He sits down in the seat and runs his hands through his hair, then drives his head into the table, letting out a groan.
“Was that necessary?” She asks.
“Yes,” he replies as he sits back up in his seat and looks over the papers in front of him, then towards her.
“So this is what you really want?”
“You know it is, it’s been leading this way for months, I think it’s the only way for me to be happy, to be finally free,” she says as her eyes well up, he nervously reaches out to her, clutching her hand, but she quickly pulls away grabbing a tissue from the table and wiping her eyes.
“Okay,” he says softly as he picks up the pen, signs the papers and places it back down, leting out a sigh of relief. “What are we going to tell the kids?”
He laughs as he gets up from his seat and goes over to the fridge, grabbing a can of beer from it and cracking it open, he takes a large mouthful before wiping his mouth, then looks over to her.
“I remember when I first met you, in that little souvenir shop in France, it was like destiny had deliberately positioned both of us in the same spot at the same time.”
She laughs, “You couldn’t speak a word of French and the little man behind the counter was getting as frustrated as you were,” she says.
“Twenty- three years ago that was, twenty- three years and look at us now, look at the life we’ve built together?”
“We’ve both grown up, a lot,” she says as she slowly gets up from her seat. “It’s been a good life, we’ve been happy, and the kids,” her bottom lip trembles and he rushes to her side, hugging her, she lets her tears flow, as does he.
“It doesn’t have to be this way, we can fight,” he says through the tears.
“I can’t, I’ve fought too long, it’s best this way, it’s the way it needs to end, happy, not in some hospital, connected up to a thousand different tubes forced into my body, I want to go peacefully, happy, surrounded by my family, not unconscious and unable to tell the people I love, that I do.”
“How long will it take?” He asks, looking towards the older gentleman who sits at the end of the table.
“Seconds, that’s all, it’ll be painless, she’ll just go to sleep, and then all the pain will be gone, she will be able to finally rest.”
He looks at his wife, this woman who has for the last twenty-three years been his strength, his rock, his soul mate, his everything and kisses her on the forehead.
“I love you, I always will, I’d fight, I’d do anything, if I could take your place, I’d take your cancer into me, I would, just so you wouldn’t have to do this. God, I feel so helpless, I feel like there’s more I could do, something,” he says as he clutches her close, the tears run down his face.
“I’ve fought so long, for you, for the kids, for myself, but I can’t fight it anymore,” she says as she pulls him away and looks, lovingly into his eyes, smiling, “It’s been a nice life, but I’m ready to go.”