A Loss For Words

Mia Davis

"James," she whispers, and he bolts upright in bed.

"Mia?" he asks frantically, because she hasn't said his name in months.

She nods and he knows this is it.

And he's been preparing every day for ten years but he's not ready for it, not even close, and he can't do anything but hold her, his face pressed to hers, his arm tight around her waist.

He has no idea why she's able to look at him and see him right now but the last thing he's going to do is question it.

"Do you know how happy you've made me?" he asks, his voice shaking so hard he can barely get the words out, but his eyes are locked on hers. "When I said we were perfect together, I meant it, Mia, I meant it then and I mean it now and you will always be for me, okay?"

She blinks up at him, her eyes wide. "And you know what else I meant?"

His mouth is trembling so badly he can hardly breathe. "Life's been a dream, Mia, and it all started with you. You have given me everything I'll ever need," he whispers, "for a lifetime."

He then presses his lips to hers and she's kissing him back even though she hasn't in a year and everything inside of him breaks.

Her eyes focused on his, and they're clear and bright and he can't do anything but clutch her desperately.

He buries his head in her neck and mumbles, "I love you," and then her hand goes slack in his and she's gone, she's gone, Mia's gone, his Mia is gone.

He doesn't move for a long, long time.