White Roses

Sitting on her bed, her eyes turned red to have too much cried, Angela was recalling the events of these last few days. Everything had happened so quickly, so brutally. She still didn't realized, and had trouble coping. Each souvenir brought her back the 3 days earlier, where everything was normal. A morning like any other.

-- Hello Tony!
-- Hello Angela! What do I get you this morning?
-- Just juice and coffee, thank you Tony.
-- Any time boss.
Both laughed, taking advantage of this moment they were still alone, to extend their intense gaze.
Samantha and Mona appeared, followed by Jonathan. The breakfast took place in a good mood
When they were ready to go:
-- Tony, tonight I will try to get home sooner.
-- Oh… sooner eh? A particular reason?
-- No… No reason… I just want to enjoy a little more time with my family, that's all. See you tonight.
Angela came out smiling. For several days, words were mixing in her head, ideas. The anniversary of Sam and Tony's arrival was coming around the corner. Already 7 years. It might be time to confess her feelings. Tonight will be finally the right time. Why? Her instincts told her.
In the evening, when she returned from work, it is an empty house, plunged into darkness, which welcomed her. Nobody. Not even the children.
Mona, who left the office earlier, suddenly pushed the door of the kitchen.
-- Where is Tony? The dinner isn't ready. I'm hungry.
-- He probably had to run an errand; he should be here any minute.
-- I hope so. I don't know how long I could hold.
-- Please Sam, I promise you that I won't embarrass you this time.
-- No way!
Samantha and Jonathan, bickering as usual, made their entrance.
-- Don't insist, Jonathan.
-- What's going on again between the two of you?
-- Sam doesn't want to take me with her to the Shopping Centre tomorrow.
-- The last time he wanted to impress a girl, and found himself with soda going out of his nostrils.
-- Jonathan!
-- What?! It was my last resort to make her to notice me.
-- What's for dinner?
-- Nothing for the moment your father didn't get home yet.
-- Angela you're kidding? I've seen him hours ago, he was coming back home directly, because he had planned a special meal that would take hours to cook.
-- You're sure?
At the same time, the phone rang.
-- Hello? Yes Tony Micelli lives here. But for the moment he isn't there, I can take a…
A long silence took hold of the room. The family saw Angela's face fade. The handset in hand, the young woman sank little by little in cotton. The only words she managed to say was: "We're coming right now." Hanging up the phone, and with a dash voice without emotion:
-- Tony had a serious car accident. He is in hospital.
-- My God!
-- No… Dad… How is he?
-- They didn't want to tell me more and asked us to come as soon as possible.
With these words, her eyes misted over and her voice broke. They had to react quickly. She took the keys of her car, put on the desk a few minutes earlier, and all together, they took the road to the hospital. On the way, the tears kept flowing; without restrain. From time to time, she peeped in the mirror, to see Sam, drying her eyes, while setting the horizon. Tony was fine. He should go well. For Sam, for her, for everyone. The contrary was impossible to conceive. What would their lives be without him?
The nurse at the reception made them wait; a doctor would come to talk to them. "But was it serious? Would he be fine?" The only reply they got was "I can't say anything; the doctor will come to speak to you." Wasn't that kind of sentence that was said when the situation was really serious? The only thing that nurses had permission to say not to panic families? They were going insane, turning in circles, without having news. Angela was pacing up and down, not controlling her nerves. A man, with salt and pepper hair, wearing a white blouse, came with a lively step.
-- Mrs. Micelli, good evening, I'm Dr. Brooks.
Without even taking the trouble to clarify that she was not Mrs. Micelli, that Tony was not her husband, Angela rushed at him with questions.
-- Calm down, please. If you don't let me speak, I couldn't answer you.
-- How is my father, Dr?
Samantha had approached, her face anxious.
-- Mr Micelli's car has been badly hit by another vehicle. The shock was extremely violent. Several organs were affected. The liver, spleen and one of the broken ribs punctured the lung. He….
As the list of injuries was getting longer, Angela lost footing. Se heard the voice of Dr. Brooks moving away while her legs shirked under her. She dropped on the seat behind, breathing hard. Looking ups, she saw Sam covering her face with her hands, trying to maintain control of herself. Mona frozen like a statue, livid, eyes in a vacuum and Jonathan trying to manage the situation as he could.
-- ... the next few hours will be decisive.
-- Can we see him?
Samantha managed to articulate these few words, as well as she could.
-- Yes, you can see him . But I have to warn you that he is under respirator and unconscious. I would not like you to have a shock when you see him.
Dr. Brooks led them to the intensive care, where was Tony. Angela could not imagine her life without him. What will they become? And Samantha? She could not bear the idea of losing him forever. Tony was the man of her life and she never told him she loved him. Why? All good reasons she had found so far, seemed ridiculous today. Now that Tony was between life and death. Yet this morning, she decided she would say it to him tonight. Her instinct had dictated it to her, as a premonition.

