St Matthew's Passion - By Sam Archer Page 0,51

she had set out to do since entering medical school, and more besides. She was fulfilled, after a fashion. Content, to a degree. She was also desperately, irredeemably sad. The sorrow had worked its way into her blood, her marrow, her DNA. It was a fundamental part of her, and extricating herself from it would be as impossible as turning back time.

In this vision, Fin was with her. Not as something mystical like a ghost, or an angel, but rather as a part of her just as much as the sadness she felt, something that had worked its way into the very cells in her body. Her eyes saw through his, his hands guided her when she was operating and even during such mundane tasks as driving and writing and gesturing during a lecture. His face, his handsome, reassuring, irreplaceable features, was the first thing she saw in her mind’s eye on waking each morning, and the last thing she saw every night.

In this vision, Melissa was alone. She had never married, never had children. Marriage and a family were impossible while Fin was with her. And he’d be with her always, until the day she died and beyond. She wouldn’t want it, couldn’t imagine it, any other way. There’d never be anybody else she could contemplate being with.

The vision was as crystalline, as revelatory, as the one Melissa had experienced at medical school, once she’d understood that trauma surgery was the particular career that had chosen her. She’d understood then that her life was to take a certain direction, and that to attempt to veer from that path would be as futile as trying to stop a juggernaut. Then, though, the understanding had been accompanied by a colossal flare of excitement, by an explosion of purpose within her that had set fire to her ambition and resulted in a blazing streak of success that had brought her to St Matthew’s. This time, on the other hand, the vision of her future was soaked in melancholy, in a resigned acceptance that her life was to be one of high achievement, but only in the intellectual and practical sphere. Emotionally, deep sadness and regret were to be her lot.

Fin, she thought, wanting to close her eyes yet unwilling to take them off his pallid, mesmerising face for even a second. Why haven’t we known each other? We’re destined to be together, so why did we keep apart, while it was possible for us to be together? Before it was too late?

Across the bed from Melissa, Fin’s cardiac monitor began to sound, the beeping gradually increasing in frequency and volume.

She rose from the chair, a knife of ice spearing her heart.

The rate on the monitor had shot up to one hundred and four beats per minute.

The doctor and two nurses hurried over and moved swiftly around Fin, pushing Melissa firmly back, taking charge. She watched the doctor peel back Fin’s upper lids and sweep a pen torch across his pupils, saw the nurses check the attachments of the monitoring equipment, examine the infusion set that led into the central venous line.

This is it, Melissa thought numbly. You’re going, Fin. Leaving me.

Unable to face any more, Melissa turned and stumbled a few steps away, when the sound registered in her consciousness.

The rhythm from the cardiac monitor had slowed.

Fin’s heartbeat had become steadier, less urgent.

Melissa turned back, barely daring to hope.

The registrar ran a hand through his hair, rolled his eyes at Melissa in relief. ‘False alarm.’

One of the nurses caught her eye, gave her a tiny smile.

She knows, thought Melissa.

This time she didn’t sit down after the staff had gone away, but instead stood beside the bed, gazing down at Fin. His face retained its serenity, as if the flurry of the last few minutes hadn’t happened.

And suddenly Melissa understood the vision she’d had for what it was. It had been profound in its truth - she’d never have any man but Fin in her life - but not necessarily accurate in its details. Melissa was destined to die without ever knowing any man again but Fin.

But Fin wasn’t destined to die yet.

He might die. There was in fact a strong chance that he would. But it wasn’t inevitable. And if Melissa could do anything to prevent his death - if there was anything within the realm of human endeavour that she could do to keep him alive - she would make sure she did it.

Her hand reached out, found his under the