Luisa
The days passed in a strangely quiet way after Arthur left. I tried to keep my routine normal, as if that were enough to hold the longing at bay. I woke up early, tidied the house, answered messages, faked normalcy. He called every day, sometimes more than once, and that was what kept me going.
"Today was rough," he said on one of the calls.
"But you sound good," I replied, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.
"Because I'm thinking about you."
I smiled to myself. "That makes it easy to work."
On the last day before he came home, he sounded excited.
"By this time tomorrow I'll already be home, and we'll be hugging and enjoying each other's company," he said in that warm voice of his.
"I'll make your favorite dinner," I promised. "So we can have a romantic dinner and enjoy our time together," I said, smiling.
"Then I might never travel again."
We hung up laughing, with simple plans. Nothing grand. Just the two of us. The day he was coming back, I woke up too early. I cleaned the whole house even though it didn't need it. I changed the flowers in the living room, made his favorite dinner as promised, prepared the bedroom, and picked out a light dress. I wanted to look nice when he walked through the door. The clock seemed to be playing games with me, crawling along too slowly. When I heard the doorbell, my heart jumped. I ran to the door with a wide smile, already ready to throw myself into his arms. I turned the handle without thinking.
It wasn't Arthur.
Two men stood there. One of them was holding a badge. The other kept his eyes down.
"Are you Luisa Valente?" the first one asked.
"I am… did Arthur send you? Is this some kind of surprise?" I asked, with a confused smile.
Their silence lasted a few seconds too long.
"There's been an accident," the man finally said. "Your husband was in a car collision. He was taken to Central Hospital."
I felt the floor disappear beneath my feet. The smile that still lingered on my face died in that same instant. "What?" My voice came out barely above a whisper. "That… that doesn't make sense. He was coming home. I talked to him, he was on his way!" The tears started to fall.
"It happened on the way to the airport," the other man added.
I don't remember closing the door. I only remember grabbing my bag, my phone, and getting in the car without thinking. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely turn the key. The drive to the hospital was a blur of red lights, honking horns, and tears I didn't bother to hold back. When I arrived, the smell of the hospital hit me like a punch. I asked for his name at the front desk, my voice breaking.
"He's in surgery," the nurse told me.
My body gave out into the nearest chair.
A few minutes later, I saw Veronica walking down the corridor toward me, as impeccable as ever, but with her face tight.
"Luisa," she said, cool. "I came as soon as I heard."
"Where is he?" I asked. I didn't have the strength for anything else.
"In the operating room."
We sat side by side, but it felt like there was an abyss between us. Time dragged. Every door that opened made me hold my breath. After what felt like hours, a doctor approached.
"Family of Mr. Arthur Valente?"
I was on my feet instantly. "I'm his wife."
"He suffered a serious accident," the doctor explained. "He sustained a head trauma and several fractures. The surgery went well, but the next few days will be critical."
"Is he going to be okay?" I asked, almost pleading.
"We're doing everything possible."
That was it. Nothing more. No complete explanation. And still, I held onto that "went well" as if it were a promise. When they finally let me see him, my legs could barely carry me. Arthur was lying there, unconscious, hooked up to machines. There was a small bandage on his forehead. My Arthur. So still it hurt to look at him. I walked over slowly and took his hand.
"You're unbelievable," I whispered, my voice breaking. "You promise to come home and nearly give me a heart attack." A weak smile crossed my face. But you're going to be fine. I know you are.
The tears started falling freely. "I was waiting for you," I continued. "I cleaned everything. Even made dinner — your favorite, like I promised." I squeezed his hand gently. "You owe me an explanation for this trip." I laughed through my sobs. "I told you to drive carefully."
I took a deep breath and pressed my forehead against his. "You can't leave me alone like this, Arthur."
The monitor beside him beeped faster. I lifted my head quickly. "Babe?" I called, hopeful. "Arthur, I'm right here."
His fingers moved slightly. My heart nearly leapt out of my chest. "I love you!" I said fast. "Do you remember? We were going to go on a trip when you got back. Everything was going to be fine. It was a husband's promise, remember? You have to keep it!" The tears came flooding back. "Please, my love, wake up…"
I spent the night at the hospital by his side. I couldn't close my eyes. I stayed awake watching everything — the nurses coming in during the early hours, the monitors every time they beeped — I didn't leave his side for even a second. By morning, I was in the chair holding his hand and looking at his motionless form, my heart breaking, when his eyes slowly opened.
I smiled and cried at the same time. "See? You always make a fuss, but you come back." I looked at him again. "How are you feeling, my love?" I asked, fighting back tears.
He blinked a few times, confused. His gaze wandered around the room, over the machines, up to the ceiling, until it stopped on me. The silence that followed was deafening. Arthur frowned, as if he were trying to fit together pieces that didn't make sense. His hand pulled away from mine slowly.
Then he spoke, his voice weak but clear enough to destroy me from the inside. "Who are you?"
And right there, I felt my legs give out. The ground vanished beneath my feet. And I understood — the accident hadn't taken Arthur from me. It had taken us. He survived, but our story was buried in the most cruel and sudden way.
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