Love In Twenty And Five

DAY ELEVEN AND TWELVE

Several thoughts raced through Mike's mind, as he made his way through the halls of the hospital that evening. He thought of Eden and past few hours they spent together. They had been hours he had wanted to put a pause on, hours he had been reluctant to have come to an end. At the same time, he thought of Nate and of Grace. He thought of the situation Grace now found herself stuck in, and it was familiar to him. He understood the feeling of helplessness, and he understood the frustration that came along with it.

He reached Nate's ward, but the room was empty. Confused, a slight frown settled on his face as he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Grace's number.

“Mike?” Her voice was barely audible and he could tell she had been crying.

“Hey, I'm here, and you're not, neither is Nate.”

“I- uh-” She sniffed. “I'm on the fifth floor, in the chapel.”

“Okay, wait right there.” He tucked the phone back in his pocket and hurried over to the elevator.

It must have taken only a few minutes to get to the chapel, but it seemed like hours, with anxiety rapidly racing through his veins. When he finally walked into the chapel, he found Grace sitting in one of the pews with her back to him. Her head was slightly tilted upward, and he guessed that her eyes were closed. She was most likely praying, he thought, walking into the dimly lit room, with his eyes fixed on the wooden cross that hung above altar.

He tore his eyes off of the cross and slipped into the pew beside her. She didn't speak, or turn to acknowledge him. He had been right; her eyes were indeed closed. Her breathing was shallow, and her hands were clasped before her in a prayer stance. Her pale face was tilted upwards, and her lips were clamped shut.

Mike sat silently beside her, unsure of what was expected of him. He couldn't speak for he didn't have the words to comfort her. He couldn't pull her into his arms, for she seemed content to just sit there and pray. What was he going to say to a mother about to lose her kid? What was he going to do to ease the pain? He couldn't promise the pain would get better. He couldn't tell her that after a year, she would hurt less. He couldn't tell her that life would begin to make sense at some point. He couldn't tell her she would one day forget her little boy's face... Or his voice... Or the sound of his laughter... Or the cute wrinkling of the nose when he was upset. She would never forget the feeling of his tiny arms trying to wrap themselves around her. She'd never forget his eyes.

She would never forget...

And eventually, the memories would become burdensome, they would pull her down and rip her apart until she would be unable to do anything to be rid of them, and until death became the only way out.

“The doctors had to move him to the intensive care unit. He slipped into a coma,” Grace finally said, breaking the silence between them.

He turned to her. She sat still, her eyes still closed and her head still tilted up. “I'm sorry.” The words drifted from his lips.

She shook her head. “It feels like someone has reached into my soul and is ripping it into so many, many, tiny shreds and some of those pieces have gone missing, and I'll never be fixed.”

Glancing down, he fought against his emotions that threatened to choke him as the silence built between them.

“Maddie,” he whispered after a few seconds, turning his attention from his trembling fingers to the wooden cross. “Her name was Maddie and she was four. She was the most fabulous four year old I have ever seen.” He let out a mirthless laugh. “She had the brightest eyes. Smart kid. Smart, beautiful kid. She was my world after Sarah died trying to bring her into the world. She was my compensation for losing my wife.” Tears slowly slipped down his cheeks, as he acknowledged the pain for the first time in months. Ignoring the pain and trying to drown it with alcohol didn't make it better, but acknowledging it made it feel worse. “Then cancer came and turned my world upside down until it threw her out of it.”