Fragile(56)
Author: M. Leighton

“Just in case nothing! Give it to me after.”

“No, Hardy. We have to be realistic. There’s always a chance things might not go as planned.”

“Don’t say things like that,” Hardy reiterated in exasperation. “I told you—”

“I know, I know. Please. Just open it.”

The envelope was already open. It had his name on it, but Miracle’s street address. It said University of North Florida in the upper left corner.

Hardy reached inside and removed the single piece of paper. Unfolding it, he read and then re-read the words.

“Wha-what is this?” He was thoroughly confused.

“Please don’t get mad. I only did it because I love you,” Miracle said, her chin quivering.

“But what did you do? I don’t understand.”

Miracle played nervously with her IV tubing, refusing to meet his eyes. “When you broke your hand and took all those amazing pictures of the football games you missed, you left some we’d just developed at the house one night. When it looked like you might not be able to get a full ride to LSU on a football scholarship, I printed a copy of your essay from my laptop and submitted it with those photos to a couple colleges with really good art programs. I just wanted to see. I mean, I knew you were good enough, but I knew you wouldn’t do anything about it because of your dad.” Miracle paused, looking up at him from under her lashes. “So I did.”

Hardy just stared at Miracle for at least two minutes, digesting what she’d said, what she’d done. When still he couldn’t find the words to thank her, to tell her how much he loved her, how much her belief in him affected him, he hooked a finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up to his.

Staring deeply into her eyes, Hardy prayed that all he felt for her would show, that she could see what he couldn’t find the words to say. When her lips curved into a tremulous smile, he cupped her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes.

Hardy whispered, just loud enough for Miracle to hear, “Someday I’ll marry you, Miracle. And maybe someday after that, I’ll deserve you.”

Hardy heard a faint sob and, without opening his eyes, he pressed his lips to hers. He felt her shaking against him, knew what she was feeling.

Opening his eyes and leaning back a couple of inches, Hardy wiped the tears streaming from her eyes with his thumbs.

“I was dead inside until you came along. Now I can’t imagine my life without you. Not for a single day. I’d miss you too much.”

“You wouldn’t miss me,” she sniffled.

“Nah, you’re probably right. I only miss you a little now. When I’m awake. When I’m asleep. When I’m breathing.” When Miracle finally met his gaze, Hardy let his heart pour into his eyes. “My life is nothing without you, Miracle. Nothing. I love you. Do you hear me? I love you!”

“I love you, too,” she whispered.

Just then, a nurse cleared her throat from the doorway. Hardy turned to look at her. He knew why she was there; he was late.

“I have to let you go. I love you. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Giving Miracle a quick kiss, Hardy hurried out the door.

********

Miracle didn’t know what to think. She’d thought at first that Hardy had realized the transplant was just too much, that having a girlfriend on a pharmacy of medications for the rest of her life was not what he signed up for.

But then…the things he’d said. She leaned her head back against the pillow and closed her eyes, warm tears still leaking out from beneath her lowered lashes.

As long as she lived, she’d remember his words verbatim. She would recall his touch, his kiss, the sincerity flowing from his eyes, from his heart. She’d never forget the moment they’d just shared.

Miracle wanted to believe him—desperately—but only time would tell. Maybe he would be there when she woke up. Maybe he wouldn’t.

At least she’d gotten to give him the letter. She’d wanted to do that before going under the knife. Although the doctors were very optimistic about the surgery, there were still risks. Big risks. But she was ready to go. She believed in God, believed in Jesus. And she’d had some wonderful years with her mother and sister.

And Hardy.

She’d known a love few people ever got to know. And she could die happy because of him, because of what he’d given her. It was enough. More than enough.

She must’ve dozed off from the sedative they’d squirted into her IV, because those were the last thoughts Miracle had until they came to wheel her away.

********

The nurse rolled Miracle into the Holding Room, into one of six curtained bays. Only one other curtain was drawn. Miracle wondered if behind it lay the person donating a kidney to her. She would never know. The person had asked to remain anonymous, for legal purposes. Miracle wasn’t about to argue with someone who was basically saving her life.

Another nurse came from behind the curtain and rushed to collaborate with the nurse who’d brought Miracle. Then, syringes and tubes trailing from their hands, they descended upon her.

They put oxygen on her and had her open her mouth as wide as she could. They confirmed her name and her allergies and what procedure she was having. They hooked up more tubing and squirted more medications. They inspected her belly and made notes in her chart.

When they were finished, they left, the second nurse telling her it wouldn’t be long. Then she pulled the curtain and left her alone. Miracle didn’t know how much time had elapsed when she heard his voice, but whoever he was, his words started a flurry of activity. Then someone drew back her curtain and unlocked her bed.

“It’s almost time, but I’m going to wheel you down here for a few minutes before we take you into the surgical suite, okay sweetie?”

Miracle just nodded. She had no idea what normal protocol was. If they’d left her sitting in the hall for two hours, she probably wouldn’t have questioned them. She just wished they’d let Hardy stay longer.

The nurse pushed Miracle’s stretcher down to the end of the room and pulled her alongside the very last stall, the only other one with a closed curtain. Miracle was a little uncomfortable, not wanting to go against the wishes of her donor.

“Um, excuse me, but I don’t think I’m supposed to see the person in there,” Miracle whispered to the nurse as she pointed to the next stall.

The nurse simply smiled and stepped on the lock at the foot of Miracle’s bed. When she walked off, never addressing Miracle’s concern, Miracle looked hesitantly at the concealed bay beside her. She was debating what to do about it when she heard the hooks slide along their track. The curtain was opening.