The Pain of Love

What would you do if you were allowed to change a horrible accident? Would you save your loved one's life even at the cost of others? Of would you let things take their course and perhaps turn out for the best? These are the questions that plague the c

The room was so still and silent that Saturday morning. Only the quiet beep of the heart monitor and the gentle movement of the respirator brought life to that hospital room. Just outside the window another world could be seen. Two women spoke about their family life, while their young children played nearby. A man rushed to his car, often glancing at his watch. It was a beautiful day. Cloudless and bright, the day was warm but with a faint and gentle breeze caressing the land.

 

Inside room number 267 all thoughts were on the crumpled figure of a woman lying on that hospital bed. A cast was on her right arm and leg, and many bandages covered her broken body. But what use where the bandages? Could they heal a brain dead woman?

 

Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed; his hands covering his head as if they could keep him from the horrible realization. He didn't cry or moan, his body was too numb from the shock. The pain hadn't set in yet.

 

Two other figures graced the still room. His father-in-law stood at the window, looking but seeing nothing. The mother sat in another chair at her daughter's feet, concentrating on the toes that protruded from the covers. No one spoke. Each was lost in his own thoughts.

 

A knock on the door brought them back to reality. A woman opened the door and brought in a handful of balloons.

 

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she hesitated, "Cindy and I went to school together. She even watches my little girl when I have to work late," she paused looking at the blank faces that stared back at her. "Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I'm praying for Cindy, and to bring you...well these," and she held out the balloons since there was no table on her side of the room to set them on. Cindy's mother only turned back to continued to stare at her daughter's foot, and her father only grunted a "Thank you," so Don, Cindy' husband, stood to retrieve the kind gift.

 

Still numb he only muttered something about the balloons being pink, as her reached for them.

"I know," the woman nodded as an unchecked tear ran down her check. "It's Cindy's favorite color," she relinquished her hold and spun around, leaving quickly to avoid crying in front of the sorrowful family.

 

Mechanically, Don walked to a table near the window, and dropped the weight her held in his hand.

Pink," he murmured, "Cindy's favorite color." Suddenly the numbness left and all Don could feel was anger boiling up inside him. He slammed his hand down on the table. "I should have been more careful!" he cried the tears now willing themselves to fall. And the horrific senses of the accident came flooding back. Cindy's father walked over to him.

 

"Son," he said as he laid his hand on Don's back, "What's done is done. Don't try changing something that already happened."

 

"But if I could only change it!"

 

"You can't, so it's just best to forget about it."

 

"But if we had only left sooner or taken a different road."

 

"You are blaming yourself son. It's no one's fault. It was just an accident."

 

"How can you say that when your daughter is lying dead on that bed? Or do you not care because you have other children? Cindy is all I have in the world. And now she is dead. Did you hear me?Dead!"

 

At this outburst, Cindy's mother began crying uncontrollably; wailing as she was just realizing that her daughter was brain dead. "You need to calm yourself down, son," father said as he gathered his wife into his arms. He left trying to sooth his wife's hysterical cries.

 

Don slumped back into his chair and looked at his wife's face. There were no scratches or visible signs of damage. She only looked as if she were slumbering peacefully. However, the pressure and the internal bleeding from the car wreck reduced the brain wave activity to where her doctor's declared her brain dead.

 

"Oh, Cindy," Don whispered as her leaned towards her and took her hand. "If I could only do something. If I could only fix this and make you better." He stroked her hand and played with her wedding ring. Looking at her face again Don pleaded, "Tell me this is just a bad dream." And he lifted the small hand to his lips and kissed it, closing his eyes.

 

"Oh come on sleepyhead. Wake up." A voice called to Don. He opened his eyes and looked around him. He was in his own bed in his own bedroom. Shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, Don sat up and looked towards the voice.

 

"Finally," the voice said as it threw some clothes at him. "Hurry up and dress or we'll be late for dinner." Looking closer, Don was stunned to see his wife sitting at her vanity finishing her makeup. For a moment he was shocked, then he stood up and walked over to her. Kissing her on the head, Don was glad to think it had all been just a terrible dream.

