“I’m dying… I am, aren’t I?”
“Well-ll,” I answered.
I was reluctant to tell the truth. “Yes, actually.”
Despite her drug-induced calm, she flinched.
Until I added, “We all are, darling. From the day we’re born. ”
“Not you,” she said. There was no tremor in her voice now; an end of life surge maybe? Bizarrely, this thought seemed to amuse her; as if she was enjoying her last conversation.
“Not you,” she repeated. “I couldn’t live without you… “ and she laughed out loud. Hollow… and yet it was a laugh.
And her eyes closed for the last time.