When the doctor looks at me I know. He doesn’t need to say the words. My hand covers my mouth and my head starts to shake back and forth. Paul’s arm comes to rest on my waist holding me up.
“Mrs. Powell, if you’d like to see your husband I can take you to him. He doesn’t have much time left. I’m sorry. We’ve cleaned him up and he looks like he’s sleeping. The machines are keeping him breathing, but he can’t breathe on his own and he has very little brain activity.”
“He’s alive?”
“At the moment, yes.”
The doctor turns and I follow with Paul beside me. He pauses at the door separating me from my husband.
“What happened?”
Paul clears his throat. “He was sitting at the bottom of the hill, waiting for the light to change when an eighteen wheeler came behind him. The truck’s brakes gave out at the top of the hill and he couldn’t slow down. The driver said the light changed, but by then he was already too close and hit Mason. He says he honked, but you and I both know Mason probably had the radio turned up, so he probably didn’t hear him.”
Paul takes deep breath. “As soon as he hit, Mason lost control. He hit the wall before jumping the guardrail and hitting a tree.”
I don’t acknowledge Paul or the doctor. I push the door open. My hand covers my mouth as a sob takes over my body. My husband… my school sweetheart lays before me with a white sheet covering his body. His arms are down at his side. His face… his beautiful face is bruised and covered in cuts. I can’t tell if this is my husband or not. I take tentative steps to his bedside and run my fingers up his arm. I bend slightly and look at his shoulder, unable to control myself, I lay myself on top of him and cry. This beat up man is my husband and he’s dying.
“Mason,” I say over and over again waiting for a sign or some type of response to show me that the doctor is wrong. My husband is strong. He can pull through this. He just needs to know that I’m here and that I love him. I cup his face, lean in and kiss his lips. They’re cold and uninviting. I run my hand over his hair. He has an appointment tomorrow morning so he can get a trim. Every six-weeks like clock work.
“Mason, baby, please wake up.” I plead with him. “Open your beautiful eyes for me.” I lay my head on his chest to feel his heart, but it’s so faint.
“Katie?”
My head pops up and I see Mr. Powell standing at the end of the bed. I forgot to call him. He looks at me with such sorrow in his eyes. He comes to me, his arms wrapping around my shoulders. He holds me while I cry. I scream loudly, but don’t know the words that are coming out of my mouth. His body shakes with mine as we battle the pain that is ripping through our bodies. Our world is leaving us and we are powerless to stop him from going.
“We have to say goodbye.”
I shake my head. “No, he’s strong, he’ll pull through.”
“I know, Katie.” He sighs, holding me tighter. The machine beeps. We break apart. I hold Mason’s hand while his father holds his other. My fingers twist his wedding band back and forth while my other hand strokes his cheek. I lean forward, setting my lips by his ear.
“I love you, Mason Powell. You’re the best husband and father. Our daughters love you. If you can hear me, fight baby. Fight so damn hard because we need you. I need you. I don’t know how to live without you.” My tears wet the side of his face. I hear his dad take in a deep breath. I can’t even begin to imagine how he’s doing this. We were in this same hospital not a year ago saying goodbye to his wife.
Mason’s body shudders. The beeping stops. I try to choke back a sob, but it wracks through my body. I cry for the loss of my husband and best friend.
I wipe away the tears that are steaming down my face. I hadn’t thought about that night in such a long time. The nightmares are few and far between. Now I just dream about him coming for me. Months ago that is something I wanted. Not the death part, but to have him in my arms again, but now? Now I wonder if there’s something out there for me. Is Harrison the one who can turn things around for me and give the girls a father figure? The answer is no because I have a feeling that if I replaced Mason, my father-in-law might be hurt, and there’s no way I’m going to hurt him.
“I need help, Mason,” I say to his tombstone, knowing that it won’t answer, but wishing it would. “These feelings I have inside me are raging, building up to the surface and I feel like I’m going to explode. I’m antsy and on edge. Something has to change, but I don’t know what. I hate having feelings for another man when I love you so much. I shouldn’t feel like this. My heart… it should know better, Mason. Please tell me what to do.”
Of course, he doesn’t answer. He’ll never answer. He’ll never sit by my side and help me through the tiniest of problems. He’ll never hold my hand and walk with me along the path that we set out for ourselves so many years ago.
“Harrison will.”