I could only feel my heart beating rapidly in my brain as I tiptoed slowly to the end of the corridor. I took some deep breaths to steady myself. And as I got to the door- that black rectangular shape at the end of the corridor my breath stopped and hitched in my throat. Was I really about to do this? I pulled down the handle left the door swing open gently before then shuffling in.

The room smelt of hospital and sweat and sickness, which is what I mentally felt I needed right now as I walked through that door.

But then I saw him-

My husband; Joe. He was lying motionless on the hospital bed and wired up to a machine monitoring his heart and stuff.

Suddenly I just became aware of a nurse beside me as they said “Go to him.”

My feet shuffled over to him hesitantly- like walking through quicksand or concrete. When I ,ade it to the side of his bed, I store down at him.

My beautiful Joe.

The nurses and doctors had said he had been involved in some accident and it led to him falling into a coma. The doctors still aren’t sure how long he’ll be under for they hope for a few days but it’s been a week now. A week now of sobbing in my- our dogs fur at home comptemplating and hoping he would make it and a week since we last spoke. The last thing we did was argue. If I could do so now I would take it back and replace it for a hundred ‘I love yous’ and more.

I felt a tear then threatening to fall at the thought. “Oh Joe,” I said, “You silly bastard! Come home. Please!” I slipped his hand in mine and it felt like home but yet alien somehow. I looked down at it in mine- there was a scar that ran from the back of his hand to the back of his knuckles. I traced it with my thumb before placing it to my mouth and holding it there, pressed against my lips.

I glanced over at Joe- at his handsome God-like face and all I wanted was for him to sit up or for someone to pinch me and for me to wake up and discover it had all been a dream sequence. Not the case for us unfortunately.

Then, dropping his hand- yet still holding it in mine. I stood and leaned over his bed and softly i np bent down to kiss him. His lips were soft like toffee and even now in a coma he still tasted the same- of mint, and coffee and burnt bacon with chocolate. His taste. I laughed spite myself.

“I love you Joe.” I said.

I kneeled next to his bed after that and talked to him for maybe half an hour to an hour about anything- when I got up to leave I said “I love you Joe.” And then I was at home sleeping in my bed alone with just the dog.

“Goodnight, Daisy.” I said, praying to god that Joe would be more than okay. But fine. Really fine. And alive.