The soft beeping next to the bed wakes the gruff looking man. His face once ruggedly handsome, devoid of life. He looked around straining his failing neck muscles. To the side a woman of similar age: “H-how do you feel huney?”
Her words soft and trembling. “Meh same old same old”, he answers. He looks at his wife and can’t seem to care for her plight, he knows her better, just looking at her eyes, flitting away like they did, he knew. She wasn’t as concerned with his wellbeing, as she was with the absolute mess his death would leave behind.
4 kids as a single mom, the house was going to get foreclosed he couldn’t really blame her. But he felt little to no pity. He knew it was stupid but part of what caused his current predicament is how she constantly kept pushing for more, better house, expensive stuff for the kids, yet he was supposed to wear second hand clothing.
He sighs. “What’s on your mind huney?” His wife asks. “Stuff”, he answered, “like how you are going to be alone without me”. She smiles, trembling and squeezes his hand, “thank you huney”, that means a lot to me.
He smiled but on the inside he was furious, “really? Im the one dying in agony, she doesn’t even try, to not make it about herself”, his thoughts turned dark.
He had no one to blame but himself, in the end he knew that. Should have broken up. She had stopped looking at him as a husband a long time ago, he never really conveyed to her how utterly exhausting their life had become. He did the household, couple of side jobs, basically turned into her personal councilor, high maintenance kids, constant family drama, he was the defacto help, and everyone agreed, he was obligated, how did none of them see how they were pushing me into my current state? Why didn’t I stand up?
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When he had gotten sick years ago he should have been more clear, the aches in his chest got progressively worse over his last 2 years but everyone brushed it off as him whining.
When he had fainted and discovered his heart was failing he had been shocked to his core how little he saw people care.
He sighs again. Thinking to himself “how on earth did I turn into such a little shit”? Was I the fucking ‘nice guy’ all along? The one they tolerated? Utterly exhausting.” Here at the end, no one bothered to show up except his wife, who was supposed to show up.
”Hey huney? I hate to leave you alone, the babysitter just called and I gotta go”. He looked at her, something in her eyes chokes him. He was always good at seeing what people were up to, freakishly good his overdeveloped sense of empathy saw to that.
He had hidden this from his wife not wanting to freak her out, not wanting to show how well he could read her, by observing body language.
The last couple of years he had consciously started to ignore it, sticking his head in the sand but now he couldn’t, all her body language indicated she was turned on.
His brain hot, she leans in and as she kisses him on the forehead he sees a glimpse of the text. She was texting her boss.
As she leaves the room he waits for a couple of minutes how many of his “kids” were his? He feels his eyes water, his rage boiling. All the warnings of the doctor to not get excited, or angry flash through his mind; he can feel how bad it is for him, his heart rate irregular the pain searing hot, but he didn’t care, 14 years of his life spend on that bitch and she didn’t even have the fucking decency to wait for him to die. His anger boiling him on the inside, nurse rushing in but it is too late he flatlines. his last thoughts: “FUCK these people!”