Words left unspoken.

I woke to alarms blaring in different rooms, Half the time my husband can be found sawing logs on the living room couch as opposed to in bed with me. Tonight, by some miracle, he made it to bed, but, of course, He forgot to turn off the alarm on the Alexa. Sleep has been a fleeting dream of mine for the last few weeks, between long hours and opposing schedules I am lucky to get a few hours of shut eye an evening. On top of that what little time I do have to myself has been spent at the nursing home watching the shaky, tepid breaths of my very best friend.

Since January he has been in an all-out battle with multiple infections. What began as a bad case of pneumonia warped into a full body breakdown. He has fought hard, but we are at the end.

I rub the sleep from my eyes, scanning the bed frantically for my screeching cellular. I find it wedged between the mattress and the wall, who needs a bed frame right? I desperately work to silence the device before Jay wakes, too late. He lets out a groan, stretching his body outward, what a sight to awake to. His smooth skin, lean muscles, the beautiful black and grey lettering that covers his collarbone, I am utterly amazed by him. He opens one bright green eye, raising an eyebrow at me. I nod, freeing myself from my blanket cocoon and urging the dog to get out of my way.

I gather my uniform for the day, simple grey scrubs, and matching tennis shoes. I groan at my tired reflection in the bathroom mirror. My hair is a mess from the night prior but not too much so that throwing It up is not an option. I feel like shit but, the show must go on. I halfhazerdly brush my teeth, dress myself then scurry into the kitchen for coffee and a quick bite.

Jay stumbles into the kitchen, meeting my tired gaze as I hurriedly pour cheerios and start the car. His gaze is soft, lips pulled into a half grin. He fumbles about the kitchen, making himself the first of what I suspect to be multiple cups of coffee, I do my best to work around him.

He taps the sugar container on the counter, pointing it towards me, empty, what a shock. I open the cabinet door above his head, bringing down a ¾ full bag of sugar, practically tossing in onto the counter below, He grunts, dumping the contents into the empty storage container.

I gather my things for the day, lunch, notebooks, chargers, tissues and pile them in the corner of the kitchen by the door. Wrapping my arms around Jay I place my head in the small of his back, his breaths are even, slow and his heartbeat just the same. I pull him a little bit closer to me, letting out a sigh as his left-over cologne caresses my nose. He leans his head back towards me and too, lets out a sigh.

Despite sitting for over 10 minutes the car is still chilled, that is what happens when your vehicle is as old as you are. I plug in my phone to the Aux cord, scrolling through songs I have heard a thousand times over. The car grumbles as I shift into gear and take off down the road, come on old girl, you can do it.

The drive felt longer than it normally does despite the roadways being completely clear. The sun is just beginning to rise, dying the cool ice blue sky the most beautiful shade of crimson.

The parking lot of the nursing home is just as empty as the streets that lead to it. Letting out a pained sigh, I shut the car off. I lay my arms and head on the steering wheel, breathing, desperately attempting to swallow the lump in my throat.

The small of under seasoned eggs and cleaning supplies beat me in the face as the automatic doors fly open. I attempt to avoid eye contact with the receptionist as she smiles sweetly in my direction. The hallways are empty aside from the medicine and laundry carts, they must be busy this morning.

His room is quiet, calm, tranquil. The smell of Mahogony and Lavendar flirt with my senses as I scan the room. Everything is just as I had left it the evening prior.

I sit next to his bed, holding his hand, stroking his thumb in rhythm with the machines keeping him breathing. His heart rate is slow, eyes half open, mouth agape, gasping for extra air every few moments. The gasps slow as I place soft kisses on his hand, forehead, and cheek.

He glances at me, eyes sunk and glassy, a look of sorrow and admiration. I feel his slight squeeze of my hand. He stares at my lips and his mouth closes into a strained smile. I stand from my seat, leaning over him, I allow my lips to rest softly on his. They are dry and cracked but still so sweet. His lips part slowly as he leans his face ever so slightly into me. A slow, steady exhale meets my now quivering lip. I place my forehead to his cheek; Tears begin racing down my face as I inhale his scent like it is the most potent drug on the market. His tense body relaxes and his eyes finally close.

The bounding pulse in his wrist slows until it is no longer present.

Minutes feel like hours as I muster up the strength to go and notify the nurse of his passing. I assist the staff in cleanup as the sweet, spirited hospice nurse notifies the family. I leave, tears still welling up in my eyes as the automatic doors close behind me.