Николас Спаркс - The Choice

But now he doubted that it would ever be possible, and from across the room, he stared at her. Who were they, Gabby and he? Why had it all turned out this way? There had been a time when he would have had reasonable answers to those questions, but that time was long past. These days, he understood nothing. Above her, the fluorescent light hummed, and he wondered what he was going to do. He still didn’t know. What he knew was this: She was still alive, and where there was life, there was always hope. He focused on her, wondering how someone so close and so present could remain so remote.

Today, he had to make his choice. To tell the truth meant Gabby would die; to tell a lie meant that Gabby’s wish would be denied. He wanted her to tell him what to do, and from somewhere far away, he could imagine her answer.

I already have, sweetheart. You know what you have to do.

But the choice, he wanted to plead, had been based on faulty assumptions. If he could go back in time, he would never have made that promise, and he wondered whether she would have even asked him to. Would she have made the same decision if she’d known that he would cause her coma in the first place? Or if she’d known that pulling the feeding tube and watching her slowly starve to death would certainly kill a part of him? Or if he told her that he believed he could be a better father if she remained alive, even if she never recovered at all?

It was more than he could bear, and he felt his mind begin to scream: Please wake up! The echo seemed to shake the very atoms of his being. Please, sweetheart. Do it for me. For our daughters. They need you. I need you. Open your eyes before I go, while there’s still time. . . .

And for a moment, he thought he saw a twitch, he would swear he saw her stir. He was too choked up to speak, but as always, reality reasserted itself, and he knew it had been an illusion. In the bed, she hadn’t moved at all, and watching her through his tears, he felt his soul begin to die.

He had to go, but there was one more thing he had to do. Like everyone, he knew the story of Snow White, of the kiss from the Prince that broke the evil spell. That’s what he thought of every time he left Gabby for the day, but now the notion struck him as imperative. This was it, his very last chance. Despite himself, he felt a tiny swell of hope at the thought that somehow, this time would be different. While his love for her had always been there, the finality had not, and maybe the combination constituted the magical formula that he’d been missing. He steadied himself and moved toward the bed, trying to convince himself that this time it would work. This kiss, unlike all the others, would fill her lungs with life. She would moan in momentary confusion, but then she would realize what he was doing. She would feel his life pouring into hers. She would sense the fullness of his love for her, and with a passion that surprised him, she would begin to kiss him in return.

He leaned closer, their faces drawing near, and he could feel the heat of her breath mingling with his. He closed his eyes against the memory of a thousand other kisses and touched his lips to hers. He felt a kind of spark, and all at once he felt her slowly coming back to him. She was the arm that held him close in times of trouble, she was the whisper on the pillow beside him at night. It was working, he thought, it was really working . . . and as his heart began to race in his chest, it finally dawned on him that nothing had changed at all.

Pulling back, all he could do was lightly trace her cheek with his finger. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“Good-bye, sweetheart.”

Twenty-two

How far should a person go in the name of love?

Travis was still turning this question over in his mind when he pulled into the drive, even though he’d already made his decision. Stephanie’s car was parked out front, but except for the living room, the rest of the house was dark. An empty house would have been too much to bear.

The chill was biting as he stepped out of his car, and he pulled his jacket tighter. The moon had yet to rise, and the stars glittered overhead; if he concentrated, he knew he could still remember the names of the constellations that Gabby had once traced for him. He smiled briefly, thinking back on that evening. The memory was as clear as the sky above, but he forced it away, knowing he didn’t have the strength to let it linger. Not tonight.

The lawn was shiny with moisture, promising a heavy frost overnight. He reminded himself to put out the girls’ mittens and scarves so he wouldn’t have to rush around in the morning. They would be home soon, and despite his fatigue, he missed them. Tucking his hands in his pockets, he made his way up the front steps.

Stephanie turned when she heard him enter. He could feel her trying to read his expression. She started toward him.

“Travis,” she said.

“Hey, Steph.” He removed his jacket, realizing he couldn’t remember the drive back home.

“Are you okay?”

It took him a moment to respond. “I don’t know.”

She put her hand on his arm. Her voice was gentle. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“A glass of water would be great.”

She seemed relieved to be able to do something. “Be back in a jiffy.”

He sat on the couch and leaned his head back, feeling as drained as if he’d spent the day in the ocean, fighting waves. Stephanie returned and handed him the glass.

“Christine called. She’s running a little late. Lisa’s on her way.”

“Okay,” he said. He nodded before focusing on the family portrait.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He took a drink of water, realizing how parched his throat had become. “Did you think about the question I asked you earlier? About how far someone should go in the name of love?”

She considered the question for a moment. “I think I answered that.”

“You did. Sort of.”

“What? You’re telling me it wasn’t a good enough answer?”

He smiled, thankful that Stephanie was still able to talk to him as she always had. “What I really wanted to know is what you would have done if you were in my position.”

“I knew what you wanted,” she said hesitantly, “but . . . I don’t know, Trav. I really don’t. I can’t imagine having to make that kind of decision, and to be honest, I don’t think anyone can.” She exhaled. “Sometimes I wish you’d never told me.”

“I probably shouldn’t have. I had no right to burden you with that.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I know you had to talk to someone about it, and I’m glad you trusted me. It’s just that it made me feel terrible for what you’ve been going through. The accident, your own injuries, worries about the kids, your wife in a coma . . . and then to have to make a choice whether or not to honor Gabby’s wishes? It’s too much for anyone to handle.”

Travis said nothing.

“I’ve been worried about you,” she added. “I’ve barely slept since you told me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing to you. I should have moved back here as soon as it happened. I should have visited Gabby more often. I should have been around every time you needed to talk to someone.”

“It’s all right. I’m glad you didn’t walk away from your job. You worked hard to get there, and Gabby knew that, too. Besides, you were here a lot more than I thought you would be.”

“I just feel so sorry for what you’ve been going through.”

He slipped his arm around her. “I know,” he said.

Together, they sat in silence. In the background, Travis heard the heater click on as Stephanie sighed. “I want you to know that no matter what you decided, I’m with you, okay? I know, more than almost anyone, how much you love Gabby.”