Aaron looked at the doctor through misty eyes and held on to his wife's hand. How could all this have happened? She'd been so healthy, so vibrant and full of life. But now, just three months after telling him she felt unwell, here she was, lying in front of him, emaciated and about to die.
They had all the money in the world, a huge mansion, more luxury cars than they knew what to do with, a sixty-five-foot yacht, and an army of servants. It all had no significance whatsoever. He’d put so much hard work into his business to ensure they had a wonderful life. It meant nothing now. All he was going to have left were memories of his beautiful wife.
Aaron felt nauseous but avoided going to the bathroom for fear she would be dead when he came back. A few people close to him, his mother, his sister, and Pastor Evans, had told him she would soon be out of pain, and he knew that, but it was of no comfort.
The doctor moved away from Lindsey's bed and watched her from afar as Aaron sat in the chair next to her and waited. Why couldn't he do something to help? He'd always solved their problems before. But this, this was beyond him, and beyond the whole of medical science.
“Mom,” Aaron said when Jean arrived in the room at St Edward's Infirmary. She put her hand on his shoulder and looked at her daughter-in-law. “She's going, Mom, and there's nothing I can do about it, nothing at all.”
Jean turned her head away and bit her trembling lip as her tears began to flow. She'd seen people die before, her husband and her father, but this was infinitely worse. Lindsey was just thirty-two, and she was leaving a loving husband and a wonderful son behind. “What did the doctor say?” Jean asked.
“He said she's in the final phase. That means it's imminent.” Aaron's voice broke, and he leaned his head on his mom's breasts as she stood next to him.
“How's Matthew?” Jean asked.
“Devastated. He's with his nanny. I can't believe it. The callous bitch handed her notice in three days ago, just as his mom is about to die. Can you believe it?”
Jean shook her head in disbelief. How was Matthew going to cope with losing his mom and his nanny in the same week? Autistic kids didn't react well to change, and at five years old it was likely to affect him very badly.
When Lindsey opened her eyes, Aaron stood up. He felt her grip his hand as hard as she could. “Aaron, I'm sorry if at any time I said or did anything to hurt you or Matthew,” she whispered. Her voice sounded cracked and dry.
“You didn't. Not once. We love you more than anything in the world,” Aaron said, hardly able to speak past the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him.
“I'm going now. Tell Matthew I love him, and look after him as I know you will. I love you. I'm sorry I let you down like this.”
“You didn't. You didn't,” Matthew said as he stroked her forehead.
Lindsey's eyes closed, and Aaron heard the sound he had been dreading: her last breath slipping from her.
He lay across her limp form and hugged her as huge sobs racked his body. After a few minutes, Jean took his arm and pulled him to her. He cried like a baby on his mom's shoulder for the first time in years.
The doctor discreetly closed Lindsey's eyes and folder her arms across her body. Aaron looked down at her and blew her one last kiss.
“We'll take Lindsey to the Chapel of Rest now,” the doctor said. “You can visit her there again today if you’d like.”
“No, doctor. Thanks, but I made my mind up not to visit her after she'd died. I want to remember her the way she was,” Aaron said.
Dr. Ellis put his hand on Aaron's arm. “That's very wise. Speak to Pastor Evans later. I'm sure he'll be able to offer some words of comfort to you and Matthew.”
“Thank you for all you have done for us, doctor. You made her very comfortable, and I appreciate that,” Aaron said.
“Come along, Aaron. Let's go and leave the doctor to do what he has to,” Jean said. She put her arm around him as they walked out of the room.
Aaron went to his office before going home. He wanted to tell the people who worked for him. When he walked through the glass door, the receptionist knew just by looking at his face. She got up and hugged him. “I'm so sorry, Aaron. If there's anything I can do, you will tell me, won't you?”
“Thanks, Jan. Just keep up the good work. That's all I ask.”
He walked along the corridor and into his office. He closed the door and sat behind his desk. I've built all this singlehandedly, he thought, but what difference has it made? Now I'm a widower, and Matthew doesn't have a mom. When he looked out of window, he could see for miles down the Hudson River. He loved New York, but on that day, it looked gray and uninviting. He owned the whole building in downtown Manhattan, a ninety-story maze of offices, retail and residential real estate. It wasn't the only building he owned. He owned similar properties all over the States and Europe.
“Aaron, I'm so sorry,” Megan said.
“Come in,” Aaron said when he saw her hesitating.
She walked to his desk and hugged him. After she'd dabbed the corner of her eye with a tissue, she sat down in the chrome and leather chair opposite him.