LoveSexDeath Eternity

Charly

LoveSexDeath

Eternity

Author and cover designer: Tiffany Brophy

Copyright © Tiffany Brophy 2019

All rights reserved

The right of Tiffany Brophy to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Dutch Auteurswet 2015.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.

A big thanks to my husband, Mark Brophy, and mum, Chrisanne McLaren, for reading and editing the first drafts.

Beep... Beep... Beep...

Like a train rolling on and on, the heart rate monitor beeped continuously creating a steady rhythm of dread. It was an indication of what was to come, a trailer, a prelude to the big beep: death.

The machine wasn't beeping in its usual environment. It was set up in a bedroom in Oxfordshire, England. A cozy, white room with heavy, beige curtains and decorative wooden floors. You could hardly see the floors at the moment though. The room wasn't in its typical state and it hadn't been for some time. A king size bed with white linen had been pushed to the side and squeezed in next to it was a hospital bed. There was a thin, human sized gap between the two beds and an array of hospital machinery and equipment surrounding them.

Beep... Beep... Beep...

The sound was almost pleasant in its repetition. It drowned out the soft, hagged breaths of the individual lying down amongst it all and it masked the quiet conversation taking place just outside the room. A forlorn, tired woman was talking with a nurse. The woman had heavy rings under her green eyes and her curly, orange hair lay flat and limp above her shoulders. The nurse nodded and placed her hand kindly on the woman's arm giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I've made him as comfortable as I can but it won't be long now, dear."

The woman nodded miserably. Her name was Charly and the sick man in the bed was the love of her life, her husband Daniel. Their home and bedroom had been transformed to accommodate Daniel when he became sick. He had been in and out of hospital repeatedly over the past few months but when there was nothing more to be done they had let Charly bring him home so that he could spend his last days in his own space. It was a small grace in an otherwise horrible situation.

Charly thanked the nurse who left to give them some privacy. The forlorn woman walked into her bedroom and as she did so she pulled out a bottle of orange pills from her pocket. After a quick glance at the full bottle she shoved it back in and climbed onto her bed. She sat on the white duvet and gently pulled the hospital bed towards herself, closing the gap between the two. She sat facing her husband and looked at his pale skin and stroked his cheek gently with the back of her hand. His skin was clammy but cold. Her touch stirred him and he mustered the strength to open his eyes slightly and give her a small smile. She bent down and kissed his forehead, her heart breaking into a million pieces. Daniel closed his eyes exhausted from the small encounter. Charly sat stroking his hair. He still had a thick mop of loose, black curls on top of his head. As she watched the man she loved struggle to breathe, big, wet tears filled her eyes. She thought of their lives together. They were both in their thirties and whilst they were not old, they were also not young. But it felt like she was being cheated. They were supposed to grow old together. They hadn't even had any children yet and now she supposed they never would.