Alfonso's Bride

Gags- 15

Alfonso drew out a paper, a will for her to read. She trembled as she started to read the will. He lay, now peacefully, back on the bed as if nothing had happened. His body was curled as he faced into the ceiling. His stone blue eyes gazed into space and there were dark patches on his head now, navy blue patches on his pale bald head. She had not noticed them with the beanie he kept on. It seemed as if the dark patches were now protruding to his face covering one of his temples like a birthmark. She walked from him to sit on the armchair next to the bed.

Could he not get leukemia or a brain tumor or something? What was Clatercynclosis really?

She still had the will in her hand when she realised she had not read it. She looked at the wobble scribble that threatened to crumble and tried to make out the words.

"The estate, my shares on Mine CDK and gratitude all are left under the care and guard of Helena McAfee."

She dropped the paper, that made enough sense. That was comprehensive. It was enough to break her heart.

"Why...?"

"I cried for you. I cried when I last saw you, I was only eight and you were three. I was intrigued by everything you did...laughed... ran around... and enjoyed life like there was no tomorrow. I asked mother to..." He broke into a crescendo of a pained cough, dry as if his lungs would pull apart before being able to finish his sentence. It was a frenzy that drove him into a tremble like a reed in a torrential river.

His chest tore apart with the quake of every cough. His lips dark and dry seemed as if they would crack under the invisible weight of the wrecked spasm of coughs. They were driving him, controlling him, push and pulling him mercilessly. He was shaking and the cough was shaking him. This was bad. This was too bad. He worked hard on that one minute trying to clear his throat. Trying to clear his lungs.

When he came to be a pool of tears had formed in his eyes ready to spill out and temper with his pride. It was not the pain nor the fear that brought the tears but it was rather the amount of effort he tried to put to resist the tearing of his chest.

Helena held his head up resting it on her breast to try and calm him down as he grabbed the hem of her night gown subconsciously and fisted it painfully. He let out a ragged exhale and let go of her dress shyly.

"Tomorrow is your third week, what will you be doing on your anniversary sir?"

It surprised him how sick he had turned in a matter of few hours. Just yesterday evening he was fine and now he was a charity case.

"Dying..." She had lost him again- no, he was just joking. "I asked mother to take you with us but it was impossible, you had your life and I had mine," Helena was confused for a while but quickly got back on track. He was back to the past. "I wished with every tooth that came from my mouth to have you. It didn't happen till the wedding day. When you came in... At the wedding, it struck me- the wish. So when I wrote the will I figured I was comfortable with leaving all my possessions in your custody... a wish come true. You are a wish come true, Helen. An innocent childhood wish come true."

"I can't remember any of it." Helena started to melt the awkward atmosphere in the room and Alfonso chuckled.

"You loved me. You would whimper to be with me. Picked sand from the ocean and gave it to me..." He sighed. He was tired, he had talked a lot. He had talked a whole lot- now he was overworked.

"You would gather sea shells and present them to me... I loved them all. You wanted to hear me say I loved them and that would send you ecstatic." He rasped and Helena grabbed the blanket in a fist spreading her hand across his torso as she lay her head on his abdomen.