Came to a fork in the road...

You stood there, at the doorway to the hospital room, and watched as Deborah sat on the edge of the bed, cheerfully talking and barely keeping the tears from flowing as she happily spoke with the other person in the room. It was obvious in her body language, demeanor, and even the words she was using that her daughter was alive, well, and able to be reached and touched, held, and from the hug they were enjoying, there. You never had any children of your own so you made peace with the fact that the loss of a child was something you never would have to experience. You also didn't wish anyone to have felt or gone through that experience. You supposed that a part of the reason you were accepting this was that it spared Deborah the ache of losing something more precious to her than life itself.

You, on the other hand, were effectively a widower now.

Sarah wasn't alive, there was no way anyone walking into that room could see your wife there, someone you had cherished and spent a good part of your adult life with. The ache in your chest came back, it was something you didn't tell anyone but you were sure the nurses had seen, at least the ones that were watching you (more than you thought, in your sadness and grief). Deborah may have been able to pick it up but she was understandably a stranger to you and was otherwise preoccupied herself. No, no one could fault themselves if they didn't realize you were also in the grieving stages.

Publicly, there were things you needed to do, including the funeral planning and being **** to stand as her body would be placed into a casket and then her remains cremated before her family would take it back for spreading. You already dreaded the conversation you would be having with them in the next few days, including her sister (who you had bonded with when she had lost her husband), your niece when she learns her favorite aunt had passed on. All the while, you would have to put on a facade when the very person was now laying in the room not a few feet away, propped up and laughing with a complete stranger. Did any of this occur to Sarah...Jessica? Or was that a luck aspect of the surgery, being relieved of having to think and worry about such matters?

Suddenly devoid of energy, you braced yourself by turning your back against the wall and leaned against it. There was no way you could go through with the idea of somehow marrying someone to "share" Sarah...or whoever she was now. Reality sucked, that was for sure, and the NDAs you had signed made it pretty much impossible for you to discuss with anyone else. The only people you could talk with, the doctors who put you in this hellhole, and the woman in the room. Was it even worth the ache you would undoubtedly feel whenever you saw Sarah again? Was there even a Sarah anymore?

One of the nurses who had been made aware of the situation (and worked with the good doctor, you presumed) spotted you leaning out of the room and started to make her way from the station, assuming that you wanted to go in sometime soon. She was about to call you when the elevator doors opened and a woman stepped out, immediately spotted you, and made a beeline to you. "There you are..."

You looked up from your spot a bit dazed and blinked a few times. "Oh..um...Joanne? What are you..."

"I heard from my brother, Daniel, he's in Traffic. I didn't know if you would be here right now." She looked at you and placed a hand on your cheek. "I came as fast as I could. Are you okay?" Seeing the look of the lost on your face, she immediately slipped her arms around you and gave you a warm hug. "Come on, let me take you home."

You were about to say something, anything, but the will to reject it left your body and without looking back in the room, you allowed her to pull you from your spot against the wall and she walked you back to the elevator, resting her head slightly against your shoulder.