A Wife for Sherlock Holmes
Chapter 6 – What Goes Around Comes Around
It was after dark when Sherlock noticed his wife had come back. John had come back much sooner. John had at least spoken to him. Mrs. Hudson had come upstairs to fetch the laundry and a few other things. Sherlock had heard her and paid her no mind.
Sherlock heard his wife before he saw her. He watched her. She had ear buds in her ears and was carrying a laundry basket on her hip. All the laundry had been carefully pressed and folded, but noticed it was not all his laundry. Half of it was his wife's.
He was about to move toward her, but he looked at her. Her face was expressionless as she carried the basket into the room. He could clearly hear it. He looked at John. "What the hell is she listening to?"
"Knowing her? Likely French death metal or Rammstein." He said.
"What?" Sherlock looked toward the open door. "How is she not deaf?"
"Likely drowning out the noise she hears."
"What noise?"
"People telling her to shut-up and so forth." John said looking at him.
Sherlock opened his mouth to protest and then clapped it shut. He sighed and walked into the room. She was putting his slacks and socks in the right drawers. She then set about hanging his other shirts up. He leaned against the wall watching her. He knew full well she knew he was there.
"Mari…do you think you could turn that down before you lose your ability to hear?" He asked.
She paused as she lifted a blouse of her own, lifting her phone from her pocket. A second later she put it back in her pocket and continued.
His phone chimed. What do you want?
He shook his head. Your attention for starters. SH
She finished with the clothing and wiped her brow and looked at his message. He was not sure how she heard it chime. She glared at the phone. You have it or at least as much as I am going to give you.
Why are you texting and not speaking? I am five feet away from you. SH
Oh you want me to talk now. Several hours ago I could not even eat without it bothering you. Her eyes looked up at him as she moved toward him. She remained silent, the look of anger made him ache a little. He was utterly unused to be called on his wrong doing. She dropped the basket at his feet where it went and straightened. She wiped her brow again and lifted her Mp3 player and changed to another song.
He winced. He could hear the words. He did not understand many of them.
That was silly of me. I am sorry. Forgive me. I didn't think you would take them so hard. I wasn't really walking to you. SH
She read and snorted as her eyes narrowed. There are times when you are like a child. You should think about your words before you say them Mr. Holmes. She clicked send looking up at him, her eyes narrowed as she walked passed him.
He took a deep breath and read the text as he watched her retreating form. He had apologized. That in itself was odd for him. He could not understand why she was still angry with him. She leaned down and paused her music a moment. She leaned down and spoke to John and then walked toward the steps.
John sighed as he took the Mp3 player and pulled it into his laptop. Sherlock walked out of the room, his brow furrowed. He would never understand women and this one especially. He sighed and looked at John.
"What did she say?"
"She was thinking to go out."
Sherlock hissed. "I need to speak to her."
"I would wait until she is done being angry."
"Well how long will that take?"
"Who knows she is a woman." John shrugged.
The door opened and shut and Sherlock rolled his eyes and lifted his violin.
ZzZ
It was around midnight when she returned.
He had sent several texts. He looked at his phone as though he wanted a reply, but none came. She was ignoring him. Frankly it unnerved him. He of course ignored people at times, but God help him. His wife ignoring him when she was upset, alone, and away from him was more than he could take. He looked down again and read his texts.
Where are you going? SH
Are you alright? You have not answered? SH
Mrs. Hudson made some lovely stew. You should come home. We cannot possibly eat it all. SH
Mari. Please Answer me. I am starting to worry. SH
Nothing. However, she had sent a text to John informing him she would be home late. Sherlock had accepted that, for now, as answer enough. She needed space. He could accept it. At least for a little while…
Sherlock was sitting in the chair idly strumming his violin waiting for her. She walked up the stairs and let out a slow breath seeing him there. His eyes lifted to look at her. The fireplace snapped as they looked at each other in silence a moment.
She then shook her head and turned to hang up her coat. Her eyes were still red rimmed from crying much of the day. However, as she walked he noticed her hand go to her belly in a soft gesture. She walked into the bedroom at dropped to the bed.
He followed her, putting his violin down. He looked at her as she uncoiled her hair after removing her hijab. Loose it hung about her shoulders and he itched to touch it. He came to her. He needed to be forgiven. He did not totally understand his offense, but he needed to hear her forgive him for it. He felt utterly lost as he came to her as she brushed the thick locks out.