He appeared suddenly, lying behind the glass, in the darkness of this room, too large. Seeing this show, Jonathan turned heels and ran away. Angela was about to catch him up, but Mona came between. Trying to suppress a sob:
-- Leave him alone, Angela. He must express his sorrow in his way. I'll see how he's doing.
An excuse not to confront the reality? Possible, "she said to herself. This was only Samantha and her, now. Angela took the hand of the girl, gripped it with strength and courageously both entered Iin the room, where the noise of the respirator and tone of the cardiac monitor offered a sordid concert. Tony was facing them in that bed too small, connected on both sides in many pipes. She felt the pressure suddenly exerted by Samantha in her hand. Her breathing became crying and she was burst into tears. Angela also drifted, taking the girl in her arms.
-- I know… I know my dear.
-- I don't want him to… die.
-- He will get fine… My God made him be fine.
In turn they sit up. Mona, income to bring news of Jonathan who had remained in the cafeteria, has left again immediately, claiming to go having a coffee. This image of Tony was unbearable for her.
This was the turn of Angela to sit up. She moved the heavy chair closer to the bed and sat down. Observing Tony's face, marked by the violent shock, she felt her throat tighten. The memories of their happiness burst in her head. Some laughs, cries of joy, resounded like an endlessly echo. This man so full of life, this man so young, dancing while he was taking her in his muscular arms, making her swirling around until they can't no more.
Delicately, she slipped his hand into hers. Knackered, she burst into tears. Their violence was such that she had trouble breathing. Her face flooded with tears, was disfigured by pain.
-- I beg you, don't leave me. Please… I have so many things to tell you… Things that I never dared to confess….
She approached her inert hand of her mouth and kissed it so hard that her teeth dig painfully her lips. Now the tears, stretched till the hand of Italian.
-- Tony I love you… I always loved you… I wanted to tell you for so long. Today it may be too late. If you knew how I feel gulty.
His hand against her wet cheek, she was still sobbing in silence, when she felt a slight movement against her skin. Did she dream? Then another. No she did not dream. It was a good sign, huh? Before she can realise, Tony's body was taken to violent shaking. Of all her forces she screamed for help, leaving running in the hallway looking for a doctor. A group of white blouses and bustled about quickly running around the bed of the injured man. The monitor beeps threw into a panic. One of the doctors imbeded a needle in the perfusion and the body calmed down. Angela, dropped in the middle of the room, was in shock. She felt the beat of her heart against her temples, here legs were shaking. Everything seemed to calm down when suddenly a strident sound pierced her eardrums. Again the white blouses bustled about, grabbing the defibrillator. A nurse turned to her.
-- You can not stay here.
And she led her in the corridor. The eyes toward the window, she saw the body of Tony becoming bowed as doctors pined two large blocks of metal against his chest. At each bumpiness, Angela jumped, her hands pressed against her mouth, trying with all her strength not to scream. The family ran out of breath and arrived when the white window shade slide along the pane that separated them from Tony.
-- Angela what's happening?
The young woman opened her mouth, but was unable to speak.
-- Angela?

Angela got up, slipped into a floating to the mirror up on foot, admire herself a moment, smoothing her black robe, her hands moist. Her stomach, once again, contracted. She rushed into the bathroom, a hand stuck against her mouth.
Her stomach finally relieved, she put some water on the face and breathed deeply. Would she be strong enough?
Bumbling slightly, she examine one last time her reflection, before exiting.
In a heavy silence, the procession evolved, oppressed by the pain. Finally, in front this gaping hole, the all family overhung this oak box. Hand in hand, the four of them get together for a final farewell. A last farewell to the man they loved. The man who had given everything, sacrificing himself every day, for their happiness. Angela felt her face burning. The tears had already run too much. She had just lost the one she loved, whom she has never been able to say "I love you", and that won't ever know it. Jonathan, his head against her shoulder, wept silently. She felt Samantha tightening slightly her hand. Samantha, devastated by grief, and who found herself all alone in the world. With their eyes, they followed the slow descent of this box, rocked by the psalms of the priest.
In a weary gesture, Angela launched a few white roses, which quietly went crashing against the rectangle of wood.
-- Tony Micelli, those few white roses represent my love for you. May you rest in peace.
Closing her eyes, she left herself rocked by the gentle music of their last dance.