Chapter 11
Lying in the ICU for nearly ten days, I could no longer breathe on my own, relying on a ventilator to gasp for air. More machines kept getting attached to my body.
At first, doctors and nurses comforted me, saying I’d improve soon. But later, they all fell silent.
Outside the room, I overheard their conversation.
“Ruth’s condition… can only be sustained by machines now. Patrick, you need to prepare yourself.”
“Dr. Johnson, if I’d been honest with her from the start, maybe she wouldn’t have misunderstood or gotten so upset?”
“Patrick, you’re a doctor. You know cardiac transplant rejections happen to everyone–timing varies, but it’s rarely triggered by emotional stress. This isn’t your fault.”
They discussed treatment plans, but I stopped listening.
My eyes drifted to the slow–moving lines on the bedside monitor before closing.
“Ruth! Dr. Johnson prepping for surgery!”
Patrick’s voice reached me again–warm and bright, just like when he first confessed.
They say hearing is the last sense to fade when dying. Seems true. Because I still heard Patrick’s choked sobs.
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Chapter 11
1268 Voucher’s
He said, “You’re a terrible actress. Faking amnesia? Not convincing at all.”
He said, “Even if you lose your memory twice, thrice, I’ll chase you all over again. Don’t think you can ditch me.”
He said, “I won’t read what you sent. If you’ve got something to say, say it to my face.”
He said, “You’ll pull through. Give me another chance, okay?”
He said, “Ruth, I love you…”
Amid his tears, a nurse spoke, “Dr. Patrick, this Lisianthus flower was clutched in Miss Smith’s hand. Should we keep it?”
‘Give it to me.
My phone rang suddenly on the bedside table.
The screen still showed those lines I’d typed earlier:
“Patrick, I’ve been lucky. Born with heart disease, watched everyone avoid me fearing an episode–reaching twenty–five is a gift. Just pity Dorothy’s heart… couldn’t keep beating after all.”
“But luckier still was meeting you. Someone who stays, whether my memory fails… or I pretend it does.”
“I thought pushing you away by faking amnesia would make my leaving easier for you. Underestimated your love.”
“Too weak to type now. Patrick… I love you too…”
Patrick’s sobs faded in my ears, but his last words pierced through.
“Ruth, Lisianthus symbolizes not only health… but eternal love. Whether
you remember me… whether you’re here… or gone…‘