In his dress shirt and not his suit jacket, he knelt before her looking up at her, waiting for her to acknowledge him. Her hand slowed and she looked and then down, startled he was on the floor before her.
"What…?"
"Mari…" He whispered her name like a prayer. "Habibti." He said softly a hand lifting to her delicate cheek. His hand was warm, the long fingers gently against her.
Her eyes closed a moment and then she leaned against his palm. He had never called her anything close to that. Never, not once. Now he was calling her sweetheart in Arabic. He had to have researched it.
"I am fine, Sherlock." She said. She sounded utterly exhausted. He swallowed and looked up at her unsure what to do. She smiled a little. He was completely helpless and at her mercy. Something he was utterly not used to at all. He was baring part of his soul and she leaned forward to kiss his nose gently.
"I…I was worried." He offered really unsure what to say. He had never, not once been in the position he was in now. He looked up at her, his eyes rimmed a little with exhaustion and pain.
She touched his cheek lightly. "I am fine Sherlock."
"You didn't answer my texts. I had no idea where you were…"
"Hush. I am here now." She looked at him. She realized then. If anything happened to her, it could very well break him. She gently wrapped her fingers around his neck. She leaned closer and kissed him her hands working up into his curly hair.
She giggled and tumbled into his arms. He reached back to catch himself and gave up, laying down, his wife in his arms as they kissed deeply, his hands wondering her back. He reached up and over, shutting the door with a click as he turned to look at it.
Her hand turned his head back to her as she searched his face. He caressed hers and kissed her, sitting up, bringing her with him. He shifted her so her legs were to either side of his hips, his hands were on her bottom, holding her to him as her hands rested on his shoulders. He looked up at her as he tucked his legs under her and smiled.
"You know, I am starting to get used to having a home life. I really like coming home to you." He smiled as he tucked a loose lock of hair back.
She smiled. "I accept that for an apology." She said and kissed him deeply.
He smiled a little as his hands worked to pull her blouse from her skirt. "By the by, wife. Did you know I have heard a delicious rumor?" He said looking at her his green eyes narrowing with arousal.
She giggled as his warm hands began to wonder and work at her clothing. "And what is that, Mr. Holmes?"
"That make-up sex is the best you can have."
She laughed as he looked at her hungrily and shifted her gently to the soft rub they were seated on.
ZzZ
December 1 2010
Marion pulled the cookies out of the oven. She had made a dozen for the cookie exchange she was going to be on. It was nearing Christmas, only twenty-five days to go. The first snow that had fallen and stayed for more than a day had fallen two days ago. Her belly was larger now and she no longer could hide her condition, so she embraced it, wearing clothing that did nothing to hide, but rather made it clear she was in a tasteful way.
She put the cookies on the counter and turned off the oven. She was quite proud of herself. The party would be nice to be with female friends, something Sherlock distained, but had accepted her going to provided she made him a couple extra cookies.
She rubbed a hand over her brow. She was very warm. She smiled looking at the cookies as she moved to start making the frosting. She touched her finger to it. It was good frosting. She smiled. Sherlock would love these cookies. A hint of champagne and cinnamon. She smiled. For a man who did not eat much, he loved his sweets.
They had grown closer, at least somewhat in the couple months they had been together. Now at five months along, he seemed more protective of her, not wanting her to be on her own. However, he had also learned to allow her the time with her own friends. She needed to deflate at times and he understood that now after their long talk that night she had returned to him after their row. He still could be somewhat cold and unfeeling, but he was a good man and was at least trying to make an effort to be a good husband, even if he really had no idea how.
She took a step back suddenly feeling a little faint. She pressed a hand to her sweaty brow and felt suddenly very warm. She went to the sink and splashed water on herself, but then felt like ice. She blinked. What the hell?
She fell, dropping to floor in a heap, her head being cut on the way down. She lay motionless on her side on the floor.
She was in a pool of her own sticky blood when Mrs. Hudson and John Watson arrived from shopping.
"Mari, I saw your car, where are you?" John asked looking about the flat. "The cookies look amazing, might I steal one?" He teased.
Mrs. Hudson then let out a shriek and dropped down in the kitchen. "Marion!"
