I sat next to your hospital bed, your hand in mine. I watched you breathe, mesmerized by every slight movement you made. How did we end up here? What if we’d stopped driving when the rain started?

“I just want to drive with you forever,” I sighed, leaning over to hold Oliver’s hand. “Who needs the rest of the world?”

Oliver laughed. “For me, the rest of the world is you.” He looked away from the road for a moment to look at me. 

The sky was dark and gray, and it looked like it was going to storm. 

As I’d suspected, fat drops of rain began to fall; slowly at first, then faster. Rain poured out of the sky in buckets, and the windshield wipers fought against it. 

“Wow!” Oliver said, laughing. “This is crazy!”

I grinned. “Maybe we should pull over until it slows down.” 

“Are you doubting my driving skills?” Oliver asked, pretending to be offended. 

“Maybe,” I teased. 

“We’ll be fine!” he assured me, once again looking away from the road to look at me. 

Then we hit a pothole. The car skidded on the wet asphalt, spinning off the road. 

I took a deep breath. A nurse rushed by in the hallway, and I wondered where she was going. How many other people were sitting next to a loved one right now, praying that each breath would be followed by another and not by a steady beeping sound that meant their heartbeat was gone?

I thought about how good the hospitals had been back in New York. Would you be in better hands there? Why did we decide to move out to the Pennsylvania suburbs? What if we had stayed in New York?

“I can not stand the Holtons!” Oliver complained, tossing his keys onto the kitchen counter as he walked inside. “They are every cliche for obnoxious neighbors that I have ever heard!” 

I laughed. “They really are awful. Yesterday Maria knocked on the door and asked if she could hang around the apartment for a little while because she burnt some dish she was trying to make and it made her apartment smell.”

Oliver shook his head. “Let’s move to the suburbs.” 

My head snapped up. “What?” I asked, incredulous. 

“Let’s move. Get out of the city. Live somewhere that we can have our own space in. Let’s go to Pennsylvania! The company has a branch there, we could ask to be transferred!” 

“Oliver…” I started. 

“Think about it, Mischa,” he implored. “We could have a big house, with a porch and a yard, and we could get a dog! I could be a regular suburban man, I’d even walk around in polos and dad shorts!”

I laughed at the idea of my city-raised Oliver mowing a front lawn or washing a car in the driveway. “I mean…if this is something you want we could think about it,” The idea was becoming more appealing by the second. Our own space. Maybe a yoga room, or a craft room, or something ridiculous like that. 

“Is that a maybe? A yes?” Oliver asked, his giddiness making me smile. 

“It’s a maybe yes,” I relented. 

“YES! I’ll call the company now!” Oliver kissed my cheek and spun me around. 

“Oliver!” I laughed, reaching for his arm. “You can’t do that-“

”Watch me!” He said, grabbing his phone. 

I rubbed the back of your hand, my fingers catching on your wedding ring; a navy blue band around your ring finger. I remembered the day you proposed so clearly. I was so mad at you that day I couldn’t think straight. I thought we were over then. I never imagined that you were going to propose. 

What if I had never said yes? 

I was fuming. I was beyond mad, I was insane. How could he do this? I stormed into the coffee shop across the street from our apartment building, shoving the door open far more violently than necessary. Thank god there was no line to order because I was too mad to wait. 

I ordered my coffee quickly, trying my best not to scream the order at the barista. When he handed it to me, I sat down at a table in the corner by the window. 

Then I saw Oliver. 

He came running out the doors of the apartment lobby like a madman, looking around wildly before spotting me in the coffee show window. He darted out into the street, ignoring the cars that honked at him and slammed on their brakes to avoid killing him. 

He burst into the coffee shop dramatically and raced over to my table. 

“Don’t speak to me, Oliv-“

”Wait!” he interrupted. “Don’t leave, Mischa. Don’t be mad, don’t hate me. Actually, be as mad as you want. You can scream and yell and throw things at me but it doesn’t matter. I love you, Mischa. I love you and I never want to watch you walk out of the apartment like that, not knowing if you’re going to come back. I hate myself for letting you leave, for not dragging you back and forcing you to talk to me. I love you, Mischa. I never want to be alive without you.” Oliver bent down to one knee and I gasped, leaning backward. He pulled a ring box out of his pocket and opened it, revealing a brilliant diamond set on a silver band. It was simple and elegant and beautiful and I loved it. 

“Marry me Mischa. I cannot be without you, I can’t.” He begged. 

My hand shook as it covered my mouth. “I…”

”Please say yes,” 

“Yes,” I said at last, throwing my arms around him. At that moment our fight seemed so stupid, so shortsighted. The other customers in the coffee shop applauded, and Oliver gingerly slid the ring onto my finger. 

I wiped my eyes as tears filled them. What was I going to do with you? What was I going to do if I had to live without you? 

What if you never got better?