Silence

The monitor beeped. The hospital was still. The old man sat by the pale green bed. His wife lay, breathing slowly. Tears ran down his cheeks as he remembered the past week.
She had awoken in the night, sweaty. She gasped for breath, her heart barely working. He had stumbled towards the phone, almost too late. The ambulance had taken her to the hospital, where they had been for seven days.
The clock steadily ticked forwards. The room grew cold, blowing around through the vents, emptying themselves onto the skin of the pair. The old man took his wife's hand, rubbing it to keep her warm. The tips of her fingers were turning blue, due to the bad circulation.
At a quarter to one, a nurse came in. "Sir?"
He grunted.
"Sir, I'm so sorry. She may not last through the night. Her heart is failing." She pointed at the screen. "See that?"
The man nodded.
"Her heart rate is going down. Her body's shutting down, sir. She's preparing to die. I'm so sorry."
"We've been married for sixty-three years. Ever since we were twenty-six," he said softly. "I don't want to lose her,"
She patted his shoulder. "I know, sir. We'll do our best." The nurse smiled, and left.
They were alone again. In silence. He dozed off.
He awoke to a loud beeping noise. As he blearily opened his eyes, he noticed the room was full of nurses. "What's going on?" he cried out, half asleep.
The nurse looked at him sadly. "She's gone."