John moved quickly to her, kneeling beside Mari. The blood was a lot, but then head wounds bled terribly. "Mari, sweetheart, can you hear me?" He gently tapped her face. He then looked up at Mrs. Hudson. "Can you fetch my bag?" He asked, his fingers to Mari's neck.
There was a pulse and she was breathing, but her breaths were shallow. He shook his head a little lifting her sticky hair up to look at the wound by her temple. He looked up and saw the corner of the counter had blood and red hair stuck to it.
She nodded and brought it. He pulled out his stethoscope and pressed it to her chest and then her abdomen. "Is she well?"
"She lives, but she is not waking. Call an ambulance will you?" He listened more to Mari's abdomen and then smiled a little hearing the fast heartbeat of the baby. It seemed well and not in distress, but they needed to have Mari seen for, at the very least, stitches.
She nodded and went to do just that as John gently touched his best friend's wife's face. Mrs. Hudson returned. "They are on the way."
He nodded. "I think she may have a concussion." He sighed. "If I could wake her…" He looked at her and then he pressed his hand to her cool skin. She twitched a little and then her eyes fluttered. "Mari…Can you see me?" He asked as her eyes opened a little.
"John…" A soft voice whimpered.
"Mari…" He said taking her hand. "Can you hear me?"
"Hurts…" she whimpered her hand going to her head. He caught it in his.
"Don't. You are bleeding rather badly. Do you remember when you started the cookies?"
"Cookies…" Her eyes flew open. "The party, I must…" she sat up, but then her hands went to her head and he eased her back.
"No, I think you need to stay where you are, sweetheart. I am sure they will forgive you. Rest. Talk to me."
"I…how am I on the floor?" She asked looking up at the counters.
"That is what I am trying to understand." He smiled gently pulling some of her hair from the blood of the wound. She winced as it tugged on the clotting wound. "Sorry." He said gently. He looked at it closely. It was not going to stop on its own. He pressed a towel to her head and she gasped in pain. "I know, but we need to get it stopped." He reached down. "Here take my hand."
She squeezed it and shut her eyes feeling a touch nauseous.
The paramedics arrived. "Where is the lady?" The first asked.
Mrs. Hudson pointed.
"Hello. I am Doctor Watson." John said looking up. Her blood was coating his fingers. "This is Marion Holmes, thirty, five months pregnant. She took a nasty spill. Suspected concussion and possible fetal distress. I want to make sure she gets looked at."
They nodded taking her blood pressure and putting in an IV. The woman winced as it went into her hand. John looked at her. "I know Darling. You will feel better soon."
The paramedics then put a backboard under her with a neck brace and strapped her on. She was immobile and looking about. They then lifted her onto the gurney and strapped her down with a blanket as John held the fluid bag up. "John?" She whimpered.
"It's okay. I am going with you, honey." He said patting her shoulder lightly as he pressed the cloth to her head still.
The group moved down the stairs and out into the cool afternoon with snowflakes fluttering about. John set the bag down on her as they pushed her into the ambulance. He sighed as they made sure she was secure.
John looked at Mrs. Hudson. "Call Sherlock. Tell us to meet us at hospital." She stood at the door watching.
She nodded and he jumped in with them and spoke keeping her calm as they drove off.
"John."
"I'm here, Mari." He said softly as the ambulance moved and he hung up her bag on the gurney pole. He then settled as the door shut and he looked down shining a light into her eyes. She blinked. "Oh good news. I think you don't have a concussion, but you will have one hell of a headache."
"Like I don't already." She muttered.
He smiled a little. "Well your humor has been knocked out of you. That is good."
The paramedic gently looked her over as John and he kept her talking to them. "Are you alright, Mrs. Holmes?"
"Doctor." John said softly.
"Pardon?" The paramedic asked.
"She has a Ph.D. Doctor Holmes." He smiled as she looked up at him. "Hello, sweetheart. So tell me. What did you put in those delicious cookies?"
"Ummm sugar, milk, flour, cinnamon." She said. She blinked. She clearly had a headache and she blinked as a blood drip feel into her eye.
John flicked it away softly.
"Those sound lovely." The paramedic said. "Can I tell my wife? She is always looking for a good recipe."
"Sure." She said.
"Frosting?"
"Of course." She smiled a little.
The paramedic chuckled. "Naturally." He cocked his head. "And what was in that?"
