Patrick stood in a bustling corridor that to him was as empty as his soul. One young lady even accidently bumped into him as she rushed passed, but he felt neither the impact nor heard her apology. He was standing on a hair’s width of a ledge between emotional meltdown and jubilant elation.
To the side of him is a door, and beyond that a body lay upon a bed covered head to toe in a single white sheet. It was his past, his present and his future. Everything he had planned for, worked for was all because of the empty vessel that now lay beyond that door. Her name was Jennifer.
Ten years together wiped out by a complication. A decade of devotion and unconditional love erased, taken away from him in the one place you were supposed to be in safe hands. Hands that tried to console him, mumbled unheard reasons and explanations, hands that rushed from the room with a life given birth to.
Somewhere close, a newborn cries out for a mother it will never know, and for a father that stands in a hospital corridor unable to fall from the emotional ledge upon which he stands.