Hands

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic


A couple battling hardships tries their best to come to terms with the situation.

Submitted: February 06, 2018

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Submitted: February 06, 2018

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Hands

They were warm to the touch. Rugged at points. But the best thing to grace his course skin since he was admitted to the depressing dormitory. The appalling room that he knew it was, though never seeing it. Feeling the room was enough. Hearing the room was enough, but those calm and smooth palms were a stark contrast to the dreadful aura he sensed routinely.

Everyday from then on, he would feel the gracefully slender fingers gently caress his. Every so often. He would feel the hands’ owner gently lay their head on his chest and cry. He loved the smell of her hair as it softly tickled his nose. She would always tell him how she would be here to love and care for him no matter what and that she hoped he could hear her. He could hear her, he could feel her too, and he wanted so desperately to tell her. Suddenly, the door creaked open at a painfully reluctant pace. A hushed argument could be heard. More crying. Next, a new hand grasped his, a gloved hand. He hated it. Cold, unnatural, and more often than not, it was the harbinger of dreadful news.

He woke up five days later.

When he did wake up though. No one greeted him. He didn't see her face, her golden laced hair, her flawless features, or her soft hands that got him through his comatose state. Nurses flooded into the room to see his eyes unexpectedly open. They celebrated at the sight. Though he didn't. He scanned the room for his wife. He couldn't find her. When the nurses and doctors were done celebrating the medical miracle. They noticed the panicked expression that was strewn on his face.

No one wanted to do it, eventually the silence would be even deadlier than the news that he knew would come.

“Your wife….. she slipped into a coma not too long ago. We found her, about five days ago. She snuck into your room every night. We reviewed security footage after catching her and for the past month that she has been admitted here. Her wounds have gotten worse. We don't know how much time she has left. I'm sorry…”

He froze there. It could've been five minutes, five hours, even five years. He couldn't tell the difference.

He stayed in her room, never leaving. He kept his hands in hers, hoping to God that she could feel what he felt. Even when the beeping became a flat ringing noise. When the nurses came in, followed by doctors. When they tried to pull him away. He held her hand tighter and kissed her forehead, like he knew she liked. He told her that everything would be okay and that he would never leave. He could've sworn he saw a glint in her eyes and a quick smile as 3 doctors forcibly drug him out of the room.

The suit that he knew she loved enhanced his depressing appearance. His son got dressed in a little getup that she would have loved to see him in herself. She picked it out after all. He held his son tighter than ever after seeing the casket lowered. His son buried his face in the fur of one of the three dogs that have been loyal companions since their marriage. One being a Christmas present to his wife, another she picked out, and the third was a rescued stray that their son had found. The dogs whimpered as they realized that their owner would never return.

Over the next 5 years. His routine never changed. He would go to work. Attend to his son’s needs. Every night, without fault or failure, he would sneak out of the house in his best suit that she loved so much. The dogs curled up near his son for the night. He walked to the cemetery, so that his headlights wouldn't wake his son. He would approach the cemetery and search for a specific tombstone. He would set his phone alarm for the morning so he could get home in time to make breakfast for his son. He would sleep there. With his hand on the tombstone. Hoping to God that she could feel what he felt when he was in a coma. He imagined that she could feel his hand and was smiling. That made him happy. He laid his head down and went to sleep.

The dry cleaners eventually got curious. They talked about the man with the dirty suit who would need dry cleaning every morning and the suit returned that night. They wondered why. Why was this morning any different? Where was he?

 



© Copyright 2020 Cameron Sperling. All rights reserved.

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