Melody

My bones feel weak. My mind is filled with scattered thoughts and numb memories. Every breath is a strain on my lungs.

But at least my body still functions. I'm able to walk around and enjoy takeout that my friends bring me. Ella and Brenna spend evenings with me at the hospital, and we watch the hockey game. When Maddison and my parents arrive in Vancouver, they join us. We pass around the popcorn and snacks, watching as Kal and Shea try to wrack up the points.

The next people to arrive are Hunter and Jayden.

Then my friends arrive, bringing me macarons from my favourite bakery. They use the gift card that was supposed to be for my original wedding plans.

Three days later, Kal and Shea return home. Kal skips out on practices to spend as much time with me as he can. He practically lives here, which makes me worry about his mental health. I know loss is unbearable. I know I'm the lucky one in this situation. But it's impossible to separate your life into two categories. He can't stay here, thinking his life outside of the hospital is on pause. That's not how the world works. Even when you're suffering.

A week has passed since Kal arrived home from his road trip. We've spent this week in good spirits despite what lingers on the horizon. But with that day creeping up on us, things have started looking grey. It's as if all the colours have been leached from this world. I've watched it deteriorate Kal's mental health. And now that it's our last night together, he's more distant that ever, despite the warm embrace of his arms and the smell of his cologne.

"We don't have enough time left," he whispers, kissing my temple.

I tighten my arms around him, wanting to squeeze the sadness out of him. It drips from his voice like a wilting rose. Each note peels back a little more of his vulnerability. The pain he's trying so desperately to hide.  

Time doesn't enjoy breaking the rules as much as love does. Love will impede on your plans. Reduce your ability to breathe and think, until the room is spinning and that one person is all you can think about. Where love is a gamble, one that either breaks you or makes you, time continues to act selfishly, gobbling up the time and suffocating its victims. The clock ticks and resets itself, but never pauses.

It never gives us time, only takes.

"Dance with me," I say, breaking the silence. "Let's pretend we're standing beside the ocean again."

Sitting up, I hold my hand out, and I fight the sudden onset of tears. Watching Kal struggle to keep his composure is heartbreaking. When I married him, I never meant to cause so much heartbreak. To leave a gaping wound in his soul. "Please."

Kal takes my hand, threading his fingers through mine. His wedding ring is cool between my fingers. Then he helps me off of the bed.

My weight puts a lot of stress of my legs. Being confined to a hospital in addition to being physically weak will do that to you. Luckily, Kal holds me up; my feet bear little weight. Because of the IVs, all we can do is sway. Sway and think that all we've got is time. An infinite amount of time that stretches between now and tomorrow morning. Even if the clock continues to tick.

He keeps his forehead pressed against my shoulder. I can feel the tears soaking through the fabric of my pyjamas. For the past week, they've let me dress in oversized T-shirts to maximize comfort. The pain hasn't been horrible, but things are irritating me more and more as the days go by. Which is why this moment is so beautifully devastating to me. Unlike the waistband of my underwear, which digs too deep into my bony body, Kal's touch is lighter than a feather. He understands how and where to hold me. The boundaries of what's too little and what's too much.

I close my eyes, enjoying the heat of his hard body, and hum my favourite song. Time passes, despite this moment feeling infinite. Aside from the buzz of traffic and the humming of machines, the room is quiet. I try not to think about tomorrow. My stomach is a knotted ball of nerves, and I can feel the sadness weighing on my shoulders.

Tomorrow, I'll have to say goodbye to everyone.

I'm starting to hate goodbyes.

"How do you say goodbye to the person you love most?" Kal asks, breaking the silence.

Words can't formulate on my tongue. Goodbyes are never easy, no matter the situation. And I can't fathom what he's feeling right now. As I've said since the beginning, I'm the lucky one. My emotions will cease to exist once the procedure is over. I don't know how long his will linger on.

But I also believe some goodbyes never have to be spoken. After your life is over, I think you see everyone again. In a different world where everything is perfect and everyone is happy.

"Does it have to be goodbye?" I whisper, clutching him tightly. If I could, I would hug him so tight all his pieces would stick together again. "We'll see each other again some day. I believe that."

When he looks at me, Kal's face is red and his eyes are puffy. His cheeks are stained with tears. "Even if I do see you again, we never got enough time. We were supposed to create a life together."

I rest my palm against his cheek, wiping away he tears. "We created a life, Kal. It didn't last long and we're lacking some components, but it's our life. One year, thirty seconds, a single moment—time doesn't matter. All that matters is that I spent it with you."

He chokes on a sob. "This isn't how it was supposed to end."

"No," I whisper, running my fingers through his hair. "It should've ended differently."

Kal closes his eyes and leans into my palm, taking a deep, shaky breath.

"I love you," he whispers.

A tear slips down my cheek. "I love you, too."