"Well I started with some confectioner's sugar and champagne…"
ZzZ
Due to her being pregnant and arriving by ambulance she was taken to a room immediately. A doctor came in and looked her over and attached her to a fetal monitor. John sat beside her as the ambulance team and nurses moved her to a bed.
Arms freed John took her hand as they placed a warmed blanket on her. The doctor came in again and spoke to her and John. She had a history of syncope and the doctor informed them the baby was well. John's calm helped her to remain so as well, and the doctor had her sit up with the help of the bed.
He ordered stitches and some pain medication and then would do a couple other tests before sending her on her way. It was a scare and she needed to relax more.
John nodded. "Oh don't worry. With a doctor in the house, she will be having her feet up a lot."
"You are her husband then?"
"No, flatmate, but I will be keeping an eye on her. Dr. Watson."
"Ah. Very good." The doctor looked down at Mari. "They are going to take some blood and then get some more fluid in you. You have finished this bag so clearly you need more."
She nodded. "Okay." She looked at John. "Where is Sherlock?"
"Coming." He said touching her cheek gently. "I texted him a moment ago." He sighed. "Just relax and watch the telly a bit." He smiled gently at her.
A nurse came in and drew blood after several attempts at her veins. In the end, John had asked to have the butterfly. They stared at him incredulously and he shook his head saying he was an emergency surgeon formerly.
They relented and he warmed her hand with the blanket and then tapped the veins on her hand to make them rise. When he found his aim he tied a tourniquet around her arm watching her veins. He pulled on a glove with a snap and then found drove the small needle in. He smiled as he was rewarded with blood in the tube.
"Now now many you need."
The nurse nodded and handed him three large and two small. He filled them all and then nodded to Mari. "My brave little patient."
"I should have you do that all the time." Mari said watching him as he pulled it out and pressed a cotton ball to it. He then wrapped it with purple nonstick tape tightly and then sat back as he pulled off the glove.
"Thank you John." She whispered. "That one lady was a digger. It hurt."
He lifted her arm. Her elbow had a series of wraps and one had the bruise already extending outwards. "I know."
Another nurse came in with another with a stitch kit. John smiled up at them. "Want me to do that too?" He asked.
"That won't be necessary, Doctor, but thank you." The elder said. "At least this won't be difficult like her veins."
"I am sorry. They have been like that since I was a child." Mari said.
"It's alright dearie. This doctor has earned his stripes here." The woman smiled and then had Mari sit up and turn to her. John sat beside her. Supporting her and allowing her to lean on him. She was exhausted, he could see and a third nurse started more fluid for her.
The nurse cleaned the area and found fresh blood welling. "You did quite the job on yourself didn't you." She said. She put disinfectant on it. It stung and Mari winced. "Oh I know. Bear with me a bit. I am thinking about eight stitches." She looked over at John. "What do you think?"
"I would say eight to ten, yeah."
She nodded and smiled.
John held Mari's hand as she closed her eyes as the powerful light moved over her head so the nurse could see better. She then heard a noise at the end of the hall. John heard it to and he gently rose to his feet.
"Sir…you can't be here…" A nurse outside was saying.
"My wife is here. I must find her." A deep voice said. "Now if you would be so kind as to direct me to which room Mrs. or Doctor Marion Holmes is in, I will let you go about your business."
"Sir..we need to look for…sir…where are you going…? You can't…"
"I am looking for my wife." He said walking through some doors that someone had just walked out of.
"Sherlock?" Mari gasped. She looked at John. "He will be angry."
"Hush…" John said going to the door. "I will get him."
Sherlock dodged the nurses and one called security. The officers stood looking at him.
"You need to come with us sir."
"Certainly after I find my wife." Sherlock said spreading his hands.
John stepped forward and smiled looking at the officers. "It's okay. He is with us."
"John." Sherlock said. "How is she? Is her pulse irregular? Are they doing everything for her?"
John smiled at his concern. "She is fine. Just a crack on the head is all. She needs stitches…"
"Stitches?!" Sherlock gasped as John opened the door revealing the blood covered woman, seated on the bed, holding a suture scissor in her hand as the nurse tied off a stitch. Sherlock swallowed. She looked so small, her hair matted with blood, her cheek, chin, and cloth over her collarbone all bearing the evidence of her bleeding on them. "It isn't as bad as it looks, Sherl…"
"Mari…Mother of God." Sherlock gasped taking in her wound as it was being stitched together. He came to her and looked her over. "What happened?" He asked. He touched her cheek lightly looking at the wound.
