Last Day.

I pull the curtains back, but I am not at all prepared for what lies behind them. The love of my life is laying on a hospital bed, attached to oxygen. Tubes are attached to the heart I've fallen in love with, IVs sticking out of the arms that hold me tight. Walking over to his bed, I fight back tears; I knew it was coming...just not so quickly. He gives me a weak smile and lifts himself upright, causing a chorus of beeps from a heart monitor. A nurse quickly rushes over to adjust the bed for him. Three months ago, he was diagnosed with stage one heart cancer. He was strong; going through chemo and radiation, losing his curly brown locks in the process.. It hurts to see someone so strong, so physically weak.

His eyes start to tear up. He opens his eyes to say something, but a loud beep from a machine to our left silences him. Almost instantly, two doctors in blue scrubs rush over to us.

"Lee, he's over simulated. His heart can't handle it!," One doctor calls to the other.

"Clearly. Did he get his stabilizer yet?,"

"Of course, a double-dose with his breakfast,"

"He's a stage four..."

"Terminal?"

"Yes."

With every word the doctors say to each other, I feel more and more helpless. They talk about him and his death like it's nothing.

What if today really is his last day?

The more my mind wanders, the more I cry. If the doctors can't do anything, I sure can't. He reaches over to me and gives the tips of my fingers a tight squeeze, seeing my emotional state. I instantly feel incredibly guilty. He's dying, I need to be strong for him, not vice-versa.

The doctors finish talking. One turns to me and says, "His heart is giving up on him, there's nothing much we can do at this point."

I look over at him; his arms nothing but skin and bones, his cheeks sunken in. It's tears me apart to see him looking like he does.

"There has to be something...," I say to the doctor, tears creating rivers down my cheeks.

"His heart is working at triple the rate it should be, his body can't keep up. Eventually his heart will get tired, and it will shut down.."

"Can you give us a moment?," a soft voice says from behind us. We turn around, to see my dying lover propped up on his elbow.

"Certainly, Mr. Peters," the doctor states, walking from the room, the second trailing behind him.

Once the door is shut firmly behind the two doctors, he pulls of his oxygen mask and begins to speak.

"Promise me you'll smile.. I know it's my last day, but I want to die happy, and I won't be happy if I know you aren't. Please... Just look back at this and remember our adventures. Remember our smiles and laughs. Remember the love," he says softly, struggling to speak without the plastic mask. My tears are falling freely now.

"No! Don't talk like that, you'll pull through. You always do...," I say to him, trying to convince myself that the words I am saying are the truth.

"Just promise me...."

"I promise that I will love you forever, regardless of how you look or where we may go in life. Today is not your last day. You will go one day, but not like this! You will go a old man, who will fall asleep and wake up in paradise! You are strong, you will pull through this."

He gives me a soft smile and puts his oxygen mask back on, struggling with the strap. I rush over to adjust the elastic for him. As I do, he looks up at me.

"I love you....," he trails off, closing his eyes.

"I love you too, baby. Just close your eyes and rest. If you're going to beat cancer, you need to get your sleep."

I lean back in the hospital chair, closing my eyes. Though I immediately jump up when a large screech from the heart monitor goes off. I look over to see the red line is flat. Many people burst in at once, yelling commands to each other. I am pushed aside, though I still catch a glance of my lover; pale, frail, and dead. I catch little snippets of conversations while I am pinned against the wall of the hospital room.

"He's unresponsive."

"I'm not getting a pulse! Someone get a defibrillator!"

"Tara, take care of it."

Someone in green scrubs runs over and presses to pieces of flat metal on his chest, his body jurks upward in spasms as they try to revive his heart. I scream out, falling to my knees.

He's gone...

"Someone get her OUT OF HERE!," Someone yells.

I am ushered out of the room, but even through the door, the shouts of a doctor yelling "Call it," to his crew can be heard...