count to ten; a.i

S E V E N

SEVEN

The Summer seemed to last for an eternity, this year.

Every day, we were cooped up in our little home - you doing work on the computer, me slumped over on the couch fanning myself in my pregnant state.

Every night, you'd go out to the pub and come home drunk.

Every night, I would cry myself to sleep, knowing the person lying next to me wasn't the person he was a few hours ago. I have no idea what came over you that year, Ashton, but it changed our lives forever. You weren't yourself anymore, you weren't confident.

I wondered if the depression had come back.

I prayed each day and each night that you would return sober for once. Then we could kiss each other goodnight and I wouldn't taste the stale vodka on your breath.

Then one night, you didn't come home at all. I called everyone - your friends, your mother, your coworkers. They all said that they didn't know.

Were you cheating on me?

I didn't get too sleep much that night. Amelia was stirring in the next room, and the baby was kicking too much for me to shut my eyes, anyway.

I heard a call come in through the telephone and I sat up ubruptly, reaching over and praying that Amelia wouldn't wake up.

Turns out my prayers are never answered.

'Hello?' I said.

'This is the county hospital, on seventh avenue. We believe we have your husband Ashton Irwin here,' A kind woman said.

'Jesus, what's happened to him?' I said, panicking. I clutched the phone between my ear and shoulder as I ran into Amelia's room to pick her up.

'He seems to have passed out on the street. Two gentlemen carried him in - Michael Clifford and Lucas Hemmings. Are they friends of yours?' She explained.

'No, no.' I replied as I quickly wrapped Amelia in a blanket and plonked her in a stroller before getting unchanged myself. 'What ward is he in? I'll be there right away,'

'Ward C, mam,' The receptionist said.

'Thank you,' I said quickly, before hanging up. Before I dressed myself to go out, I lay down on my bed, my body bare, and cried. I remember feeling the most vu;nerable I'd ever been. I'd been with you, Ashton, for almost seven years, and we'd had two children together.

If you died I'd have stopped praying and started crying.

---

I remember that drive to be the worst one of my life. The whole way I was trying to think of what could have possibly happened to you. Every senario ended in death.

When I arrived at the hospital I ran in, pushing Amelia at about a hundred miles an hour in front of me. I burst through the doors and ran to the receptionists desk, asking for the directions to  ward C.

A kind lady came up to me and introduced herself as Samantha - the girl I'd spoken to. She offered to take Amelia to the children's area and I just nodded, pushing past her. I felt like if I spoke the only thing that would come out of my mouth was my dinner.

I remember running down the hallways of ward C, my hands clutched around my pregnant belly. My head was swinging from side to side as I saw blurred patients sitting in bed - watching tv, reading, some knitting. None of them were you.

I got to the end of the ward and finally looked in to the second last room, seing a patient that wasn't blurred. It was you. You were lying in bed with about all these cords coming from your body. I rushed in, trying to ignore the ache in my muscles for doing all that running while bearing a child.

'Ashton,' I said quietly, then louder, 'Ashton!'

You turned your head ever so slightly towards me and smiled. My breathing slowed, becoming heavy and hard to control. I slumped down on the seat next to the bed and rested my head on the wall behind me, clenching my eyes shut.

'It's not as bad as you think, Ava,' You said. I felt your hand wrap around mine, warm and clammy.

'Then what is it, Ashton? Because right now it seems pretty bad. I'm scared,' I cried, my eyes still shut. I dared not open them in case the tears fell.

'Liver failure,' You'd said quietly. I turned my head and my eyes blinked open. You gave my hand an encouraging squeeze and your eyebrows furrowed together. 'They want to keep me in for a week, maybe two,'

'Why, Ashton?' I said, more to myself than to you. 'Why did you have to drink so much? Life can be enjoyed with saturday sex and comedy-night Wednesdays on TV. Why did you feel the need to add cheap wine and cigarettes?'

'I enjoy saturday sex and comedy night Wednesdays,' You said quietly, smiling ever so slightly. 'Well, I did. Saturday sex is out of the option and I work too late for comedy night Wednesdays. So instead I opt for cheap wine and cigarettes. Is that a bad thing?'

I tried not to let my inner demons get to me then. You were thirty-two. You shouldn't have been dying. I was twenty-six. I shouldn't be becoming a widow. I didn't want to be a single mother, because that involves a life without you.

'Just promise me something, Ashton,' I sigh. 'Don't die on me,'

'I promise I won't die on you,' You said slowly, your eyes drooping.

I'd always loved it when you sung lullabies to Amelia, because your voice was angelic to me. Well - I say lullabies - I mean Coldplay songs. You closed your eyes to go to sleep and a smile formed on your face slowly as you sung,

'Look at the stars, look how they shine for you. In everything you do...'

You didn't get to finish the sentence before you drifted off, and I knew you needed your rest.

'And it was all yellow,'

So I finished it for you.