"I was baking and…"
His finger lifted to her lips. "Have you done an x-ray and looked for a brain bleed?" He asked looking at the nurse. "This is the fourth time she has fainted while pregnant. There must be something wrong now if I could have your most competent doctor…"
"Sherlock…" Mari said reaching for him, but he looked at the nurse his green eyes wide in near panic.
"Sherlock…" John said trying to stop Sherlock as well.
"Are all the people in hospital so useless? Go. My wife's life hangs in the balance."
"Sherlock…" John said. He touched his friend's arm as Sherlock turned to his wife who was looking at him. "She is all right. She doesn't even have a concussion, just a bad cut that needs stitched." He said trying to rein in Sherlock's panic.
Mari lifted a hand to the nurse. "Pay him no mind. He is just excitable."
"Excitable?!" Sherlock hissed at her.
The nurse nodded understanding. "Many first time fathers are. I am not taking offense."
"Good." Mari looked at him. "Sherlock, calm down. I am fine. We are fine."
"That can't be. Something has to be wrong…"
"She has low blood sugar and low blood pressure. Quite common in pregnant women Mr…" A new voice said behind them as the doctor walked in. "We are getting her fluids now."
"Holmes. And who might you be?" Sherlock asked looking at him with narrowed eyes.
"Dr. Gerard. The attending. And you…"
"Holmes, her husband." Sherlock looked at him. "Have you run tests? Is the baby all right?"
"Yes. They are both quite well. You wife needs to take a bit more rest when she is feeling fatigued is all, Mr. Holmes."
Mari was watching Sherlock with adoration in her gaze. He cared. He really did care. He was pale and the look in his eyes made him look like a mad man. "Sherlock…" She whispered. She reached for his hand.
He turned to her as the nurse finished the stitches. She nodded turning off the light. "You will need to keep these dry a couple days, but it should heal soon. We can take them out in a week or so."
Mari nodded then. "Okay…"
"Mari…Habibati." He touched her cheek gently with his other hand, his long fingers bent, caressing her tenderly with his knuckles. She looked at him. His simple words, calling her sweetheart in Arabic, made her eyes mist over.
"I want to go home." She whispered. His tenderness broke her shell of trying to be strong. "I…" She started to have tears in her eyes. "It hurts…I want to go home. I hate hospitals." She whimpered. "Sherlock, please. No more." She begged.
He pulled her into his embrace and let her sob into his jacket as he sighed pressing a kiss into her hair away from the wound, but his nostrils still flared at the thick blood smell. "You heard her. When can I take her?"
"Soon. We have another test to come back, but I promise within the hour." The doctor said gently.
Sherlock nodded. "All right." He caressed his wife's back as she sobbed. Normally a man who avoided weeping women at all costs and other humans in general, he felt he needed to hold her, to give her comfort. He pressed his cheek to her hair and hummed softly to sooth her as she wept into his shirt needing love and security at the moment.
He had never realized how much he really held her in affection until he saw her looking so small, bloody, and terrified on the table. He sighed. He was fond of her and he worried for her in his own fashion. Was this what love was? Having her in pain he could not stand it.
She was released to his care within the hour. They drove home. Mari sat in the backseat, silent, watching the city go by. John was driving and Sherlock sat in the front seat. He looked back. She was nearly asleep. She and the baby were well, but she looked pale with her head bandaged.
Once they got to the house she let herself out and walked to the door brushing passed her husband who watched her go. Shaking his head and sighing he followed and opened the door. Mrs. Hudson greeted them.
"Oh there you are. Is all well then?"
"Yes. Thank you." Sherlock said. He watched his wife go to the flat and wait on the landing.
"I have some supper made for you since you have had a trying day."
"That is kind." Sherlock said nodding. He went and opened the door.
His wife walked in and then saw the mess. She sighed and moved to clean the dried blood. He shook his head watching. John Watson came in and shut the door as Sherlock went to pick up his violin. He began to play and Mari paused, listening before she continued. John went to her.
"Mari, dear one, no. Go take a bath, but try to keep your stitches dry. It will relax you." He took her shaking hands. "I will finish this."
