One day at the hospital, when we both laughed

There is no face to look upon, only bloodied bandages wound about the head, two lidless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The blanket covers the rest of the body, a small act of mercy by the nurse, though strictly, aside from the dressings, the burns should be exposed to air as much as possible. He is frightened by this; pity is only for strangers.

He sits at the foot of the bed, his sight beginning to blur. The life-support machines whir and beep urgently, ticking the time left for final parting words. But tears flow easier than speech, and he finally finds himself sobbing, making apologies. If he had only reconciled with him that day, Paul would not have gone through all the drama and taken the ill-fated bus. If he had not been too busy with work, if he had spent more time with Paul, perhaps-- 

Then he hears someone walking toward them. It is a woman in her late thirties, dressed in a baggy shirt, which advertised a brand of milk, and sweatpants. Then all of a sudden, she was sobbing hysterically, hugging Paul fiercely. He tries not to be baffled by the woman’s sudden outburst. Paulhas older sisters and female cousins he has never met. 

When the woman has stopped sobbing, she asks him if he was a friend. He says yes, of course; discretion in everything had always been his and Paul’s choice. 

“I’m his wife, Jane. You’re a friend?”

He fumbles for answer, although what he really wants to do is to ask another question, to make sure he understands who the woman said she is. “Yes. No. I’m sorry, what was it?”

“I asked if you’re one of his friends.”

“No… just a friend… at the office… I didn’t know he was married.”

“For three years.” She pauses, blows her nose with her already wet handkerchief. “I know he was always so quiet, always hesitant to say things about himself.” 

He does not say anything, and a sharp silence sliced the air between them. “Have you seen the nurse? I don’t know what to do now really. I just left the baby at home with the cleaner.”

“You have a kid?”

“Kids. The other one is turning three this June.”

He is now confused, almost dizzy with a thousand questions going in his head, his thoughts toying with the possibility of betrayal. Then just as he is about to give up, leave, say good bye to Paul’s wife, at the corner of his eye, he notices a man sitting at the bed beside Paul’s. He ignores him.

Then he hears the man calling his name, the voice strangely familiar. He turns toward the voice, and he feels the blood draining from his face as he realizes who it is.  

“Hey, sissy, are you sobbing?” ▪