 

Laughingly Cindy patted him on the cheek, "Your awful sweet tonight. Now go ahead and get dressed." Don stared to obey as she continued talking. "It's either because you had to work today on our anniversary or became you had to work today on our first anniversary."

 

Don halted in the middle of his tracks. Those words hauntingly came back to him. How clearly he remembered them. How disturbed they made him feel.

 

"Are you sure about today?" he turned and questioned his wife.

 

Stunned, Cindy stopped her hairbrush in mid air and looked intently at him. "Don't tell me you forgot what today was!"

 

"Uh...no...it's just...the nap I took...you know," he stammered over the words, "I got, kinda confused."

 

"Well you better have remembered, Mister," Cindy threatened while banishing her hairbrush at him.

 

"Well go check the coat I wore today," he added. Giggling, Cindy jumped up and ran out of the room. "It can't be," weakly Don argued to himself, "It was just a bad dream." His knees refused to listen to reason and he crumpled into the nearest chair, suddenly out of breath. Cindy came thundering up the stair, with all the vigor and energy he knew she possessed.

 

"Oh, it's beautiful!" she exclaimed as she came back into the room sporting the diamond ring. "Now I forgive you for working overtime," she said coming over to his chair and throwing her arms around him.

 

Halfheartedly Don returned her embrace. Inwardly Don groaned and cried. He was either living it over again, or maybe he had been given another chance. Maybe he could fix it and keep Cindy from getting hurt. Taking her hands in his, he gazed deep in her eyes.

 

"Do we have to go anywhere tonight?" he asked hoping against hope that she would agree to stay home, safe from the dangerous outside world.

 

Cindy's countenance changed, "I've waited all month to go see this play. And the reservations at the restaurant were terribly difficult to get. Please let's go, Don." Sighing, Don nodded in agreement doing so against his whole being. All he wanted to do was to hold Cindy tight, to keep her safe. Hurriedly he glanced at the clock. They never would have been in the car wreck in the first place if he had been ready on time. Don's being late, caused them to take a shortcut, which proved to be very dangerous. Quickly he dressed and was ready early this time.

 

Cindy was stunning in her brilliant red evening gown. Don helped her into her coat. "Is it raining?" she asked as he reached for the umbrella. Don nodded, knowing without looking out the window. The slick roads from the rain had played a huge role in the accident. "Oh, it's not allowed to rain on our anniversary!" Cindy exclaimed. Rushing through the rain, Don helped Cindy in and ran to the driver's side. He slipped in and paused with his hand on the ignition, hoping Cindy would change her mind.

 

"Is something wrong?" she inquired.

 

"No," he replied gloomily and started the car. The ride started in silence.

 

"Is there something bothering you?" Cindy asked aware of the mood that had fallen over Don.

 

"No. Why do you ask?"

 

"Well, it's just that you are so quiet."

 

"I guess that I just don't feel like talking."

 

"That could be bad for a marriage," Cindy reprimanded, but allowed the subject to drop. Don drove on quietly. As they drove through town, they came to a bridge, which had a sign saying "Bridge Out"

 

"When did this happen?" Don asked.

 

"I don't know, but it's getting late. I guess you'll have to take the shortcut."

 

Don debated turning around, with himself, but he didn't want to disappoint Cindy and he was sure to miss the wreck this time. They were very early. However, as they drove down the long road leading to that deadly intersection, the rain increased in intensity, causing Don to slow his speed. They seemed to crawl along, minutes passing quickly. The time of the crash was drawing near. Don's hands began to sweat and his nerves began tingling. They came near the 4-way stop sign. Memories flashed through Don' head when he saw the sign in the distance. He seemed shocked, although he had been expecting it. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. The clock read 6:37. Those three numbers were forever engrained in his mind.

 

Although the hour was still early, the storm had blackened the sky. As the car slowed to a stop, another car pulled up to their left in the intersection. Don had the right of way, and yet he waited.

 

"No," he cried looking at Cindy, "I can't lose you again. I need you too much." Cindy only looked back at him bewildered at his outburst. Meanwhile, the car to their left interpreted the hesitation as a signal for them to go ahead. They turned left through the intersection. At the same time, however, a small pickup truck was approaching the intersection to the right of Don and Cindy. The driver applied the brakes to stop the truck, the slick roads caused the truck to hydroplane, and it skidded right into the small car in the intersection. The force of the collision forced both the car and the truck off the road.