"I am fine. I missed my party and now I just want to…"
The violin stopped. "You are on doctor's orders to be taking it easy, Mari. That starts now. Go do as Dr. Watson says."
Mari straightened. "No."
He turned to her. "No?"
"No. You are not my keeper. I will do as I will." She said defiantly. She looked at him. He knew she did not like being told, but in this case. She needed it.
"You are my wife and you have just returned from the hospital. It is either the bath or the bed for you." He said. His cold look left no room for argument. So he was back to that. She shook her head. Back on his home turf he thought he could bully her. Oh had another thing coming.
"Perhaps you are right. This was a mistake. All I want is love and I get unfeeling."
Unfeeling? He had been in a near panic at the hospital and he had held her as she sobbed against him. Maybe this was just her being overwrought. He could pass it off as that so he let it slide. For now.
"It is who I am, Marion." Sherlock said. "You married me and you carry my child. I do care about your welfare." He said. "But you are correct. I did not really need a wife, but I have one so I must make due." He froze. Why the hell did he just say that?
"Are you always such an abrasive ass?" she hissed. "One kind word. All I long for in this world."
He looked at her. "What kind word? You are a woman carrying a child. It is a fact. You are my wife. Also fact. You are angry and I have no idea why, but neither do I care. However, I would suggest calming yourself for the sake of the babe within before I have to take you back to the hospital." He said straightening to his full impressive height. If he needed to be cold for her to take the hint that he would just do that out of caring, so be it.
She lifted her chin and her eyes narrowed. "All anyone cares about is the baby."
"Mari that isn't true." John protested coming back from his bedroom.
Mari watched Sherlock lift the violin again and begin to play as he watched her. "Fine. I will go take a bath since it actually would feel nice. I do not appreciate being told what to do."
She walked to the bathroom and slammed the door. Undressing she climbed into the bath and drew her knees up to her chest and sat in the water. Once she had enough she turned it off and held herself, tears running down her cheeks.
John looked at Sherlock. "She really is trying you know. She wants to understand and be a good wife." He paused. "She is really scared. Being taken by ambulance away. She missed her party. Let her settle before you start scolding."
Sherlock looked at him a moment, but remained silent as he played.
ZzZ
She did not hear the knock. She was sitting in the water, curled in a ball about her belly, tears still dropping from her eyes as she rested her cheek on her knee. The water had chilled, but she did not move.
A hand touched her shoulders and then recoiled. "Dear lord, you are cold!" Came the rich voice of her husband to her senses. "Come, right, stand up." He said holding up a towel.
She looked up at him her eyes puffy and red. She whimpered and sighed rising to her feet. His look left no room for argument. She shook her head. She had kept her stitches dry at least. Her head hurt and she really could not take much more of her husband's Holy-Than-Thou sentiment at the moment.
He wrapped the towel about her. Her belly was full and veined like a fruit. She sighed and toweled herself off and he offered her warm flannel nightdress that hung down to the floor. She sat on the toilet seat and moved to pull on the socks he had also brought, but he knelt and took her small foot in his hand.
"You are so small Habibati." He whispered. He pulled the socks on and then pulled her to her feet. She looked up at him as he laid a hand on her waist. "So beautiful." She wobbled a bit and then walked passed him.
John looked up as she walked by to her bedroom. She looked almost angelic minus the bandage about her brow and the roundness of her belly. She was more waddling now than walking also, but her red hair in the light looked like fire as she went to the bedroom.
She sat down on the bed and reached for a book.
Her husband entered the room and shut the door. He removed his shoes, suit jacket, and looked back at her as she put a hand to her eyes. He touched her leg softly. "Are you all right?"
"Yes. Just my head hurts." She said blinking.
He nodded and offered her a tablet and some water from his table at the bedside. She took both and crawled under the covers. She was asleep as her head hit the pillow. He watched her as she curled up in a near fetal position around her belly.
He sighed and took a breath. "What am I to do with you, Mari?" He whispered. "I care so much, but show me the way." He said looking at her, his voice a whisper. He bent and kissed her cheek softly. "Sleep well. I am here if you need me." He said softly.
He continued to undress and then slid into the blankets beside her. He laid his head on his pillow watching her, listening to her breath, trying to relax his own head. "I love you." He whispered to her as he closed his eyes. "I love you so much." He said as he swallowed, a tear dropping from his eye to the pillow.
If he would have lost her…