug, that's all. Hey, I'm about to make some fresh coffee, do you want any?" You knew her too well for her to decline such an offer. She always wanted her coffee no matter what, and better yet, you made it just the way she liked it.

She didn't return your smile. Instead, she nodded her head rather stiffly. "Yes. That would be nice." Then she headed off down the hallway to retreat to her study room. The only place in the house that she felt most comfortable in.

Over the past few years, you had observed Alcina's disorientation and confusion.

It began when she started misplacing her items on a frequent basis, like her car keys, journal, and wallet. The first time you really noticed something was wrong was when she forgot what street she lived on during one of her walks with you. Then shortly after that, your poor wife forgot your birthday, which was extremely unlike her. Alcina had always planned your birthday in advance by making dinner reservations or throwing you a surprise party with the help of her daughters. It seemed as if it had been too long since you had celebrated any birthday with your family. Those wonderful memories were in the past. Admittedly, a part of you clung to them because you didn't want to face the grim reality of your wife not knowing who you were.

To make matters easier on Alcina, you told her you were her "caregiver" who lived with her. Being the stubborn woman that she was, Alcina often insisted that she didn't require your help, as she was quite capable of doing things on her own. Although you comprehended her desire to be independent, you knew you could not leave her alone. The last thing you wanted was for your wife to end up in an assisted living facility because of her progressive dementia.

As long as you were around, you intended to take care of your spouse. Besides, you could not bear the thought of being separated from the person who, along with your daughters, completed you. She was your heart's lifeline. The woman you had madly fallen in love with and then married. She was the only one for you, even if she was unable to remember that.