 

Cindy screamed, "That could've been us!" she pointed at the tangled mess.

 

"Call emergency," Don instructed as he jumped from the car. "This isn't what I meant to happen," he thought to himself as he sloshed through the mud to the small car. The driver of the truck had come out of his vehicle and Don could see it was just a teenage boy.

 

"Are they alright?" he was almost crying while he held his left arm that appeared to be broken. Don didn't reply as he tried to jerk open the driver's side door. Inside he could see a young woman, but he couldn't see if she was hurt. They boy stood by unable to help, and Don wasn't sure if he would have been any help anyway.

 

Finally the door gave way and Don reached in to check the woman's pulse. Finding none, he turned her head and he could feel her neck was broken. She was dead. The airbags hadn't deployed or maybe the old car didn't have any.

 

"The ambulance and the police are on their way," Don heard Cindy say, "They should be here any" she broke off in mid-sentence. Don saw her, soaking wet and her heels ruined by stepping through the mud. She had come over to see if she could help, but staring at the woman, Cindy whispered, "It's Alice...my...friend." Don looked again and he recognized the woman's face. It was the woman who had brought the balloons. She was dead. "Where's her little girl? Is she in the car too?" Cindy asked.

 

"Oh, no!" the teenage boy cried, "Is the little girl dead too?" Don tried to open the back door, while Cindy looked after the boy and his arm.

 

"What am I going to do?" the boy kept asking her, and Cindy tried to quiet him. Succeeding in opening the back door, Don did find a small girl.

 

"She's alive!" he shouted. The ambulance showed up and the police arrived too. The little girl was loaded into the ambulance and it sped off into the rain, which still fell. Don felt as if the sky were crying over the decision he had made. The police took Don and Cindy's statements and released them to return home. The return home was very hushed. As they arrived home, Don thought of how he had been looking forward to changing what he thought was the worst mistake in his life. He thought of how he wanted to see Cindy walk back up their front walk. But now he only saw the woman and her child, crushed, broken and still, just as Cindy had been. Don took Cindy in his arms.

 

"I'm so glad it wasn't us," he confessed to her.

 

Cindy sadly shook her head, not raising her head to look at him. "Maybe it should have been us."

 

"What?"

 

"You don't know Alice's husband. This will kill him, he will just fall apart without her."

 

"I would fall apart without you too,"

 

"No," Cindy contradicted," you would be all right. You're strong and deep in you heart you would always have me."

 

"So you wanted to be in that wreck."

 

"I don't know right now," Cindy answered truthfully.

 

"I think we both need some sleep," Don surmised. As he crawled into bed, Don was almost afraid to fall asleep; he was afraid to wakeup and to have lost Cindy. The next morning was bright and beautiful, and this morning Don did notice it, perhaps for the first time. Cindy had been downstairs early and was in the kitchen when he ventured in. She was fixing breakfast, bacon, eggs and waffles, Don's favorite. Don walked up behind her and hugged her tight.

 

"Good morning," he said, but Cindy didn't answer. Gently, Don turned her to face him. She had been crying, her eyes were red and there were tearstains on her cheek.

 

"Now I wish it had been us in the wreck," she blurted out.

 

"Don't ever with anything like that," Don replied angrily.

 

"You don't understand. The young boy in the accident last night killed himself. He was found early this morning. They said he was so upset about what he did." Don sat down, but Cindy continued, "They can't find Alice's husband. He got drunk last night and ran off. And the little girl, Shirley, her face might be deformed for the rest of her life." A fresh flood of tears came to Cindy, and Don reached out and clasped her tight while she cried. The whole world stood still while Cindy sobbed.

 

"Don't try changing something that's already happened." Those words came hauntingly back to Don and he cried too.

