As he lay in the bed, his regret hung over him like the sterile noise of the hospital room. The beep, beep, beep of the heart monitor sounded curiously far away, as if it were a countdown to what had to come to pass. Overhead, fluorescent lights gave off a dim glow that shone on the once-white walls that had seen the ending of many a life, and now Marcus was joining them.
He didn't know how long he'd been here or how long his body had fought, struggling to cling to life. But ultimately, it didn't matter. His body was no longer his; it had betrayed him. The years of neglect, the years of eschewing his health to pursue success and money, had caught up to him. And the stress, the sleepless nights, the unhealthy habits—it was too much for his heart to take.
Marcus slumped his eyes closed, back to the most vivid and harrowing moments that led to him being here now. In a lifetime of options, he had typically picked work as opposed to relationships, ambition as poor as any presence. His work had been the whole thing. The accolades? The promotions? The recognition? It all felt vacuous now. The sterile room's walls echoed back to him the life he'd built, but it was a life without heat, without significance.
He thought of Sarah, his first and only love. How many times had he told her they would have time for each other later? How many times had he pretended to work late at the office rather than meet her for dinner? He bore the heavy burden of those decisions in his heart. He remembered what she looked like—the disappointed look in her eyes when he swore to her that one day they'd be together—and she watched him float further away from her. He had been under the delusion that he would be happy once he achieved success, but when his body was failing him, he saw he would never be fulfilled by the rewards of his career.
There were little things, as well, that he had denied himself—the simple pleasure of taking a Sunday afternoon stroll in the park, the company of friends who had long gone astray. A moment later, his eyelids parted slightly, and for an instant, he believed he saw the blurry figure of his youthful self near the door, the reflection of who he had been before ambition filled his soul. But no, it was just a mirage, a ghost of the past.
The beeping of the heart monitor turned erratic, faster, and more frantic. His body started to shut down, and the room got colder. Marcus experienced one last surge of panic—awareness that he was not ready to depart. He hadn't made amends. He hadn't lived the life he wanted. The remorse was suffocating now, a silent scream bitch slapped in his chest. He had never truly lived.
And as the world around him descended into darkness, he wished for one thing—one opportunity to make amends. One opportunity to turn back time and correct his errors, to prioritize love over ambition, relationships over success. But it was too late now.
He was dead, the heart monitor peeping its last, life evaporating from his body, Marcus gone.