Friday, May 21, 2010

Part 7

He slammed the door to his office. Lydia and he had a talk that pissed him off last night over a drink while he was waiting for Libby to be back from her work. He just refused to believe it. It was too absurd.

His mom had called, too, inviting him over for the weekend, and when he said he’d talk to Libby, his mom had told him the exact same thing that Lydia had told him. Noooooo! He will never believe them! Not in a million years!

And yet...

“Accept it my friend, your wife is dead! People call you crazy. I can no longer let them do so. This has gone on for too long!” Remy’s voice hit his heart like a bullet would. His nostrils flared to keep up with his laborious breathing. They’d struggled in his office, because he’d punched Remy’s face the first time he said those damned words. His wife is NOT dead!

“Do you remember the accident that happened nearly two years ago? Well, she survived the crash, but she was gone in the hospital. She’d left us all,” Remy continued, gently wiping away the trickle of blood at the corner of his lips.

When Remy wanted to start again, he hushed his best friend. He stared at Remy long and hard from where he was standing. Finally, he picked up his coat said “You’re lying,” to Remy and left the office.
He drove around aimlessly for nearly an hour before he stopped in front of the hospital where she worked. He found an empty parking spot right beneath a tree and went inside, to the ward where he knows he’ll find his wife. She’s in her morning shift today, so he was expecting to be able to see her. He’ll prove to Remy that his wife is alive and well. Remy is so wrong about her being dead. How could she be, when she cooks him dinner every night and fall into bed with him and wake up right next to him the nest day? How could she be dead when her sweet smell is all over their home?

Just as he was entering the ward, he bumped into the specialist who had treated Libby after her accident a couple of years ago.

“Oh, hey, Dr. John. Do you remember me, Libby’s husband?” he asked, after apologising.

A flicker of doubt, then a smile of recognition after several heartbeats appeared on the kind doctor’s face. “Of course I remember you. How do you do?”

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. He needed to clear this up once and for all. So, he took a deep breath, and, while crossing his fingers, said “Doctor, could we please talk? About Libby?”

The doctor looked curious, but he nodded and showed him to his office. “This way, please,”


to be continued...

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