Things that matter - A short story

in Freewriters4 years ago

It was five in the morning when Leon let himself into his house. After five days of being empty and closed, a stale smell pervaded the two room apartment. He opened the only window and stepped over to his small kitchen alcove to switch on the chimney. A sigh escaped him as he bent to retrieve the coffee pot and set about brewing a cup. A pang of realization hit him. Even after three years I miss Marion.

Leon was never fond of coffee. His favorite hot beverage was hot chocolate, till he divorced Marion. They had been in love, no doubt about it, even after all these years. Leon was the physical therapist attached to the varsity team and Marion had been one of the organizers of the College Olympics. She did not speak English well and he was one of the few who could speak French passably well. He had proposed to her on the final day of the Olympics. She had said she needed to be sure. After two months of living together they had married.

All was well for four years, then Leon was offered a TV show which needed him to travel a lot. It was a five month contract, but a small distance had come into being between them, due to Leon being away frequently. This was exacerbated by Marion being fired from her job by a spiteful boss and by Leon's reaction - "So now you can care for me, full time." Marion nursed her hurt ego by plunging into making her body fitter than ever and by aggressively marketing herself among their social circle. Soon an up and coming IT firm offered her managerial position with an obscenely large pay package. Soon the fights started. Over small things- cold dinner, no hot chocolate in the house, no coffee in the house, unanswered calls, new expensive purchases, etc. After nearly five years of marriage they agreed to divorce.

It was three years since the divorce and Leon had become a coffee person. He no longer spent much time shopping expensive brick-a -backs. He judicially brushed his teeth every night. But never scrounged up enough courage and will to step over his ego and reach out to Marion. Even when Marion messaged to wish him happy birthday every year. Instead Leon accepted the ache in his heart as a given, a disability which could not be fought. If only she would call. I would never let her go.

At noon Leon was roused from his sleep by the insistent ring of his mobile phone.

"Yes?"

"Is this Mr. Leon Moore?"

"Uh. Yes. Who is this?"

"I am calling from the Mercy Hospital, Danworth. About Mrs. Marion Moore."

"OK. What's happened."

"She was in an accident. I can send you the details. You are listed as the beneficiary of her Insurance policy. And we couldn't trace any other next of kin. She has damaged the outer cartilage on her brain stem and we do not have the equipment and expertise to do the procedure required to heal it successfully."

"What is the danger?" Leon was sitting up, tense.

"Anything from Coma to partial loss of brain and body functions. But there is a procedure that can help. It is not covered by the insurance."

Leon stood up, unable to reign in his anxiety. "Anything. Do whatever is needed."

"She will have to be airlifted to Hoover General. We can arrange it, the cost would be about $70,000. And a consent..."

"I can charge $30,000 to my card right away. And the rest in an hour. Please send me the details where it is to be sent along with whatever consent you need my signature on." Leon was already thinking of the fastest way of liquidating his savings.

Two weeks and $120,000 later Leon sat before the doctor in charge of Marion's treatment.

"We did all we could. She simply did not respond to any of the treatments. Too much internal damage, most likely. I recommend taking her off the ventilator."

Leon has lost his chance. He may not have been the cause of Marion's accident but he would regret bitterly that he had never reached out.

PICTURE CREDIT: PIXABAY.COM

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Nice story.

If you were him, would you have reached out, or would you have done as he did? I think most of us would be him, because our own false sense of pride is more important than saying 'I love you.'

You mean with "done" paying the hospital bills or go over?
Going over a part does and we call them stalkers because they refuse to let you go, have a life...all because of their ego.

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All I can say is that you have your own way of seeing life (and relationships) and I have mine. How can he be called a stalker if he tells her he is sorry and that he loves her (which, in this story, he could not do until it was too late?) Add to that, the writer lets us sense that she loves him and was waiting for him to reach out and when he does, it is too late and he now has to live with the pain.

My dear friend, I know you must have had many experiences that made you bitter, but if you only look at everything through the prism of bitterness, how can you ever find love or happiness, since every attempt to touch your heart will be seen as something evil? If you no longer want love, then at least look for ways to heal yourself so that you find peace and a life worth living.

Somehow the story sounded like a scam to me. I assume he visited her in hospital, spoke to her?
Strange how people suddenly can change ones marriage is over, do things even like them, they never liked before.
🤔💕

Posted using Partiko Android

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