Free The Thorn and the Blossom: A Two-Sided Love Story by Theodora Goss Page B

“Don’t forget the eternal love.”
    “Like in
Green Thoughts
. You know, underneath that practical exterior, I think you’re an incurable romantic.”
    But she looked practical tonight, sitting in her office with a stack of papers in front of her.
    She looked up and said, “Why didn’t you tell me about your wife?”
    For a moment, he stood silent. What could he say? “All right, come on. Let’s go.”
    “Where?” she asked.
    “Just come on, all right?”
    He turned and walked down the hallway and to the parking lot. He could hear her footsteps behind him. Without a word, they got into the car. He drove along the roads he knew so well, toward the Henrico County Medical Center. Whenever he looked over at her, she was staring out the window. About halfway there, she said, “Where are we going?”
    “To see my wife,” he said. He knew, had known as soon as she had asked about his wife, that he was going to lose her. He had lied to her, not directly but by omission. How much he wished he could go back, even to yesterday, so he could tell her. But that possibility was gone. Time worked that way—time was linear; it didn’t circle back. Once you lost something, you couldn’t regain it. That was life.He drove faster than he should, angry with himself.
    At the front desk, the nurse said, “It’s past visiting hours, Dr. Thorne.”
    “Please,” he said. “Can I go in just for a minute?”
    The nurse nodded, and he walked down the obnoxiously pink hallway to the long-term care facility, with Evelyn following behind him. He did not look at her, could not look at her.
    He opened the door, walked up to one of the two beds, and said, “There she is. There’s Isabel.”
    Evelyn stood, staring. He knew he ought to say something, ought to explain. Slowly, haltingly, he told her about the accident. “The stable called an ambulance, but by the time it reached the hospital, she was in a coma. She’s been like this ever since. The doctors say there’s no hope, that she’ll never recover. But I can’t bring myself to disconnect her.”
    He took her hand. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I thought—” He’d thought that he would lose her again, and he hadn’t been able to bear it. “I wanted to be with you so badly. I thought if you knew, you’d never give me a chance. Evelyn, say something.”
    She reached out and touched Isabel’s hand. He glanced at her face. She didn’t look angry. No, she looked sad, and for a moment he thought,
It’s going to be all right
. “Evelyn,” he said.
    Suddenly, she put her hand on her chest. Her eyes opened wide and she stared at Isabel lying on the bed with the tangle of tubes around her. Then, she turned and ran. He ran after her, down the pink hallway to the reception area and then out the hospital’s swinging front doors. She was standing beside a taxi that had just dropped off a patient in a wheelchair. He stopped, out of breath, and watched as she climbed in.
    She looked back at him once as the taxi drove away. He stared after her, not knowing what to do except stand there.
    “Dr. Thorne!” He turned. The nurse was standing just outside the swinging doors, calling to him.
    He walked back to her.
    “Dr. Thorne, your wife has stopped breathing. We think it may be her heart, some sort of heart failure. The doctors are working on her now.”
    He followed the nurse into the reception area.
    “Just wait here, all right?”
    “All right,” he said. And sat, waiting, head in his hands. When the doctors came to tell him there was nothing more they could do, he nodded, stood up, and walked out of the building. The next morning, he called the department to tell Michael Fitch he was leaving, left a note for the landlady, and packed a suitcase.
    In one night, he had lost them both. There was nothing to keep him anymore.

B rendan had never sold his father’s house, and now he was glad. He reopened it, hung his clothes in the closet, sat down at the kitchen table, and