Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Timothy's condition left a hollow ache in Sallie's chest. She needed comfort just

as much as anyone—someone to look her in the eye and assure her that yes, the surgery would help, that yes, Timothy could wake up if they just went through with

it.

Caring too much about someone or something-made you vulnerable to every twist of fate. The more you cared, the more you oscillated between hope and dread, and the weaker your heart seemed to grow. You needed someone else to lend you strength when your own ran out.

Sallie looked at Jessica with desperate hope, silently pleading for reassurance.

Jessica met Sallie's worried, vacant gaze and understood exactly what she was thinking. She felt the same way-could feel the weight of it pressing down on her. She'd been through her own cycles of hope and disappointment and knew just how much a few words of comfort could mean.

But Jessica didn't dare make any promises either, so she asked, "Is it time for visiting hours yet? I'd like to see him before we talk about anything else."

Ten more minutes. Let's go in

came by to let Timothy's family know it was time to change into sterile gowns. Only two visitors were allowed

changing room, while Vince found a

down next to him. "What do you think about Timothy's

it. At least it gives us a better chance than just waiting and hoping for a miracle. If

and opportunity always come hand

atmosphere was too heavy for small talk; everyone's nerves were stretched

entered the ICU. The sight of Timothy

IV dripped steadily into his arm. His handsome face was swollen,

streamed down

back when they first met. From that moment, he'd seemed

now, seeing him like this, so fragile and

him from afar, standing tall and untouchable,