Page 84 of The Accidental Wife

Later that evening, while I sat out on my terrace, staring absent-mindedly out at the view, my phone rings. I snatch it up, thinking it was her, but it wasn’t. It was my mother.

“Mum, can I call you tomorrow? I—”

“Sweetie, it's Grandpop. He’s not doing so well.” She sniffles. “They just called me from the hospital. They’re saying he won’t make it through the night.”

Oh, no, no. I can’t handle another loss today.

“I’m on my way.”

Ten minutes later, I was rushing through the hospital toward his private room and stop dead in my tracks when I see Shayla sitting there by his bedside. She’s reading a book to him while he listens to her, hooked up to a ventilator and heart monitor. What was she doing here?

“Excuse me? Are you a relative of Joe's?” An older nurse questions when she saw me lurking in the doorway.

“Yes, I’m his grandson,” I answer, not taking my eyes off Shayla as she continues to read to him.

“Ah, you must be Shayla’s husband, Cole. Joe speaks very fondly of you and your wife. She’s such a sweetheart. She’s been coming here three times a week; she sits and reads to him.” I turn my gaze to the nurse.

“How long has she been coming to read to him?”

The nurse looks thoughtful for a moment, “Um, just over a month now.”

“Tristan?” I hear my mother's voice approaching. I press my fingers to my lips, telling her to be quiet. “What is it?” She looks into the room and frowns. “Is that Shayla? What is she doing here, didn’t you get divorced today?” She questions in a flurry drying her eyes.

“Apparently, she’s been coming here and reading to him a couple of times a week.” My mother looks at her and back up at me.

“His memory is very intermittent, sometimes he knows who she is, and other times he thinks she’s his late wife.” The nurse explains as she watches on sadly. “Bless her. She just goes along with it to keep him happy.”

“My goodness. I can’t even believe that after the way I’ve treated her, she could be so…selfless.”

I nod, keeping my eyes on Shayla, and I feel my heart swell. “That’s Shayla for you, always putting others before herself,” I whisper and watch while she wipes away a tear that rolls down her cheeks. I walk into the room, and she looks up and stops reading when she sees my parents and me in the room.

“Maisie, why did you stop, dear?” My grandfather croaks, looking adoringly at Shayla, who looks at me and shrugs, her eyes watering. I walk over to her and press a lingering kiss to her forehead.

“Grandpop, that’s not Grandma. It’s Shayla. You remember, Shayla, my wife.” I say, perching down by his bedside, but he shakes his head smiling.

“No, no, that’s my Maisie. I would never forget her angelic face. Look dear, our little Tristan is here to see us.” My grandfather says, reaching out, he takes Shayla’s hand into his.

“Hallucinations are usually common when it’s time for them to pass.” The nurse explains, and I hear my mother sobbing in the back.

“Let’s go home Maisie, I’m ready to come home.” I look up at Shayla, her lip quivers, and she nods.

“Okay, we’ll go home together, and I’ll finish reading to you.” She tells him, her voice quivering.

“My beautiful Maise…” He whispers, and the machines beep, and the monitor shows a flatline. My mother’s scream of despair at watching her father die and Shayla’s sobbing was enough to wreck me. The doctors come in, call the time of death and begin unhooking him from all the machines. No matter how much you prepare yourself for this moment, it still hits like a wrecking ball to the gut. When the doctors tried to pry his hand away from Shayla’s, I broke down because, in his mind, he was holding onto his wife’s hand, who he loved with every bit of his heart.

My head fell into Shayla’s lap while I sobbed uncontrollably, and she cradles me in her arms, mourning the death of my grandfather with me.

At that moment, the only person I wanted by my side was her. She’s all I needed.

---