The Shadow of Love

When you know, you know. That’s what they always say. Bill knew, maybe not from the moment he met her, maybe not for quite a while, but Bill knew. Lynn, she was the girl of his dreams, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The one he wanted to wake up next to. The one he wanted to lay down with at three o’clock for a nap, after fifteen years, with autumn’s melancholy sunlight falling across her pale skin. It was her. Her or nothing. Her or no one. He needed her. He wanted her. He got her. After spending the summer nursing a quickly budding romance, the two were hopelessly in love. Bill was a lovesick wreck, lost in the beautiful, blue grey eyes of his tangible dream. After only four short months of romance, the nineteen-year-old college student approached not only his dream girl at this point, but the one he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, to be the love of his life, and asked her to marry him. Without hesitation she agreed. Everything was perfect, everything was right. They moved in together. They fell more in love every day, and could barely keep their eyes, or hands, off each other. Finally, Bill got his three o’clock nap, it was an afternoon in the early fall, and the light was shining into their bedroom window, falling softly on the small electric piano he used from time to time. On it was the sheet music for “Believe” by the Beatles. The tune was as melancholy as the afternoon light when he played it on his piano, and whenever he played it his heart squirmed and fluttered as he thought of Lynn. She woke up first, as she often did. Instead of waking him, she watched him sleep, as she always did, quietly smiling at the peaceful look he had on his face. Finally, she gently shook him to try and wake him.

“Hey baby, wake up,” she said smiling.

“Urghmmm. Whaat?”

She giggled, “I have to go mail the invitations. Do you want to come?

“Ugghhhh. Okayyy,” he groaned, rolling over slightly, eyes still closed.

“No. No you go back to sleep, you’re tired. I’ll take care of it honey.”

“Lynn. I’m no fool, close as I may get when returning to consciousness. Obviously, I’m wanted. Otherwise, I can think of around zero reasons why I would have to be woken up for this.”

His retort was intended light heartedly, but the look that rolled over her face, disappearing nearly before even showing up, had been one he would never forget. Slightly offended, as if unsure how she should take his thoughtless remark. Stung, that he hadn’t jumped at the opportunity to spend time with her. Hurt, that maybe sometimes, she wouldn’t always come first. Then shoved the feeling away as quickly as she’d hidden the face, and replaced both with her beautiful smile. He returned it in the form of a cute, just waking up smile, and he fooled her, and even, for a while at least, himself, into believing he’d never seen the look at all.

“You’d better go back to bed fast, before I find something to do with you!” she scolded, while simultaneously, she smiled at him and quickly winked, looking down at him.

“Mmm! No!” he rolled away playfully. But then he stayed there. The look clouded her face again. But she pushed it away once more. He was tired. It’d be okay. She’d be back soon, he’d be up, and this would be quickly forgotten. She left the bed and walked to the doorway, stopped, came back to the bed, and kissed him deeply.

“See you soon,” she said.

His eyes stayed closed, and his voice began to soften as sleep began to take him, but a smile played on his lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He finally forced himself to wake up, frowning when he saw it was five o’clock. He wondered why Lynn hadn’t come back yet, and got the sick feeling all new lovers get when faced with the absence of their significant other for more than a few minutes. He wanted to see her. To touch her. Why was she taking so long? He called her phone. Off. Of course. He sat down at the piano, and played around a little on the keys, playing nothing in particular. After a moment of silence, he played “Believe”. It was then he began to get worried. Halfway through playing the song again, the phone rang. It was the hospital. The first thing that came to mind when he walked into the room was that it was a good thing, the last thing she had said to him before she left was “I love you”. At that dark thought, tears instantly streamed, down his cheeks, onto the cold hospital floor. His head rolled to hang back over his neck, and his hands quickly met it, covering his face until he could face the sight like the man he needed to be. Right now. He sat next to her, leaning as close as possible, holding her hand as firmly as he dared and as gently as possible, for she seemed as delicate as a fallen leaf. It was now. Now or nothing. Now or never. She needed this. Neither wanted this. Neither got their wish. Tubes stuck out of her mouth, keeping her from speaking. All she could do was stare at him, desperately, longingly, sorrowfully, regretfully, and other emotions so confusing and unreadable they passed him by same as earlier, as she continued to stare, just as she’d done earlier. He could do less, thinking only to whisper the meaningless words of any imbecile talking to someone, who they knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, was going to end up anything but alright. Tears. Tubes. Tests. Thoughts, followed closely by whispers, secret things, things not from his own mind, but things he would always be grateful for, since he’d had the words to say to her in the end. And then, the line. He stared at the heart rate monitor, stunned, despite the predictability of the situation, then twirled back faster than he’d believed he could move. He’d gotten half of the world ‘love’ out when he realized what was missing. Her eyes were grey now, and his heart was gone. He sat and stared at her for a while, frowning, thinking that there must be some simple solution, she had a cold, the heart monitor had gone bad, the end of the world was causing strange electrical currents to set off alarms, anything that would be easier to understand than the concept of her being gone. Finally, they came and turned the monitor off, and when they did, he looked up expectantly, waiting for them to explain the current apocalypse, however they simply turned off the monitor, and said they were sorry, then walking out to watch some unlucky bastard lose his life, and then hold her in his arms. Sorry for what? All he remembered was the green line, running straight across his eyes. Straight through his heart. What was it she had said? I love you? Why hadn’t she said it again? And again? I love you, too? Had that been her or him? Did it matter? Did he? Did anything? She had. She was gone.