I'm Sorry

Lisa paced frantically in the small hallway, just outside the operating theater room, disrupting the quietness of the small hall corridor. The sound of her feet moving to and fro against the tiled ground was all one could hear. She paced back and forth on her feet, her hands shaky, droplets of sweat formed around her face and palms.

​
Her mind kept going back to the argument that happened this morning. A lot of hurtful words were said. She remembered shouting angrily out at him, saying she needed space. The hurt was evidence in his eyes when she said that but she ignored it, too angry at that time to care.

Now here she was, in the hospital, tensed, and all worked up, desperately waiting to hear if the man she loved so dearly would come out alive. God knew her heart couldn't take it if anything were to go wrong.

The consistent ringing of her phone made matters worse. This was like the hundredth time her phone rang that day. She stopped picking the endless calls after the fifth ring. She didn't want to hear their sympathy and pity. She knew what they were all going to ask her, but it was the same answer she had. She was definitely not okay, barely keeping it together.

“Lisa?” a voice called from behind her.

She turned to see her younger brother, Michael, standing behind her with a paper coffee cup in each hand. He held one out to her.

She declined it with a shake of her head. “I can’t drink anything right now,” she said and continued her endless pacing.

“Suit yourself,” he said while sitting down on one of the nearby benches available and took a slow sip.

“You should sit. "You’ve been pacing for an hour,” he said pattering the spot next to him for her to sit.

“I can’t. I need to know what’s happening.”

“You know, the doctor said they just had a few cuts, broken ribs and a bullet they needed to remove,“ he reminded her.

“The doctor also said, there was a chance that he might not—” She, could not complete the words for fear that it might come to pass.

Michael watched her for some minute, pacing to and fro. He took a deep sigh, placed the coffee he was drinking on a small side table and stood up. He walked up to her and took her hands in his.

“Sis, don’t sweat it. He's going to be okay.”

She ignored him and asked instead,

“Any news on those people who held him hostage?”

“Well yes, the police called earlier, and it seemed like there was a mix-up.”

Apparently, your husband took his neighbor's car to work today instead of his own and the kidnappers were sent to kidnap whoever was in that car, which is supposed to be Mr Lawrence, your neighbor.

Realization dawned on her that she had grabbed his car keys that morning and drove out angrily after their argument, needing to be anywhere but there. Now her spouse was struggling for his life.

“It's all because of me” she said in between tears as she sat on the bare ground.

Micheal looked at her in confusion.

“How is this your fault?” he asked, his brows scrunched up in skepticism.

Source

“We had a fight this morning. And after I had left with his car angrily, I forgot he had to go to work with it, and if I had not taken it. He would not have had to borrow the neighbor's car either. It wouldn't have happened."

As Lisa spoke, guilt was written all over her.

“Common now, you can't put this on you. "You weren't the one that shot him”, Micheal spoke a bit loudly this time.

"I wish I never said that awful stuff to him, The last thing I said to him was because maybe I didn't love him anymore." Tears formimg in her eyes.

"What if that's all he remembers I said to him if he dies?" Her voice was barely audible.

There was silence.

Michael didn’t answer right away. After some moments, he walked towards where she sat and hugged her. Lisa broke down into more tears.

“Shhhh, I think love runs deeper than angry words. "One fight doesn't erase everything you’ve been through together.” Micheal spoke in a calm voice.

Lisa wrapped her arms around him. “You don’t get it.”

“I do,” he said quietly. “Maybe more than you think.” I remember Mom and Dad fighting like that once. Right before the accident.

Michael continued in a low voice. "The last thing I heard Mom tell Dad that day, she told him, 'Sometimes I can't stand you. I thought it was a joke." But after the accident, she beat herself up about it for years. Said she wished she’d just told him she loved him instead.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she remembered that day.”

“She thought she’d never get to say it again” .

​
“But she did. He pulled through.

A couple of nurses came out of the operating theater and passed by them with a clipboard in hand. Lisa shot up from her seat quickly and rushed towards them. She caught one on the sleeve and asked.

“Excuse me. Please do you have any updates on the patient currently undergoing surgery? I'm the wife.”

The nurse paused, and checked her chart. Then she looked up at Lisa with a reassuring smile.

“He’s doing well, the doctors are making good progress. They should be done in the next thirty minutes or so.”

Lisa nodded, a little relief washed over her.

When the nurse disappeared, Michael gently pulled her to the bench. Her legs were still trembling. For a while, they sat in silence. The sounds of machines, the footsteps of nurses that moved about filled the quiet hallway. Lisa stared heavily at the small window of the operating theater for some time, then finally, she asked, “Do you think he knows?”

Michael tilted his head. “Knows what?”

“How sorry I am.”

He gave a small smile. “I think he knows. And if he doesn’t yet, you’ll tell him soon enough.”

She nodded lightly. She promised herself that she would tell him how sorry she was for all the things she said. And made sure he knew how much ; she missed their early morning walk, she missed seeing him smile, and much more.

Another hour passed.

Then the doors to the operating theater finally opened and a doctor in scrubs stepped out, pulling down his mask.

“Lisa Jackson?”

She jumped on her feet. “Yes!”

The doctor smiled. “Your husband is doing perfectly fine and successfully out of surgery. Though still unconscious, we’re confident he’ll make a full recovery. You can see him in about thirty minutes.”

Lisa covered her mouth, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. This time it was tears of joy. The weight on her chest was finally relieved. She smiled brightly at the doctor as tears slipped.

The doctor nodded and walked away, leaving her with her brother.

Michael stood beside her, grinning. “Told you” he said.

When she entered the recovery room an hour later, she sighted her husband, Jackson, lying there, looking pale, but breathing. She walked up to him and took his hand in hers and squeezing it gently, then kissed him on the forehead and whispered the words.

“I’m sorry”

His fingers squeezed her back, and his eyes fluttered just a little.