A/N: Okay, last night was the first time I ever watched this show, and to be honest, I only watched it because of the amazingly talented Bernadette Peters, who portrayed Sarabeth. That's why this is probably the only fic I will write for this show, in honour of Bernadette Peters.
"But he left you, um, this letter." the young nurse said, showing it to her.
"I'm not interested."
The words left her mouth with little hesitation. Her mind was working furiously, trying to make sense of everything. Not only had her husband Michael lost his job eight months ago, he was also having an affair with Anna, her best friend. What had she done to make him want to leave her? Had she not done enough? Was she not good enough?
So many questions, no answers. Her once-perfect life was falling apart at a rapid pace, and she could do nothing to prevent it. She didn't handle the finances, Michael did that, but she knew that there was some sort of problem with their insurance, that it expired soon, and accepting this was harder than she predicted.
The insurance wouldn't cover the expenses for the medical attention Michael needed, and he could never tell her what to do now. The horrible realization that her husband would never speak again was almost too much to bear. Then she found out about Anna. That was when she snapped.
Sarabeth had tried to be a good wife. She supported her husband in everything, was always there for him. She always made an effort to look presentable at his parties, even though her flaming red hair curled so much that it never looked quite right to her. She always kept a good house for him, always behaved prettily with his colleagues, was always polite to his company. What had gone so terribly long?
She made to leave, content to let the doctors and nurses do their job and—
"Sarabeth..."
She halted. The young nurse looked surprised with herself.
"Sorry, um, uh, that wasn't me, that was the letter."
The young nurse indicated the letter Michael had written and which Sarabeth posessed no interest in. Not wanting to be rude, Sarabeth turned, staring silently at the occupants of the room. The nurse saw her waiting and decided it would be best if she continued. As the nurse continued to read, Sarabeth glanced at the hospital bed her husband occupied, and found him looking at her. She supposed he was silently pleading, begging for her forgiveness.
" I've wanted to tell you a million times and let you know how truly sorry I am. But now I have no voice, so I'm begging you, please, if you could just listen with your heart..' That is so poetic. That-that was me, sorry, not him."
As she finished the letter, and walked away, Sarabeth recalled the words of the male doctor. It did't mean he didn't care about her, so she had to decide whether her forgiveness should be granted. She did, after all, still love Michael, and knew he loved her. Her choice was clear and she entered the hospital room once again and kissed the man she loved.
A/N: Okay, love it? Hate it? It's not great, but I wanted to write something from Sarabeth's POV. See that little purple button that says "Review"? Click it please. Flames will be used to make meat pies (new flavours added including Bernadette Peters-haters)