“You did this your way. You didn’t let it win. You knew the risks, and you made the best choice for you. And you stuck with it. You did what you thought was right. I will always support you in that.”
“But I should’ve fought, Nate. For you. For us. But I didn’t. I-I was afraid. I was too afraid to fight. Even for you. And I’m so, so sorry, Nate. I’m so, so sorry.”
Devastation softens my knees.
Regret weakens my limbs.
As this last confession leaves me, so does the last of my energy. I crumple like crepe paper. Faster than my melting body, Nate catches me. He always catches me.
Always.
“It wasn’t because I didn’t love you,” I tell him brokenly, allowing him to sweep me up into his warm, comforting arms. I just don’t have the strength to stand. Or fight. Not anymore. “It’s because I was weak. And scared.”
“You’re not weak, Lena. And it’s okay to be scared. I’m scared, too.”
“But you didn’t give up on me. I did. I gave up, Nate. Can you ever forgive me? Please say you can forgive me, Nate. Please!”
I turn my face into the curve of his neck. I feel the thump of his back hitting the wall behind us as he relaxes onto it, looking for some support of his own.
His voice is torment.
It is agony.
It is anguish.
“Don’t do this, Lena. Don’t torture yourself. You’re one of the strongest, bravest women I’ve ever known. You did what you thought was best.”
“I chose wrong, Nate. I chose wrong.”
His next words are quiet.
Hesitant.
True.
“I bet Grace wouldn’t say that.”
Grace.
Our daughter. A piece of each of us in the form of the most beautiful child I’ve ever seen. I wouldn’t trade her for all the years in the world. For a thousand lifetimes. For a million healthy bodies.
She’s all we ever wanted. The missing piece of our family. She will be the one who holds my Nate’s hand not only when she needs it, but when he needs it. She has brought us healing and hope when there seemed to be none.
My jar was nearly empty before her. Now it is overflowing. She filled it. She is the light that I will take with me to heaven, the light I will carry with me for all of eternity.
A piece of me.
The best piece of me.
Thoughts of her bring perspective. Calm. Resolve. I exhale, my sigh sounding like her name.
Grace.
“No, she wouldn’t. And she is worth it, isn’t she? Worth all of this.”
I imagine that the sheen in Nate’s eyes matches the sheen in my own. There’s so much love between us, and because of that love and the love we have for our baby, I know that we could never fully regret my decision. It was either my life or Grace’s, and I know I’d make the same choice again if I could give Nate that little girl over and over and over.
“Thank you,” I murmur, brushing my lips over his.
“For what?”
“For forgiving me. And for reminding me. This is the only way it could’ve happened. God’s will.”
Nate says nothing at first, only watches me silently as he processes my words, words so unlike the woman he’s known for so long. I know it must seem foreign, but to me, it seems like a truth I’ve known all my life.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe there is a God, and this is His will.”
“I’m right, Nate. He gave me the choice between my own life and yours, hers. I made the right choice. I would choose you two every time. Again and again. I guess I just…I guess I just lost sight of that for a few minutes. I…sometimes I don’t feel quite myself.”
Oftentimes, I don’t. I feel like some strange amalgamation of the old Lena and a strange new Lena, of her old memories and her wildest dreams. Reality, for me, is an odd mixture of elaborate fantasy and unspeakable horror.
“I love you. All the different yous.”
“And I love you for loving me that way. I know it’s been hard. But it’s almost over.”
I hadn’t intended to drop that bomb on him in such a casual way, but here it is, out in the open.
Nate tucks his cheek against mine, and I feel his sharp intake of breath. I know he’s fighting back a surge of emotion. I recognize the signs.
“I will always love you. Every part of you. There will never be another one like you. Never. Not for me. And just so you know, I would do this all again, fall in love with you over and over, no matter how long we’d have together. You’re worth it, Lena. You’re worth everything.”
His voice cracks at the last, and he pulls me tighter against his chest and slides his face down into the curve of my neck.
This time together, here alone, near the end... It feels poignant and powerful and somehow significant, like we are communicating more deeply than our words. Sentiment swirls around us, weaving in between the spoken things, tying them together with truth and honesty.
His heart is as raw and open as mine. We are naked to each other, nothing between us but truth. And I don’t want this moment to end. Not yet. I can’t bear to break the magic of it.
“Can you help me in the shower?” I ask tentatively.
I don’t want us to spend my last hours mourning this way. I want to give my husband good memories, especially now.