A Vigil in the Silence

A Vigil in the Silence
My body was trembling from the intensity of my silent sobs and I was still there huddled on the ground next to her bed with my head in my hands.
My face was wet and slippery from the tears that had long since stopped streaming down my face in a torrent. The stifled cries that continued to claw at my chest left my throat raw and my eyes were burned swollen and gritty. I was unable to leave her.
The idea of leaving even for a brief period of time felt betraying me and giving in to the horrifying possibility that she might disappear while I was away. 50/50 the doctor said was a cruel demeaning mantra that kept repeating in my head.
Here the man in charge of enormous empires and the ability to shift markets with a single decision was reduced to a helpless sobbing figure on a hospital floor. My phone was lying discarded on the bedside table when I looked at it. A string of missed calls was illuminated by the screens faint glow. Ava.
A silent request a concerned question her name flashed repeatedly. After the incident at the restaurant I knew she was probably upset perplexed and maybe even furious.
I felt terrible for her because I knew how much pain she was going through. However she felt incredibly distant at that precise moment which was a problem I couldnt even start to solve.
My entire world had shrunk to this sterile room and Fionas chests delicate nearly undetectable rise and fall. I was too exhausted to respond. Overly emotionally spent. I was too overcome by the oppressive choking terror that seized me. Every single thought every prayer and every fiber of my being was directed toward Fiona.
I simply wanted to pray and keep looking at her to commit to memory every single detail of her lifeless pale face to fervently and steadfastly pray that nothing—nothing—would go wrong. My eyes returned to her. In sharp contrast to the lively vivacious woman she had always been she lay so still so completely still.
Her unstable life was a continual horrifying symphony of wires and tubes and the steady beeping of the monitors. With every heartbeat I watched the heart monitors green line a delicate dancing tribute to her life.
I felt a chill go through my veins as I considered what would happen if it flatlined and the beeping stopped. I visualized the convulsions the violent shaking and the quick decline that the doctor had described. In my mind the picture was a nightmare a tormenting replay.
She was in a fight In an attempt to get back to me she had briefly regained consciousness. She was dragged back into the shadows after that. A glimmer of hope was dashed away with ruthless indifference and it felt like a cruel joke.
My anxieties swept me away in a sea of hopelessness like an unrelenting torrent. The doctors words her body or immune system stuff though ambiguous conjured up a horrifying image of an internal conflict that I couldnt see or control.
What if her body pushed to its absolute limits just gave up? What if her immune system already compromised by years of chronic illness simply couldnt fight anymore? Her frail body was engaged in a silent battle and I was only a helpless bystander.
In an attempt to block out the sterile reality of the room and to visualize a healthy vibrant Fiona laughing with sparkling eyes I closed my eyes and pressed my palms closer together. However the picture was short-lived as the frightful silence of her present condition soon took its place.
I forced myself to look at her when I opened my eyes again facing the fear directly. I gently put my fingers on her limp hand and reached out. It was completely unresponsive and cool almost cold.
I squeezed it tenderly and frantically putting all of my love fear and hope into that one silent motion. Fiona fight. Fight please. I reflected on our shared history our years of life together and the silent bond that had held us together.
She was more than just my wife, she was my confidante, my rock and the only person who genuinely comprehended the intricacies of my life. The idea of losing her was a void a deep emptiness that felt like it would engulf me. Nothing mattered here not even my empire wealth or power.
She couldnt be saved by it all. I could taste the helplessness in my mouth—a bitter painful taste. I was used to being in charge to making decisions to manipulating the world to suit my needs. However I was absolutely helpless in this situation. I had no choice but to sit, observe and pray.
Even worse than any physical pain was the agonizing uncertainty and waiting. Long and quiet the night was broken only by the steady beep of the machines and the soft footsteps of a nurse checking her vitals.
I didnt leave. I didnt get any rest. With my heart a raw open wound I sat there in silent vigil staring at Fiona. Every heartbeat was a frantic request for more time and each shallow breath was a tiny victory.
I was a man consumed by fear and an almost intolerable love holding on to the thin thread of her life and fervently hoping that she would fight and return to me. I could only stare, pray and hold out hope that nothing would go wrong during the endless terrifying limbo that was the night.
I stared at Fiona again and this time I not to drown myself in my tears. I tore my eyes slowly away from her and back at my phone lying on the floor and my mind immediately ran to Ava.
Shit, what had I been thinking. I stared at my phone wondering what I would say when I finally call her back. I wondered if she was okay judging from the way s
he had ran off last night . I had to call her.