Sara's Smile

Part 5

Sunday

The following morning, I had every intention of scooting beneath the covers and between Sara's legs to awaken her in a much more interesting fashion than an alarm clock would. However, upon prying my eyes opened, I noticed that I was naked and alone in the bed and room. Seated, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, seconds later noticing the sheet of paper on her pillow. Reaching for it, I read the short message written in her penmanship.

Morning, sweetheart. Please get dressed and meet me in the living room.

Imagining her coffee table covered with delicious breakfast eats, I pushed back the covers as my stomach growled in anticipation. Following a quick shower, I headed down the stairs casually dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt. I sniffed yet didn't smell anything, including coffee. After that incredible night with Sara, I could definitely use a cup or four of the strongly caffeinated steaming liquid, as we slept very little.

Thinking about the events of last night, and the wee hours of the morning, a grin had settled on my lips by the time I reached the living room. Seated on the couch, Sara glanced over her shoulder, dark eyes meeting mine. The moment I spotted the shine upon those eyes, my grin vanished. Asking what could be wrong, I hurried toward her, occupying the cushion to her right. When she failed to respond, I wrapped an arm across her shoulders, lips briefly touching her temple.

"Sara, talk to me. Are you...last night...did I hurt you?"

She quickly shook her head. "No. No, sweetheart." Her hand squeezed my knee. "Last night you were perfect," she whispered, focused on her lap.

Two fingers underneath her chin, I gently lifted and turned until I could view her beautiful face, a crack forming in my heart when a few tears fell. "Love, what has you so up--"

"It's time," she interrupted me. Removing her hand from my knee, she used it to wipe the tears away.

"Time?"

A shaky breath expelled, Sara grabbed a small black pouch from the coffee table, dropping it on her lap. Wordlessly, I watched her unzip and pull a syringe, a vial containing a clear substance, a rubbing alcohol packet, and one of those tourniquet bands I've seen phlebotomists use from it. Tossing the emptied pouch back on the table, Sara glanced toward me. She cleared her throat before producing words.

"Last week, I made you a promise...and it's time."

"If you still feel it necessary to leave this earth, I'll assist you. Just give me a week, hang in there a week, and I promise."

"You think that I'm going to magically change my mind over the coming week and I won't, Sara. My mind is made up."

"Honestly? I'm not sure that you will. I just hope that you will. However, if you don't, I won't argue with you any longer. You have my word." Dark eyes trailed over my face. "Do I have yours? Do we have a deal?"

Our conversation, the deal we made last Saturday night not long after meeting on the roof when Sara prevented me from jumping. I had fulfilled my end of the deal by helping her to cross off items from her bucket list, and now it was time for her to help me commit suicide. Each day that week I thought about Saturday being my final day, and now that the time had arrived, it somehow slipped my mind. Upon awakening, my first thought was making love to Sara while her mind had obviously been occupied on setting this up. She made a promise to me, and actually kept it.

"Oh," I shortly commented, further speech temporarily unavailable.

Biting her lower lip, Sara searched my face. "Are you ready?"