My name is Ruthie. Ben calls me Ruth or sweetheart.
You see, Ben is my young, sweet husband. We're coming on three years of marriage, you see? Three years ago, Ben was injured badly. We didn't think he'd survive, but somehow, miraculously, he did. The injury to his abdomen was severe; we were dealin' with blood loss.
Somehow, like I said, he mysteriously pulled through. I think it was all thanks to me an' Libby, who stayed by his side, takin' care of him. I read newspaper clippings to him, hummed songs, anythin' to keep his spirits high. During that time though, I fell for him even harder. I can recall one night.
Ben was stable; he was now able to sit up for hours on end. This was quite the improvement, a week earlier; he was finally able to eat solid foods again. I marveled at this, because a month earlier, he was bedridden. After sitting for hours, he was mighty exhausted. I helped him out of the chair, and we slowly moved him to the bed nearby. Ben sat down, and slowly, and carefully he laid himself down. I placed the covers over him, and he looked into my eyes and smiled.
Without saying a word, he grabbed my hand which still lay against the covers, and held it in his own. I didn't know what to think. He had never done that before…I had known him nearly a year, and never did he look into my eyes the way he did, or hold my hand.
Finally he spoke. Using what energy he had, he mouthed the words, "I love you."
Standing there, I was speechless. A few months ago he would have ran away. He couldn't though. Still much too weak, he needed his rest.
I smiled.
"I…love you too." I choked out, tears streaming down my face. He smiled.
"Don't cry… it pains me to see you cry. I'll be alright." Ben mouthed, his voice barely there, but I could hear it.
"I know you will." I said, sniffling. Reaching his hand up, he lightly touched my face, attempting to brush the stray tears away. Carefully, I placed my hand on his.
The moment just felt right.
He grasped it in his own, and held it. From that day forward, we were inseparable.