Me and Your Ghost

1

I crashed through the white door, my heart pounding against my ribcage as the nurses' shouts and angry reprimands faded behind me. My focus was singular: Delilah. The sterile, humming linoleum floors blurred as I raced down the hallway, desperately scanning for the room number. My breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a painful reminder of the urgency that drove me forward.

As the room number finally came into view, my desperation took over. I nearly wrenched the door off its hinges in my haste to get inside. Stumbling into the room, I was met with a sight that shattered my heart: Delilah was lying on the hospital bed, a maze of wires and tubes obscuring her frail form. The beeping of the heart monitor seemed deafening, each beep a jarring reminder of the reality I was trying to deny.

I reached her side and took her hand in mine, my own trembling with fear. The warmth of her hand, though weak, was a small comfort amidst the coldness of the hospital room. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at me with a mixture of pain and love.

"Sam?" Her voice was barely a whisper, strained and fragile.

"I'm right here, Lilah. I'm right here, my love," I responded, my voice breaking as I tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to overflow.

"Sam..." Her voice faltered, "I'm not gonna make it through this."

My heart felt like it had dropped into my stomach. "No, Delilah, don't say that. You're going to make it through this, you have to."

"Sam, even if I do, I'm never going to be the same. My body is mangled under this blanket. They'll have to amputate me." Her words came out in a frail, almost resigned tone.

"No, baby, don't say that. You're going to be okay," I pleaded, my voice cracking.

"Sam," she tightened her grip on my hand, her eyes brimming with tears, "I love you."

"I love you too, Delilah. But you can't talk like this. You're going to make it through this. I'll be right here, my love." My vision was blurring with unshed tears, the thought of losing her overwhelming my senses.

"Sam, you're gonna be alright. You're strong, honey. You'll get through it. You'll find someone new to love," she said, her voice filled with a painful mixture of sadness and concern.

"Delilah, I don't want to love another. I want you. I want the plans we made, the memories we promised each other."

"Sam... will you make sure they bury me in my pink dress? The one you always said made me sparkle?"

"Delilah..." My voice cracked as I struggled to hold back my grief.

"And I want them to put glitter on my eyes," she added softly, her voice barely audible.

"Delilah, stop talking like this, please," I begged, my heart aching with every word she spoke.

"Sam... ask if they can cremate part of me. I want you to put the ashes in a ring. I want to be with you forever, even if we never got married," she coughed, her body shivering with the effort.

"Delilah, please, I can't do this alone. I can't live without you."

"I'll be right there with you, my love. Everything is going to be okay," she assured me, her smile still bright despite the tears that streaked down her face.

At that moment, the door opened, and a doctor stepped in, accompanied by a very angry nurse. "Sir, you can't be in here. She isn't having any visitors at the moment," the doctor said, his tone authoritative but not unkind.

"Sir, please let him stay," Delilah pleaded, her eyes pleading as she turned her head towards the doctor. "I don't want to die without him here with me."

"What are you talking about?" the doctor began, but Delilah cut him off with a strained yet determined voice.

"I'm not going to make it through this. Please, let me have my lover with me."

The doctor's gaze shifted between Delilah and me, the desperation in her eyes seemingly compelling him. After a moment, he nodded curtly and left the room, the nurse trailing behind him, her disapproval still palpable.

"Delilah... I love you," I whispered through my tears. "I need you."

"I'll always be there for you," she said softly, her smile unwavering despite the pain.

"Delilah, I'm so sorry I couldn't save you. You know I'd trade my life for yours if I could."

"I know, my love," she said, her grip on my hand tightening even as her strength waned. "But we can't change what's happened. What's done is done. We have to accept our fate."

"Delilah, please try to hold on. I can't bear to be without you."

"You're going to be okay, Sam. I promise you," she whispered, her voice growing weaker.

The heaviness in my chest was unbearable. I knew the outcome was inevitable. Her final request broke me even more.

"Promise me you'll be there for me, when it's my turn?" I asked, her voice barely audible.

"Of course, my love. I'll be waiting for you," she promised, her voice trembling.

Her chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, the beeping of the monitor now a constant, monotonous sound. "Sam, come lay with me one last time?" she asked.

"Of course, my dear." I stood from the chair and gently climbed into the bed beside her, careful not to disturb the tubes and wires. I wrapped my arms around her fragile body, holding her close to my chest. I took in every sensation: the faint warmth of her skin, the sparkle in her eyes, the delicate scent of vanilla that lingered on her.

I kissed the top of her head repeatedly, trying to memorize the softness of her hair. "Sam..." she began, her voice barely more than a whisper, "I know you don't want to hear this, but I want to make sure I say it before I go. It's okay if you find someone new to love. I want you to be happy. I want you to know that I say it's okay."

The weight of her words crushed me. The thought of loving anyone else felt impossible when the girl of my dreams was right here beside me.

She tilted her head up to face me, her face puffy from tears but still beautiful. The freckles on her cheeks seemed like constellations, and her brown eyes sparkled with gold flecks. Despite the pain, she wore a gentle smile.

She always had a smile on her face. Even in the worst of times. She would always find the good, even her last few minutes of life she was smiling. She wasn't afraid of death. She never had been, but she was afraid of leaving me, and she didn't want to show it.

"Kiss me one last time before I go?" she pleaded softly.

"Absolutely, my love." I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers. Her soft lips were a bittersweet reminder of everything I was losing. I could feel her spark fading, though she fought to hold on.

"I'm going to miss you," I whispered.

"Don't be sad," she replied softly, "I'm going to miss you too, but I don't want our last moments to be remembered as sad."

I nodded, unable to find words as my heart shattered.

"I will never stop loving you, Delilah," I promised, my voice choked with emotion.

"I know," she whispered, her voice faltering. "I will always love you, Sam. Always."

I held her close, trying to absorb every last moment. The beeping of the monitor grew slower, then steadier, until it eventually became a single, unwavering tone. Her chest no longer rose, and the warmth I had clung to was fading. I held her, unwilling to let go, as the finality of the moment settled in.