The gallery was cold, but the room it looked over appeared cooler to him. Although he couldn't smell it, Lucas imagined the smell of cleanliness, but it did nothing to calm him. His wife, Peyton Scott, lay on the table below, and he looked down as several doctors meticulously operated on her. They'd just married, and everything had gone beautifully until they returned home and Peyton hit the floor.
Lucas had come in from the garage, having pulled the cover off of Peytons refinished car and called for her. "Peyton? Mrs. Scott?" he'd called, and that's when he saw her, near lifeless, lying in the trail of rose petals he'd laid out for them. "Stay with me," was all he could tell her, and all he knew was that he couldn't lose her.
On the way to the hospital, the only thing Lucas could think about was his To-Do list. He'd planned and carried out everything perfectly from the moment he woke up on his wedding day. From the carefully fitted tux, to the flower arrangements, the return home, the car that took months to repair, he'd followed each step carefully, flawlessly. How could this happen? The last thing on the list was 'have our wedding night.' Why didn't they finish the list? He'd wrote a list, that's what lists were for. Peyton collapsing was not on the list.
As Lucas looked down and the clock ticked, he grew increasingly hopeful that she'd make it through, they were near done the surgery, and the sight of his newborn child gave him the purest of joys. He put his hand on the glass, smiling, "you can do this Peyton," he said, watching as his daughter was cleaned. When a nurse motioned for him to come down and take the baby, his heart started to pound. Beat by beat coursed through him as he took the steps two at a time, both nervous and excited to hold his newborn child. His new born child with Peyton Scott. When he finally arrived at the operating room doors, the nurse was already stepping out. "Someone is coming down from the nursery to settle you two into a room, wait here, I have to get back in there," she said, handing him the baby. Lucas was looking down and introducing himself happily to his daughter when the nurse swung the door open, and that was when his world came crashing down. He did his best to clutch the baby in one arm as his other arm pushed open the operating room door, searching for confirmation of the sound he'd heard. The doctors were taking off their gloves, each one of them looking at the man who'd just burst into their operating room. The nurses were beginning to pick up the gauze that was strewn across the tables and toss it in the trash. The room was filled with silence as Lucas fell to his knees, his daughter in his arms, and the steady beep of the monitor telling him Peytons heart had stopped beating. "Time of death," 8:47 PM."