 

"I shouldn't have tried to change it," he thought to himself, "I was given a chance to see that thing happen for a reason. I only hope I might have that chance again. But what would I do if I had it to do all over again? Would I be strong enough to let it happen? Or is there any other way?" The rest of the day, Don hoped for another chance, a chance to save two peoples' lives and the deep hurts and injuries of many others. Don was torn in two directions. Part of him wanted to hold his wife close and the other half wanted to keep out more hurt and become used to the loneliness that would fill his heart. He fought through both circumstances. First his heart said to keep Cindy safe, but then his heart couldn't put his hurt on anybody else. Every time he saw his wife, he decided to save her. Every time he thought of the woman who came to the hospital, he decided to let it happen.

 

Don stalked around, silent but a storm had settled on his face. Cindy saw this and was concerned about him. Once he disappeared and when she finally found him, he was sitting on the floor in their bedroom clutching a photo of her in his hands. It was his favorite photo of them. It had been taken on their first date. They were in college when they bumped into each other while running to make a class. Both of them were late. Books had slid all over, and by mistake Don had later found one of Cindy's books in his possessions.

 

It was such a coincidence at the time, but now Cindy wondered. They were just made for each other. Just thinking if either of them had been on time it was hard to think about. Cindy knew Don had thought about it. Kneeling next to him, Cindy stroked his head and lifted his chin. Seeing her, Don wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close to him. Then unashamed and unheeded tears fell from his eyes.

 

"I love you so much, I'm scared of losing you," he confessed to her.

 

"You'll always have me," Cindy both comforted and reminded him while wiping away the tears with her hands. "I love you too," Cindy responded, "And no one and nothing can take that away from us." She leaned her head on his shoulder. He knew the time would come again to go through that dreadful night. He knew now which way it was meant to be. Don closed his eyes and when he opened them again, Cindy was scolding him.

 

"Oh, come on sleepyhead, wakeup," her voice called to him. It had started over again. Again he would have to go through the accident. Sadness fell over Don, and he went through that night on autopilot. Only when he was that treacherous intersection and saw the time on the clock, did he truly realize what was happening.

 

He stopped and as he stepped on the gas pedal he spoke to his wife, "I love you."

 

Cindy smiled and leaned towards him.  "I love you too," she said touching his cheek.

 

As soon as she finished speaking, the truck hit her door. Tires screamed, metal bent and crumbled and glass shattered. Every thing happened in slow motion for Don. The truck continued going off the road, but the car spun and rolled over once. After an eternity of noise, everything stopped. Everything was still. Everything was quiet. The rain continued to fall.

 

A woman came running up to the window. "Are you alright?" she asked as she dialed for help on her cellphone. Don didn't respond, but deep inside he knew he would be all right. From them on it was all a blur. Flashing lights in the rain, turned into a moving ambulance and then Don was rolled into the emergency room with his wife.

 

"My wife," he said weakly as he waved his hand in her direction.

 

The nurse comforted him. "We're doing all we can." Don slipped into fitful slumber. When he awoke the next day a nurse came in to tell him he was well enough to be released.

 

"My wife Cindy?" he began.

 

"You can go see her after you sign you paperwork. She's in room 267." Don saw some clothes lying on his chair. He knew from experience they were brought by Cindy's parents. He saw them and thought back to the dress Cindy wore and how it was torn and splattered with blood and mud and he almost cried again. But he willed himself to live up to the strength Cindy said he possessed. Sore from the accident, he gingerly dressed and slowly walked down the long hall to the receptionist's desk. Quickly dispensing with all the paperwork, Don made his way to Cindy's room.

 

Seated in the chair at her foot was her mother. Again Cindy's father was standing near the window. Don sat at Cindy's left and took the uninjured hand in his. Other than a few bumps and bruises, Don had one cut on his right hand that was bandaged.

 

Again Alice visited, bringing with her pink balloons. This time Don was glad to see her and told her how he appreciated the visit, he told her he wanted to be reminded of the fun times with Cindy. Alice left much happier this time.

 

Don felt there was only one thing left to be corrected, but he didn't know the name of the boy. Later, after Cindy's parents went out to get a bite to eat, another visitor walked into the room. It was the boy that had been in the accident. His left arm was in a sling and he had a cut over his right eye. Eyes that looked so terrified.

 

"I wanted to say how sorry I am. I know that doesn't help much, but it's all I can do. I wish I could take it all back. Oh, how I wish I could change it." He avoided Don's gaze, scared of the response.

