Chapter Seven:
Cory awoke that morning to sunlight pouring in the hospital window. For a moment, he wondered why he had slept in his kitchen. Then he opened his eyes and remembered where he was. He got up from the hard chair and moved to his wife's side.
"Good morning, darling," he said as he kissed her warm lips. It was hard to believe she was dead, not just sleeping.
The door opened, and Topanga's parents came in and knelt at her bedside. More tears came.
The morning past quickly, as they sat around her bedside and wept, united by their grief and love for the beautiful young woman. To soon, it was noon. A doctor came into the room and began to transfer Topanga to the gurney to take her to the operating room. Cory pushed the doctor out of his way and lifted his wife on to the stretcher.
"I love you darling," he said, kissing her one last time and wiping his own tears from her cheek.
As the doctor wheeled her down to the operating room, Cory ran out of the room and chased him.
"I'm sorry Topanga, "he yelled, over and over until the door to the operating room shut in his face. He fell to the ground in the hallway, unable to shake the pain he felt. He sat there, thinking about how she was the lucky one. How could she die? How could she leave him?
His mother came and led him back to the now empty room.
"We'll make all the arrangement," she promised. "You just go home, the nurse will give you some medicine. Don't worry about a thing."
"Wait," he said, running down the hallway and out to his car. He came back with the gift box from the jeweler. "Make sure she's wearing this."
His mother held him in her arms and rocked him again. He felt as if he'd aged twenty years and gone back twenty years all at one time. The nurse gave him a shot, and his mother drove him home as he slept in the back seat.