Healing hearts

The ambulance sirens wailed as Samuel grasped Sarah's hand tightly, his eyes locked onto hers as they wheeled her into the emergency room. "You'll be fine," he whispered, trying to reassure her. Sarah nodded weakly, her grip on his hand firm. The doctors swiftly pushed her into the ICU, and the doors closed behind them.

Samuel paced anxiously outside, his mind racing with worry. Ten minutes ticked by, then twenty, then thirty, but there was no update from the doctors. An hour passed before Dr. Michael emerged, his expression somber. Samuel sprang to his feet, his eyes fixed intently on the doctor. "Dr. Michael!" he called out.

The doctor turned, his eyes filled with compassion. "I'm sorry, Mr. Sam," he said gently. "Your wife's condition is critical. She has stomach cancer, and it's advanced. We've done everything we can, but... she won't survive."

Samuel staggered back, his world crumbling around him. Dr. Michael handed a document to the nurse, explaining that treatment could only sustain Sarah for a week. "I'm sorry, Mr. Samuel," he repeated. "If there was anything I could do to save her, I would. But it's too late."

Samuel nodded tightly, tears streaming down his face. Dr. Michael left, and Samuel rushed to the bathroom, splashing water on his face. He stared at his reflection, and suddenly, he burst into tears, the weight of his loss crushing him.

The ward door creaked open, and Samuel stepped inside, his eyes fixed on Sarah's frail form. He sat beside her, gently taking her hand in his. Sarah's gaze drifted to his face, her fingers tenderly caressing his cheek. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she noticed the faint redness around his eyes. "Did you cry?" she asked softly, her voice laced with concern.

Samuel's gaze faltered, and he looked away, choosing to remain silent. Sarah's eyes welled up with tears as she persisted, "What did the doctor say about me? Am I going to die? Won't I survive?" Her voice cracked as she struggled to hold back her emotions. She used the back of her hand to wipe away the tears rolling uncontrollably down her cheeks.

"I don't want to die," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "He's a doctor, right? He's been working in this field for 20 years. He should be able to find a solution or something to keep me alive." Her words were tinged with desperation, a plea for hope in the face of despair.

Samuel drew her into his arms, holding her close as he gently patted her back. "He said your condition has gotten worse," he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. "He can't do anything about it."

Sarah's mind reeled in protest. They had just found happiness together, and now death loomed over her? She felt a surge of frustration and helplessness. Why was life so cruel? She wished she could have a chance to speak to God face-to-face and ask Him why He was taking her away from Samuel when they had just begun their life together.

But she knew she wasn't entitled to question God's will. He knew best for everyone. All she could do was accept her fate and wait for the day death would come to take her away. The thought was both comforting and terrifying.

Sarah gently pushed Samuel away, her eyes searching for answers. "How many days do I have left?" she asked softly. Samuel hesitated, reluctant to reveal the harsh truth. But Sarah's bitter smile told him she already knew.

"What's the need of hiding it from me?" she said, her voice tinged with resignation. "I know I don't have much time left. I just want to be prepared for that day and make sure we spend these few days left together like a lovely couple."

Samuel still hesitated, but Sarah's words cut deep. "Sarah..." he began, only to be interrupted. "If you don't tell me, I'll assume you don't love me anymore and don't want to spend time with me before I die." Samuel's face contorted in frustration. "What nonsense are you spouting?" he muttered, before finally relenting. "The doctor said you have only a week left."

Sarah's smile was a faint, sad curve of her lips. "Okay then," she said, her voice surprisingly calm. "Why don't you go get me something to eat? I'm really hungry." She rubbed her stomach, and Samuel's confusion deepened.

"Are you sure?" he asked, torn between his desire to fulfill her request and his fear of leaving her alone. Sarah twisted her head, a hint of impatience in her eyes. "Of course," she said firmly.

Samuel stared at her for a moment, searching for any sign of weakness. But Sarah's determination was clear. "Promise me you won't cry or feel lonely if I go out to get breakfast for you," he said, his voice laced with concern.

Sarah's gaze met his, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Samuel, I'm not a child anymore," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "Go get me something to eat, or else I'll starve to death."