 

Don rose and put him bandaged arm around the boy's back. "It's done boy," he said while the boy's eyes watered, "Don't wish to change it. It's not your fault. There's a reason behind it all. We need to continue living our lives. Everything will turn out fine. You'll see." The boy nodded, glad of the way Don treated him, no longer scared but hopeful. Life could go on. The boy left and Don resumed his seat.

 

Cindy's parents returned and a few more hours passed and the doctor came in to see the family.

"Well the injury isn't as severe as we had first thought. It might be a few days before we know for sure. But, I will tell you there is hope." Never before had Don been so confused. Hope? There hadn't been any hope before. After the doctor left a silence remained in the room.

 

The quiet beep of the heart monitor and the gentle movement of the respirator brought more than life to that hospital room. Now it brought hope. Suddenly Cindy moaned and turned her head to Don.

 

She opened her eyes and spoke softly to him, "Hello, baby." A cry escaped Don, and her parents ran from the room to find a doctor. Never before had those words sounded so sweet.

 

"Oh, you're crying," Cindy said brushing the tears off Don's cheek. And to this day Don swears she added, "Don't you think this is the way it should be."

 

Recovery was long and hard, but Don was grateful for every minute of it. Alice came to visit often and brought along her little girl. The teenage boy in the accident recovered very well and pursed a career in counseling. He wanted to help others that were in the same position as he had been.

 

Two years after the accident to the exact day, Don and Cindy were blessed with the birth of a little girl. Don was ecstatic and beside himself with pride in his little Faith. Bliss and contentment reign in the little home and in the small town. Don often thought about the lives of Alice and her family, of the boy and the kids he helped later on in his life, and of his family. It seemed ironic; he tried everyway to keep the accident from happening because of his love for Cindy. But when he allowed it to happen, his love for Cindy saved her life. Because she leaned forward to answer his "I love you," her injuries were not as severe. Cindy never again mentioned her comment the day after the accident, but Don believes everything happens for a reason.

Author's Note

What do you think?

Reviews

[Dominique D'Arcy]

It's so sweet. He was so sad to let her die because he loved her so much yet he did what was right and let life take it's course. I am so glad that she lived and that the reason was that she leaned forward to answer the 'I love you'. Very touching story. No matter how hard I try, I can never express strong emotions in my writing; you're very good at it. I think the next step to improve your writing would be to expand your vocabulary and employ more techniques.

[Warrior]

Great story telling. This did justice in the realm of getting the message across. Great message. There's lot of times where a story can have a great message to aim for, and have a lot of under lining things but then no one gets it, and if no one gets it, then the point has failed. But in my opinion this did well to get the message across. You made it clear, which is why I think it's good. Keep up the good work. What was also great was that I could imagine the story as I read it, and that is also a strong point of stories. The ability to have the reader imagine it because after all we're reading not watching it, but it was as if I was there as I read this, and that is great. Great visuals and great story telling. It had plot and substance. When you add substance to writing it gets that much better. It gets the reader hooked on it and make them feel as if they are part of it. As long as their is that emotional connection between the reader and the story then it's good. The connection you were able to established in the writing gives the reader a sense of comfortably that they are in tune with the writing. So that way when the writing is over, the reader wants more, and wishes it didn't end. I feel the same way when I watched a movie or tv series that I get so attached to, I never want it to end. And for this writing, I didn't want it to end. You had me hooked, and I am sure everyone else who read it was hooked as well. That is good, that is what you want for people to keep wanting more. The way you put the story together makes me feel like my life is different for that moment in which I read your story. I love it, and it was beautiful. Just keep posting stories like this, and you'll have a good following.

[Beth O'Leary]

I think this is a sweet and interesting story. I love the twist at the end that her "I love you" saved her when she leaned forward to respond to him. I thought you needed a better transition into the first time he relives the day of the accident. It seemed to jump to the point where he wakes up to her voice, and I'm not sure I bought it. Also, I feel if Alice were such a good friend of Cindy that she wouldn't have had to introduce herself the first time she walked into the hospital room; Don, at least, would have known her.