The Harsh Reality
1153 Words
2
New York City, November 2023
“Tell me you’ve closed the Kyoto deal, Chen.”
Michael Steele stood at the transparent glass window that overlooked the deep blue pool that was behind the penthouse he shared with his wife, Jane Steele.
He had his phone lodged between his ear and shoulder, on a business call with his personal assistant, Lydia Chen.
His free hand lit the stick of c******s that was lodged between his lips, his eyes never leaving the woman that sat close to the pool, her long, honey brown hair, flying in the wind.
The woman he’d fallen in love with.
“You should come over here and hug me, Michael.” Jane’s strong voice cut through the cold and thick air, causing him to jolt.
“Watching me from the window wouldn’t do either of us any good. I’d like to have you close to me, feel your warmth,” she added.
He lowered his voice to a whisper.
“Chen, you have until the end of this week to close that deal. I don’t want to hear some other excuse.”
Then he ended the call and strode out to the pool house, a smile on his lips.
He leaned forward and embraced her from behind. “Hey baby,” he drawled, leaning in and planting a soft kiss on her cheek.
“You know I hate the smell of that crap you take into your lungs, sweetheart. It’s quite putrid.”
“Quite,” Michael responded, smiling.
“What are you doing out here, so early in the morning? Aren’t you cold?”
“How early is it?” Jane asked, rubbing her cheek against his arm.
“It’s 3. am, Jane. You should be in bed, snoring peacefully.”
“Well, that’s the problem. I can’t sleep, Michael.”
A sad smile played on her lips as she stared off into the distance, her eyes watering over.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Michael asked softly, walking around the chair and bending to face her.
“Something has been bothering me lately.”
“What’s that? C’mon, sweetheart. Talk to me.”
“Look at me, Mike, I look nothing like the woman you married. I’ve become a ghost of myself.”
And Michael looked at her.
Jane Steele was an insanely beautiful woman.
Perfectly carved brows. High cheekbones. Full lips. Big, bright, blue eyes.
Her eyes had been his undoing.
But then, he’d fallen in love with the idea of the woman first.
Michael very much loved his wife, no doubt, but there was something far greater than love, in his opinion, that had kept them together for years.
Ambition.
They both had goals that aligned properly.
But then, he’d gone and fallen in love with her softness.
Soft smiles, soft heart, soft kisses.
The woman had changed him completely.
“Oh c’mon, Jane. Please. Don’t say that. You know I’d still very much be in love with you, no matter what.”
“Take a look at your reflection in my eyes, baby. You’re still so perfect and so gorgeous.” He reached out his hand to stroke her cheek, his eyes watering over.
“So beautiful.”
She was still so beautiful, but she also looked so pale now. Thinner than usual. Her whole appearance screamed ‘sick’.
He felt a sick lump climb to his throat whenever he remembered the chances of his wife leaving any moment were high. Too high.
It killed him that there was no known cure to his wife’s brain cancer.
Even her pretty, pretty eyes had lost their glow.
“That’s beside the point, Mike. I’m just trying to point out how this is a subtle reminder of the very fact that I don’t have much time anymore.”
“Jane- “
“So, I’m beginning to reflect on my life, to see how well, and how bad I’ve done. To see how good, and how bad I’ve lived my life.”
“Jane, stop this, okay? You’re not dying, trust me. I’ll comb the whole of this earth to get you adequate treatment. Trust me, hmm?”
“Michael please, I want you to stop trying so hard. My case is just…complicated.” The corners of her lips tilted up in another sad smile. “I want you to leave me a red rose on my coffin, though.”
“Jane!” Michael called as he gripped her palms, crippled by fear.
“Don’t say things like that,” he pleaded.
“The doctors couldn’t even find a cure for my ailment,” Jane pressed, “and they said my chances of surviving are very, very slim. Unless a miracle occurs.”
She shrugged.
“Now, can you possibly perform a miracle that would make me live longer?”
“I-I won’t stop until I do,” Michael replied, his willpower lost as the tears stained his cheek, running through his beard. “Just don’t leave me, Jane. I don’t think I’d be able to live without you.”
Jane giggled softly and slowly brought her hands up until they were resting on Michael’s tear/stained cheeks, wiping the tears to the side.
“My sweet, sweet, Michael. The best male companion any woman would ever want for herself.”
“I’m so lucky to have you, Michael. Loving me through thick and thin, making sure I’m okay, cleaning up after me. It’s not every man that can do that. That ‘would’…do that.”
“I can keep doing that, Jane. I've been a complete d**k to you, baby, and I want to do better now. All those months you were sick and running a fever in bed, I selfishly went about my work. Still do.”
“Baby, tell me. What kind of husband does that? I feel very ashamed for letting my selfish goals blind me from seeing the only treasure I needed.”
He paused.
“You’re my treasure, sweetheart,” he continued, brushing her hair away from her forehead.
“I love you, I- “
“Michael,” Jane called, interrupting him.
“Baby?” she called again, her voice breaking, when she didn’t get a response from him.
“Yes, sweetheart,” Michael answered, moving close to her and cupping her chin with his palm.
“Stop trying so hard to save me, Michael,” she whispered, splaying her fingers across his cheek and stroking gently.
“But- “
“Shh. Michael, please,” she interrupted, closing her eyes.
“There’s something else I’d like you to do for me,” she added as she opened her eyes and watched the conflicting emotions on his face.
It took Michael a long moment before he replied.
“What?” he asked, evidently struggling.
His chest felt tight, and he could hardly breathe.
“There’s someone I’d like you to help me find.”
- Writer
