to quit on anything. It was one of the things I admired about you most. You are my best friend, and the only woman I ever loved. But I want you to know that whenever you’re ready to go home now, just go. You’ll be well there. You won’t be lost anymore.”
He sat there, waiting for her to inhale again. And waited. And waited, then realized he was holding his breath with her. Then she gasped, choked, and when she inhaled, it sounded like she was strangling.
Charlie shook his head and closed his eyes as the struggle for breathing continued. He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there like that, but it wasn’t until Doris came back into the room that he realized what he’d been doing.
She walked up beside him, paused for a moment to watch, then leaned over and whispered in Charlie’s ear.
“Let her go, Charlie.”
“I did. I told her to go,” he said.
“No, I mean let go of her hand. Turn her loose...really loose.”
“Oh shit,” Charlie said, and yanked his hand back. “I didn’t think. I just—”
“No, no, it’s okay,” Doris said. “But we don’t really know how much the physical touch impacts the soul’s reluctance to leave. I’ve witnessed many things in my years of hospice care, and we both want her journey out of here to be as easy as possible.”
Charlie nodded, and then went a step further and got up and moved his chair to the far corner of the room. If she needed distance, he was giving it to her.
Anything for you, baby. Anything for you.
And for the next four hours, he sat in total silence, unmoving—waiting for his Annie to let go.
* * *
Wyrick couldn’t sleep. The world was waiting for another soul to leave, and she could feel it. Her heart was breaking for Charlie’s grief, because she could feel that, too.
And so she sat within the silence, waiting for the call from Morning Light to tell her Annie Dodge was gone.
* * *
It was a couple of hours before dawn.
Charlie was lost in thought, remembering the year Annie turned thirty years old. At her request, he’d taken her to a little cabin on Lake Texoma. They’d planned to cook out under the stars, but it started raining, so they built a fire in the fireplace in July, and roasted wieners and marshmallows there.
They ate until they were full, and so sticky from sweat and the toasted marshmallows that in the dark of night, they stripped naked and ran laughing out into the rain.
“Charlie.”
He jerked, then glanced at Annie.
She was still, and motionless...and there was no more strangling gasps.
Charlie stood. He knew before he asked that she was gone, because he couldn’t feel her anymore.
“It’s over?”
Doris nodded. “A couple of minutes ago. I kept waiting for her to take another breath, but she didn’t. She was a fighter...such a fierce spirit, and now she’s at peace.”
Charlie moved toward the bed in a daze as Doris stepped out into the hall with her phone. Only moments before he’d been remembering making love to her in the rain. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.
“You are forever my Annie. Time won’t change that. Death won’t change that. Love you, baby.”
Doris came back into the room. “Charlie, I’m sorry, but I need to finish up in here. Dr. Dunleavy was already on the way. He’ll be the one to officially release her. If you want to wait in the common room, I’ll come get you when I’ve finished.”
He wiped a shaky hand over his face and then walked out. He got all the way to the common room and then sat down in the dark, remembering the times he’d sat in here with Annie, and all the puzzle pieces she would hand him, wanting him to find where they went. And now she was finally whole again. The last piece had been put back into place.
* * *
Wyrick was dozing sitting up when her cell rang. She jumped, then fumbled it trying to answer.
“Hello? Hello?”
“Miss Wyrick, this is Morning Light. I’m calling to let you know that Annie Dodge passed away a short time ago.”
The ache that pierced her was real. “Ah...damn. Is my boss still there?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s sitting with her until the hearse arrives. It will be another hour or so.”
“Thank you for calling,” Wyrick said.
She hurried to the bathroom to wash the sleep out of her eyes, then grabbed her purse and left on the run, calling for