I open my arms, and she climbs into them, curling up against me.
I know it’s not happening, but I can feel her body pressed up against mine, as real as it always used to seem.
“I can’t let you go,” I whisper to her, smelling the warm jasmine of her hair. No, not jasmine. Honeysuckle. From the courtyard.
She looks up at me, her face sad. There was so much I wanted to ask her in all the other dreams, but none of it matters now. I just want to hold her for as long as I can.
I don’t see her lips move, but I can hear her whispered voice echoing around the yellow room we are in.
“He was awake now. Living two different lives. One with her…”
The door to the yellow room creaks open, and sitting on the other side is my hospital room, a scene from earlier today right before my eyes. Me, Kimberly, and Sam, laughing while we eat off-brand M&M’S and Swedish Fish that Kim bought at the gift shop in the hospital lobby.
“… and one with them,” her voice continues.
I stare at myself through the door, my figure freezing suddenly and turning to look directly at me. My lips move, but Marley’s voice comes out.
“Don’t let go.”
Never.
I pull her close to me, holding her tighter as rain begins to fall all around us, drenching the yellow lampshades, the Doris Day wallpaper starting to peel off the wall. The only thing that stays dry is us and the bed we’re lying on, Marley safe in my arms.
The sheets of water get closer and closer, closing in on us. I fight to keep my eyes open, to keep myself there just a few minutes longer. But eventually my brain takes over, and even though I don’t want to, I wake up back in my real hospital room, where it’s still the middle of the night. Arms empty. Alone.
Water splatters loudly against my window, startling me.
It stops abruptly only to start again a couple of seconds later. On and off, over and over, the sound filling the room.
Sprinklers. In the courtyard.
I roll over to my other side, turning quickly away from the window, my leg screaming out in pain. Frustrated, I roll onto my back, but I can’t get comfortable on this hard-as-hell hospital mattress.
I turn my head to look outside, watching as the sprinkler noisily batters the glass again. My eyes find a small snail crawling slowly across the window. I watch it fight its way along.
I want to tell it to just sit there and wait it out. There’s no use in the struggle. But suddenly, without warning, it’s plucked from the glass by a pair of fingers that disappear from view just as quickly as they came.
Huh?
I look closer, realizing there’s someone outside in the courtyard. Pushing myself out of bed, I grab my crutches and shuffle to the window. A girl in dark clothes on the other side of the glass is moving up and down the courtyard, plucking snails out of the way of the sprinkler and moving them to safety.
I smile sadly to myself, watching as she looks around, finding another and moving it over to one of the benches, setting it carefully down on the wood.
I freeze as she turns, the glowing lamplight illuminating her face.
Marley.
My heart speeds into triple time, my stomach going molten as it flips over itself. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to wake myself up. To pull myself out of this cruel second dream. But when I open them, she’s still there.
This is real.
Before I can process what I’m doing, I’m booking it out of my room and flying down the hallway. I almost make it to the door before a nurse slides in front of me, blocking my way.
“Where do you think you’re going this time?” she asks me, crossing her arms. “Are you determined to rebreak your leg? No more evening excursions for you.”
I try to get past her, desperately shuffling right and left, but she’s too quick for a guy on crutches with only one working leg.
“Goddammit…，” I say, frustrated. I need to get out into that courtyard. I have to get to her before I lose her again. She’s here. There’s no fog. No clashing of my dreams with reality.
“Really?” the nurse says, plucking a crutch out from under my arm.
I wobble, grabbing ahold of the wall and bracing myself, but it’s obvious I’m not getting any farther like this.
“See you guys in a few,” a nurse in a pair of blue scrubs says to the ladies at the station, oblivious to our standoff. She walks past us. “They’ve got me in Cardiology the rest of this week.”
I glance to the side at her, my eyes widening when I see her eyes, her long brown hair, the wrinkle in her forehead, all of it triggering a memory. Her face peering down at me as I woke up, her voice calling out into the hallway for Dr. Benefield.