Edith held on to my hand tightly and gave me a confident look as we walked back into the hospital. We slowly approached John's bed together. John's eyes were closed, and he looked paler than before. His eyes opened weakly. He looked tired, and I could tell he was struggling to breathe. I sat down next to his bed and took his hand in mine, leaning down to kiss him softly on the lips.
"You're a fool, but you are a fool with the best of intentions, and I love you for that," I whispered softly in his ear. "Don't ever think for one second I ever stopped loving you, and regardless of your intention, you are the man that I choose."
John winced in pain, and seemed to be gasping for air. He caught his breath after a moment, and his body slowly began to relax. "I never meant...I didn't want...want to hurt you," John said, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, fighting off the spasms of pain that clearly radiated throughout his whole body. "I thought I was...helping you...I didn't want...want you to be alone."
"I just wish you had gone about it differently," I said with a half-smile.
"I'm sorry," John said with gritted teeth.
"I know," I responded gently. "John, I would like you to meet someone who helped me tremendously in the camp," I gestured to Edith, who was silently standing at the end of John's bed.
"It's so good to meet you, John. I have heard a lot about you," Edith said with a smile.
John smiled weakly, "Good to meet you too, I wish it was under... better...circumstances," he winced.
"I would say this is better circumstances than the last time Beth spoke of you. At least this time, you're alive," Edith said with a grin.
"I suppose you are right, if you consider this alive," John remarked morbidly.
"Hm, Breathing, talking. I would say you are still very much alive," Edith replied sternly.
"A temporary state," John answered with a strained smile.
"Isn't that true for everyone, though?" Edith asked, stepping closer to the bed.
"You have me there," John laughed, but Edith got a serious look on her face.
"Beth, would you mind if I had a word alone with John for just a moment?" Edith asked with her motherly expression. I looked at John for a moment. He nodded and squeezed my hand gently with a reassuring look.
"Of course," I answered, trying not to sound nervous. I walked away, leaving Edith and John alone. I didn't know what she wanted to discuss with John, and even though I trusted Edith, and I knew whatever she did, she did with good intentions, I still felt uneasy. Edith came across as gentle, soft-spoken, and witty. She was indeed witty, and at times she was also kind, but she was far from shy and soft-spoken. Edith spoke her mind, and she had no problem telling you the hard truth, no matter how difficult it was to hear. Edith was kind, and never wanted to cause harm, but she was also willing to risk quite a bit for the truth. Her brutal honesty did create a bit of anxiety in me, but John was a strong man who knew how to handle himself. He was no longer a little boy that needed shielding, but I still didn't want Edith to make John feel worse about what he had done. I didn't want John's guilt to destroy what was left of the boy I had fallen in love with. He had already changed so much, I hardly recognized him, and I knew he felt so much pain over leaving me. I didn't want to cause him any more pain and suffering over a mistake that he could never take back.
I sat on a wooden bench in one of the long hospital hallways. There were long narrow windows on the wall across from me, looking out over the city. I don't know how long I sat there in the silent hall. After a while, I rested my head against the wall and tried to relax my tense body. I couldn't remember the last time I had allowed myself to relax. Ever since I had found out about what my father was and what he was doing, my entire body had been on high alert. A shiver went up my spine. I closed my eyes and forced myself to take deep breaths. I tried to let my body relax, but the tension ran too deep. Although I knew I was safe, the child in me still feared for the worst, and the knowledge that John was slipping away from me once again didn't help. I had never deluded myself into believing that I would ever be the person I once was, but I didn't want to harm the people around me because of how broken I was.
The sun began to set, and I realized it had been a couple hours since I had left Edith and John alone. My nerves were wearing thin, and I felt myself becoming paranoid. I knew I had no reason to be so afraid, but curiosity was getting the better of me. After what felt like forever, I saw Edith appear from the stairs, which led up from the floor that John was on. I tried not to look nervous, but Edith knew precisely what I was feeling.
"Goodness, Beth. Don't look so scared, I promise I didn't harm him," Edith said with a smile.
"What did you two talk about?" I asked, sounding more anxious than I would have liked.
"You, him, his life," Edith said, looking down at her hands, "I wanted to know the man that held your heart, and make sure that he knows how grateful I am that you have had him. John reminds me a lot of my eldest son."
I was puzzled by her response, "Edith? Are you okay?" I asked, squeezing her hand in mine.
