Never forget you

Chapter Three : The Day the World Stopped

The morning was cold and gray, a heavy mist lingering over the city as if even the sky mourned what was coming. The hospital room that had been filled with hope, with whispered prayers and silent wishes, had become a place of dread, the kind of quiet that seeped into your bones and left an emptiness behind.

Nick was there, sitting by her side, his eyes hollow with exhaustion and fear. He had barely slept since Mariah’s accident, the weight of everything pressing down on him like an unbearable burden. He had been there for every update, every test, every attempt by the doctors to bring her back. But none of it had worked, and now he sat there, his heart breaking, knowing what was coming.

The doctor came in, his face solemn, his voice gentle as he spoke. “Mr. Cannon… I’m afraid there’s nothing more we can do.” The words fell like stones, each one heavier than the last, the finality of them crushing the small hope that Nick had been clinging to.

“No…” Nick whispered, his voice cracking as he looked at Mariah, her face pale, her body still. His hand reached out, trembling, as he touched her cheek, his heart breaking. “No, please…”

The doctor gave him a moment, his eyes filled with sympathy, with the understanding of what Nick was going through. He had seen it before—the hope that lingered until the very end, the heartbreak that came when there was nothing left to do.

“We’ll give you some time,” the doctor said softly, stepping out of the room, leaving Nick alone with Mariah.

He looked at her, his tears slipping down his face, his heart shattering into a million pieces. He had failed her. He had failed their children. He had failed as a husband, as a father, as the person who was supposed to protect her. And now, she was leaving him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Please, Mariah…” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Please don’t leave me. Please don’t leave the twins. We need you. I need you.”

But there was no response, no flicker of recognition, no sign that she could hear him. She was gone, and Nick felt as if the world had been ripped out from beneath him, as if he was falling, unable to catch himself.

He sat there for hours, holding her hand, his tears falling onto her skin, his heart aching with the unbearable pain of losing her. The woman he loved, the mother of his children, the person who had been his everything—she was gone, and there was nothing he could do.

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The news spread quickly—Mariah Carey had passed away. The world seemed to stop for a moment, the realization hitting like a blow, the loss of an icon, of a legend, of a woman who had touched so many lives. The media swarmed the hospital, reporters clamoring for information, for a statement, for anything they could use to feed the frenzy that had begun.

Headlines flashed across the screens—“Mariah Carey: Gone Too Soon,” “The End of a Musical Legacy,” “A World Without Mariah.” The tributes poured in, from celebrities, from fans, from people who had been touched by her music, by her words, by her spirit. The world mourned, but the circus continued, the need for more information, more drama, more of the story that had ended in tragedy.

Nick stood outside the hospital, the flashes of cameras blinding, the questions shouted at him a blur. He couldn’t hear them, couldn’t process what they were asking. His world had ended, and all he could think of were the twins, of how he was going to tell them that their mother was gone.

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The funeral was held a week later, a private ceremony, the guest list carefully curated to keep the media at bay. It was held at a small chapel, the air filled with the scent of flowers, the atmosphere heavy with grief. The pews were filled with her family, her friends, her loved ones, all of them there to say goodbye to a woman who had meant so much.