Николас Спаркс - The Choice

Travis swallowed. “I promise to do exactly what you want. I swear it.”

“No matter how hard it is?”

“No matter how hard.”

“Because you love me.”

“Because I love you.”

“Yes,” she said. “And because I love you, too.”

The living will Gabby had signed in the attorney’s office was the document Travis had brought with him to the hospital. Among other things, it specified that her feeding tubes were to be removed after twelve weeks. Today was the day he had to make his choice.

Sitting beside Gabby in the hospital, Travis recalled the conversation he’d had with Gabby that night; he remembered the vow he’d made to her. He’d replayed those words a hundred times over the last few weeks, and as the three-month mark approached, he’d found himself growing ever more desperate for Gabby to wake. As had Stephanie, which was why she was waiting for him at home. Six weeks ago, he’d told her about the promise he’d made to Gabby; the need to share it had become unbearable.

The next six weeks passed without relief. Not only didn’t Gabby stir, but she’d shown no improvement in any of her brain functions. Though he tried to ignore the obvious, the clock had moved forward, and it was now the hour of his decision.

Sometimes, during his imaginary conversations with her, he’d tried to get her to change her mind. He’d argue that the promise hadn’t been a fair one; that the only reason he’d said yes was that the prospect seemed so unlikely, he’d never believed it would come up. He confessed that had he been able to predict the future, he would have torn up the documents she’d signed in the attorney’s office, for even if she couldn’t respond, he still couldn’t imagine a life without her.

He would never be like Kenneth Baker. He felt no bitterness toward Gabby, nor would he ever. He needed her, he needed the hope he felt whenever they were together. He drew strength from visiting her. Earlier today, he’d been exhausted and lethargic; as the day wore on, his sense of commitment had only grown stronger, leaving him certain that he would have the ability to laugh with his daughters, to be the father Gabby wanted him to be. It had worked for three months, and he knew he could do it forever. What he didn’t know was how on earth he could go on knowing that Gabby was gone. As strange as it seemed, there was a comforting predictability to the new routine of his life.

Outside the window, the pigeon paced back and forth, making him think it was pondering the decision with him. There were times when he felt a strange kinship with the bird, as if it were trying to teach him something, though what, he had no idea. Once, he had brought some bread with him, but he hadn’t realized the screen would prevent him from tossing it onto the ledge. Standing before the glass, the pigeon had eyed the bread in his hand, cooing slightly. It flew away a moment later, only to return and stay the rest of the afternoon. After that, it showed no fear of him. Travis could tap the glass and the pigeon would stand in place. It was a curious situation that gave him something else to think about when sitting in the quiet room. What he wanted to ask the pigeon was this: Am I to become a killer?

This was where his thoughts inevitably led, and it was what differentiated him from others who were expected to carry out the desires outlined in living wills. They were doing the right thing; their choice was rooted in compassion. For him, however, the choice was different, if only for logical reasons. If A and B, then C. But for his commission of one mistake after the next, there would have been no car accident; had there been no accident, there would have been no coma. He was the proximate cause of her injury, but she hadn’t died. And now, with the flourish of some legal documents from his pocket, he could finish the job. He could be responsible for her death once and for all. The difference turned his stomach inside out; with every passing day, as the decision approached, he ate less and less. Sometimes it seemed not only that God wanted Gabby to die, but that He wanted Travis to know that it had been entirely his fault.

Gabby, he was certain, would deny it. The accident was just that—an accident. And she, not he, had made the decision as to how long she wanted a feeding tube. Yet he couldn’t shed the crushing weight of his responsibility, for the simple reason that no one, aside from Stephanie, knew what Gabby wanted. In the end, he alone would make the choice.

The grayish afternoon light gave the walls a melancholy cast. He still felt paralyzed. Buying time, he removed the flowers from the windowsill and brought them to the bed. As he laid them across Gabby’s chest and took his seat, Gretchen appeared in the doorway. She moved into the room slowly; as she checked Gabby’s vitals, she didn’t say a word. She jotted something in the chart and smiled briefly. A month ago, when he was doing Gabby’s exercises, Gabby had mentioned that she was pretty sure Gretchen had a crush on him.

“Is she going to be leaving us?” he heard Gretchen ask.

Travis knew she was referring to a transfer to a nursing home; in the halls, Travis had heard whispers that it would be coming soon. But there was more to her question than Gretchen could possibly understand, and he couldn’t summon the will to answer.

“I’m going to miss her,” she said. “And I’m going to miss you, too.”

Her expression was brimming with compassion.

“I mean it. I’ve worked here longer than Gabby, and you should have heard the way she used to talk about you. And the kids, too, of course. You could tell that even though she loved her job, she was always happiest when it was time to go home at the end of the day. She wasn’t like the rest of us, who were excited to be done for the day. She was excited to go home, to be reunited with her family. I really admired that about her, that she had a life like that.”

Travis didn’t know what to say.

She sighed, and Travis thought he saw the glisten of tears. “It breaks my heart to see her like this. And you, too. Do you know that every nurse in the hospital knows you sent your wife roses every anniversary? Pretty much every woman here wished that her husband or boyfriend would do things like that. And then, after the accident, the way you are with her . . . I know you’re sad and angry, but I’ve seen you do the exercises with her. I’ve heard what you say, and . . . it’s like you and she have this connection that can’t be broken. It’s heartbreaking and yet beautiful. And I feel so horrible for what you’re both going through. I’ve been praying for you both every night.”

Travis felt his throat close.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that you two make me believe that true love really exists. And that even the darkest hours can’t take that away.” She stopped, her expression revealing that she felt she’d said too much, and she turned away. A moment later, as she was about to leave the room, he felt her place a hand on his shoulder. It was warm and light and lingered for just an instant, and then it was gone, and Travis was alone with his choice once more.

It was time. Looking at the clock, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer. The others were waiting for him. He crossed the room to shut the blinds. Habit led him to turn on the television. Though he knew the nurses would turn it off later, he didn’t want Gabby to lie alone in a room more silent than a tomb.

He’d often imagined himself trying to explain how it happened. He could see himself shaking his head in disbelief while sitting at the kitchen table with his parents. “I don’t know why she woke up,” he heard himself saying. “As far as I can tell, there is no magical answer. It was just like every other time I visited . . . except that she opened her eyes.” He could imagine his mother crying tears of joy, he could picture himself making the call to Gabby’s parents. Sometimes it was as clear to him as if it had actually happened, and he would hold his breath, living and experiencing the feeling of wonder.