5 // 365

Vera hated to be home; even with Connor so close she knew that she was there alone. The only noise that would make its way from Connor’s room and melt down the hallway to find Vera’s ears was the soft beep of Connor’s heart monitor followed by the breathy swish of his respirator. For seven years, Vera had watched the man she loved fade away. She was sure that his body was hollow now and that his soul had left her long ago. It had been a week since the last time she had found herself sitting in the dark purple chair by his bed side with her hands folded in desperate prayers and she was almost ashamed. People expected her to be there with him, just as frozen in time and in this house as her husband was. Things were different in the beginning; when Connor could still talk to her and squeeze her hand in reassurance. Vera had spent countless hours sitting in the chair then. She was there as Connor spent the last of his time reassuring her that he was going to get better and she was there when his soothing promises to her turned into pleas for death to God. His suffering had seemed endless, but even his cries of pain were comforting to her because it meant that his heart was still beating. Eventually, Connor closed his eyes and never opened them again. Vera refused to give up though. She stayed perched in the chair for two years, rarely moving; If Connor was going to open his eyes, the first person to see his slate gray irises would be his wife. Vera had only now come to terms with the fact that it was her own selfishness that had kept Conner’s comatose body in her home when she should have long ago given him peace. Vera had spent the last seven days skimming old photo albums and forcing buried memories of happiness to resurface while the sound of Connor’s laugh in home movies played in the background. She was well aware that saying goodbye would break her in two, but she couldn’t hold onto an empty casing of who Connor used to be. Tears slipped from her hazel eyes as her fingers glided over the pages and she lost herself in the past.

A shadow of someone who was once a man watched Vera from beside her on the couch. As she touched each photo, his own recollection of the event would spring forth and his heart would shatter when the tears brimmed at her eyes. Connor’s soul had been detached for over two years with the inability to leave his body that had yet to die. At first, the resentment towards Vera’s helplessness to let him go that filled him was overwhelming, and he spent days following her through the house begging for her to turn the machines off. The frustration of not being heard was causing hatred to grow within him, but the more he heard Vera’s prayers for him the more he began to love her again. His re-found love for her made his urges to leave her dwindle slowly away and he found joy in being able to stand beside her in even silently.  He would sit with his wife as she drank coffee in the mornings and as she read herself to sleep at night, sometimes in the chair next to Connor’s bed. He had memorized things about her that he had never noticed before: the way she closed her eyes when she heard her favorite song begin or the way she could sit for hours while starring at the rain outside. He loved to watch his wife as she ran her bath water and lit lavender candles. She would undress in front of the mirror, fretting over her aging body, and then she would slip beneath white bubbles. He knew it was an attempt for relaxation but she always ended up crying. Connor had learned to spend his days by watching Vera live, but he had never given thought to loneliness that she must have felt. 

Vera closed the album abruptly and stood. Connor felt the change in her and panic rushed him. He followed her down the hall and towards his bedroom.  He couldn’t let her say goodbye yet. 

“Vera, stop!” his voice was cracking.  Vera paused in his doorway and Connor rushed passed her; positioning himself protectively between her and his body. 

“Don’t do this. It can be like this. I’m alright living this way, Vera. I love you and I know that you love me. Don’t say goodbye. Please…” He knew she couldn’t hear him, but he had to try. She walked through him and hesitated by his bedside. She bent down and whispered, “I love you, Connor. I have to do this though; I have to move on now.” 

“I can’t move on, Vera. I’m not ready to die.” 

Vera kissed Connor and pressed her forehead into his as she said goodbye. She reached down and picked up the power strip that had kept Connor in her life for so long now. She curled her fingers around it and pulled it into the bed with her as she slipped beneath the blankets beside her husband. Her finger hovered above the button and Connor filled with dread. 

“Vera, Vera! Don’t do this. I can’t be without you—…” Darkness surrounded him as he heard Vera begin to sob.