After: a Maxerica Story

Part 5: The Last Chapter

"Please take care of her," I beg. "She's going to hurt. This family is everything to her. Please, please, just make sure she is okay."

"I swear, your daughter will never be alone. I will take care of her. She will be okay." He pulls me in for a short embrace. "Thank you for the way you raised her. Thank you for giving me the single most important thing in my life."

I can't help but let a tear escape. "And thank you for being so good to the most important thing in my life, Xander. She is lucky to have you, and you are lucky to have her. Never let her go."

"I would never think of it."

I walk over to the glass, kiss my grandchildren on their foreheads, and squeeze Amberly's hand. 

There's no going back now.

I lift my chin, roll my shoulders back, and walk like a queen to the entrance of Maxon's isolation room, reminding myself that he needs me with every step. Xander and Amberly pull their children back, keeping themselves a good distance from the room. The doctors do the same, covered head to toe in their protective equipment. For a moment, I doubt myself; should I be wearing that, too? Am I being selfish for doing this? Should I be doing everything I can to keep myself alive, even when my husband is dying of this horrible disease?

And then I remind myself: together, forever. Through sickness and health. I want to be there with him, fully, not with the knowledge that he will pass on and I will stay. I want to hold his hand and feel his skin, lay with him, and hold him through his last breaths... even if it means my own last breaths will soon follow. 

With one final breath, I open the door and walk into the room. I immediately hear the door slam behind me, followed by immense silence - so quiet, it's almost deafening. Swallowing hard, I move towards the bed. Maxon seems to be sleeping fitfully, looking weaker by the minute. I take his hand in my own and let another tear fall. 

"My love," I whisper.

Unexpectedly, he opens his eyes. At first, he seems confused, as if he's not sure why he's here. But then his eyes find my own, and reality hits him.

"America," he says with a cough. "What - what are you doing here? What's going on? You can't be... you can't be here."

I sit on the edge of his bed, looking down at him. "I had to. I had to be here."

He struggles to sit up. I hold the back of his head, supporting him. After he takes a sip of water from the glass I got from the table next to us, he sighs. He doesn't even try to hide the concern, sadness, and frustration in his eyes. 

"My dear," he starts, "I'm dying, and you know that. And now.... and now you will too."

"I couldn't let you be alone." I can barely get the words out. This can't be happening. This can't be real.

He turns his head towards the glass wall, and I follow his gaze. My heart shatters into a million pieces; Xander is looking back at us as Amberly sobs into his shoulder. She looks so broken, so defeated. A wave of guilt passes over me as I realize what I've done.

"Maybe it's not too late," Maxon murmurs. "Maybe if you leave now, you won't catch it. We can say goodbye, and you can live and be with our family."

I can tell the words are like a knife digging into his chest. He doesn't want to be alone.

"I am not leaving you." To make my decision final, I lean in and kiss him softly, as if anything more would break him.

"America..."

"Maxon." I hold his head in my hands and stroke his cheek with my thumb. "I love you. I know what I'm doing and I know what it means. Our children have each other and they have their own families to take care of now. We taught them everything we could've."