"I'm sorry," the doctor tells us, leaving the room.

Lucille wraps her arms around me and sobs uncontrollably.

All the stomach aches she's been having that they dismissed as a virus… well, it turns out to be pancreatic cancer. I'm not fucking naive. I know what this means. I'm losing my wife. Even with the surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy, it doesn't do anything but make her weak.

A piece of shit doesn't even really begin to describe me. While Lucille was dying, I was off fucking other women. Until one night, everything just stopped. That lustful part of me died completely. I know that I caused Lucille's cancer. Through some divine intervention maybe. My punishment for being about the worst human being on this planet. Who fucking cheats on their dying wife? Calling her my wife is something that I don't even deserve because, not but a few months ago, I was trying to file for divorce.

"Negan?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," I say, sliding into bed next to Lucille.

"S'okay. I'd be up puking in a little while regardless. Something wrong?"

"I… I ended it." Here her words are leaving my mouth.

"..."

Her silence really throws me for a loop. Maybe she doesn't believe me.

"Now?! You wait for this to end it?! Why?"

"I don't need it. I don't… want it anymore. I just want you. I just want us to be together."

"Well… you're not going to have that for very long. What's wrong with you? Why would you pick the sick one?"

I don't answer her question because I don't fucking know. If I had been there for her and not… if I didn't… would she had been strong enough to fight the cancer?

Maybe the question is, if I had been there for her, would she have wanted to fight?

The cancer really hardened her. I, however, became a complete vagina. I don't remember a meal with her or a walk in the park that didn't end up without me crying. And she'd be there telling me to knock it off. That I was making a scene.

I hold my wife's hand for the last time as I watch her numbers deplete on the monitor. Not even the best hospital five hours away from home could help. It's just… too late.

The most violent storm moves in that night. Chaos fills the hall. The backup generator has kicked on from the loss of power. All the madness outside is exactly how I feel inside.

The hospital door flings open. "Sir! Sir! We've evacuated this hospital! This area is not safe! You need to come with me!"

"What?!" Over some fucking rain? "I'm not fucking leaving my wife!"

"She's too sick to move, there's nothing we can do!"

When he touches me, I snap. "Get your fucking hands off me!"

"It's not safe here. Save yourself!"

I get up and go to the window as I draw back the curtains. It's not even raining. Where the hell is that thunder coming from? As I look to my right, one of the cars in the street explodes. People have lost their fucking mind, looting and running through the streets. "What the fuck…" Then I see something that I have never seen before. People on fire are just sluggishly walking through the street! "Those people… there's something wrong with them!" I look behind me when I hear a loud noise.

"Run, man! Run," a punk kid tells me.

I slam Lucille's door shut. "Fuck. What the fuck!?" There's a heavy dresser where the TV sits on that I strain to pull over to the door. The last thing I need is one of those firewalking people in this room. Fucking maniacs. "Shit, Lucille." I turn to face her. "Probably best you're sleeping through this. Should all be over… by the time you… wake up." All the generators have failed by now. I touch my index and middle finger to her neck to feel for a pulse.

I think I held her limp hand for three hours as I sit on the floor beside her bed. Hoping she'll wake up and I won't be alone. My ass is so numb, and that's the only reason that I get up. As I start to rise, I hear more chaos in the street. "Fucking shit…" You have got to be shitting me. People are… eating each other in the fucking streets! The bodies of the dead are being feasted on by the living. Christ, is it airborne?! Am I infected? Is that what got Lucille? Maybe she never even had cancer. I need a doctor. I need to get-

"Guh..." Lucille reaches for me. "Guh. Guh."

Thank god she's awake. My eyes widen as she throws herself from the bed and hits the floor. "Lucille?!" I try and help her roll over. "Lucille?! Are you ok?! I thought you were- I thought you'd-"

She hisses at me as her jaw becomes unhinged.

I trip over my own feet and back into the wall. "Lucille?!" What the fuck! Jesus fuck. This can't be happening. This is a goddamn nightmare. Oh my god. What if I died in that fucking car accident and this is hell!?

Her face… she's got missing teeth from hitting the floor and her eyes are sunk in. Her flesh is a gray decaying color. She's not even making any sense. Just grunts and growls. "You're not… do you? It's me. It's your husband."

She tries to bite my fucking hand!

After all this time. All this fucking time, my tears decide they're going to fall. Probably because of what a fucking coward I'm about to become. I lean over and place a kiss on top of her head. "I'm sorry." I take in Lucille one last time before picking myself up and leaving my wife in that hospital room to rot…

A/N I will have another update in a few days. This chapter was Lucille's.