A tear slid down her cheek, "I never got to say goodbye to my boys," Her voice trembled, "John's mother is dead, his father may never know what happened to him. Talking to John was like talking to my own son. Getting to say goodbye to him is like getting to say goodbye to my boys. You are like my daughter Beth, and since he is your love, I wanted him to know how dear he is to me and how lucky I felt getting to know him."
Edith had spoken of her sons deaths. She had woken to their screams and the sounds of gunshots. She had witnessed the brutal murder of her whole family, and it had never seemed to shatter her. Yet, in that moment, I saw the cracks those memories had left; damage beyond repair. From that moment on, she had been in survival mode, never having a moment to process her loss. She was a mother missing her children, and John had hit someplace in her soul that longed for a chance to just say goodbye. She no longer had her sons, and John no longer had his mother, but for a few hours, they were allowed to mourn for what they had lost and temporarily fill those holes that would never truly heal.
"I'm so sorry, Edith," I whispered.
Edith attempted a smile, "I am grateful I got to meet him." She patted my hand and walked back down the hall towards her bed. I watched as she slowly walked, the woman who had seemed so unbreakable had finally revealed her brokenness.
I walked back to John's bedside, and I kissed him gently. John seemed shocked by this, but then he gave into my kiss and gently kissed me back. I then looked John in the eyes, "I love you," I whispered "I refuse to let the few minutes, hours, days, weeks that we may have left, living in regret, and remorse. Aussichtslos took enough from us," I said, kissing him again and then resting my head back on his chest. I felt John's weak, thin arms wrap around me. The warmth of his body against mine sent shivers down my spine. I tried to soak up every last moment I had left with him. I savored every breath he breathed, and I decided to absorb every last detail about him so that I would never forget. I focused on every line in his face, his amazing green eyes, his dark hair, and his sweet scent—the feel of his touch and the sound of his voice. We just lay next to one another, soaking each other in.
"How did we get here, Beth?" John asked softly.
"I don't know," I answered.
"We were so full of life once. We laughed, we played, we joked. Now everything seems so far away, I don't remember the last time I smiled and meant it," John said.
I don't know what possessed me, I just knew I had to see him smile. I looked up at him suddenly, crossed my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him. John laughed a little and then winced. I stopped and gave him a worried look, but John just seemed to shake it off.
"I tried," I said with a smile as I rested my head back onto his chest.
"I used to be funny," John said lightly.
"You really weren't that funny," I said with a giggle.
"I was so," John said indignantly.
"No, I just let you think you were," I answered.
"Mr. Becker thought I was funny," John insisted.
"No, love, he was laughing at you, not with you," I responded.
"Brat," John said with a chuckle.
"Me?" I said with a smile.
"Yes, you," John retorted.
"I am not!" I said, sounding like a stubborn child.
"Then admit that you used to think I was funny," John said, sounding lightheartedly stern.
"Oh fine, maybe a little," I rolled my eyes and gave in because there it was: John was smiling at me.
The two of us laughed together, but after a while, the silence returned.
"I love you, you know that, right?" John said, his voice low and serious.
"I do," I answered.
"I have loved you since we were children, throwing snowballs at each other, and helping you and Mr. Becker at the clock shop. I told my mother when I was only 10 that I would marry you one day." He said, tightening his embrace.
I felt a stab of pain spread throughout my entire body, I tried to keep my tears away, I refused to cry again.
"I seem to remember you telling Mr. Becker that you didn't like me very much," John said.
"When?" I asked, sounding surprised.
"I don't remember how old we were, but we hadn't known each other long. Our mothers were having coffee at your house, so my mother brought me over to the clock shop, and you were there helping Mr. Becker with something. I dropped a clock, it shattered, and I misplaced a tool that Mr. Becker needed. I was causing all sorts of trouble, and you turned to Mr. Becker, and you said 'I don't like him, he gets in the way,' and I was standing right next to you." John said, sounding amused.
I smiled at the faint memory, "Ah, yes. Mr. Becker scolded me and told me to be kind."
"That is one of the first memories I have of you," John's voice was soft.
"Love is easily mistaken for hate," I responded.
"I always knew I loved you," John said, his voice growing fainter with every word.
I looked up at John and saw that he had fallen asleep. I could hear his shallow breathing, and I saw his chest moving up and down. I kissed him gently, and we fell asleep in each other's arms.