Willow stood outside the doorway of the Robert’s hospital room, peering in through the glass pane. She smiled to herself as she imagined him seeing her, that familiar grin spreading over his face.

“Hey you,” he’d say, his eyes twinkling with promise. “Come here.”

He’d pull her close and kiss her, softly at first, but them with more ferocity, running his hands over her body and moaning from somewhere deep in the back of his throat.

Willow shook her head imperceptibly, bringing herself back to reality. She took a deep breath and pushed the door to his room open. Robert lay peacefully in the crisp white bed. He didn’t open his eyes or smile at her. There were no kisses or hugs. He was exactly the same as he had been for the last 35 days; perfectly still, the machines next to him keeping him alive.

Marian looked up expectantly from where she was sitting by the window. Her expression turned to disdain. “Oh. It’s just you.”

She rubbed her eyes briefly, as if the simple action would somehow erase the dark circles that had formed under them. Silver flecks of hair kissed her temples at exactly the same place as they did on Robert. Jill was curled up in the armchair in the corner, staring at the ceiling. She made no indication that she had noticed Willow at all. Her knees were pulled up and she rested her chin on them, her fingers clasped tightly in front of her.

Willow was always struck by the uncanny resemblance between Robert and his sisters. She’d only ever seen them previously in the photos that were dotted around Robert’s apartment; the two sisters, laughing, staring adoringly at their ‘baby’ brother. They were a close knit family as far as Willow could tell and he’d spoken fondly and often of them.

“I can’t wait for you to meet them,” he’d said to Willow on so many occasions. “They’re going to love you.”

She suspected that Robert might rethink that sentiment if he woke up.

When, Willow corrected herself. When he wakes up.

“I bought you something to eat,” Willow said, putting the homemade ginger cake with coconut whipped cream on the table. Marian raised an eyebrow but made no move to thank her.

Every day Willow bought in something for Robert’s sisters – cakes of all sizes, shapes and colours; creamy, mouthwatering quiches; sweet and savoury pies: You name it, she’d baked it – and every day, Marian and Jill would refuse to even taste them. Willow had been on a baking bender over the last few weeks. It was partly a gesture of goodwill because she knew that Jill and Marian refused to leave Robert’s side, but mostly because baking generally helped her alleviate stress. Although this time, nothing she made even loosened the knot that had firmly planted itself in the pit of her stomach.

The only person who seemed grateful for the food was Samuel, Robert’s son, and although Willow hadn’t seem much of her former pupil since she’d started dating his father, he was the only one from the family that had uttered a civil word to her in a month. In fact, it was on his insistence that Willow should be allowed to visit every day, even though it was restricted to family only. His aunts had made it perfectly clear that Willow was nothing but a nuisance and had tried to stop her coming, but Sam – thank goodness – had fought in her corner.

They had got off to a shaky start, Willow and Robert’s sisters. Willow had rushed to the hospital as soon as she heard. Jill and Marian were already there, doing all they could to hold themselves together as a support for Samuel. When Willow finally arrived – many hours after the accident had occurred – they raised an eyebrow at each other. So, this was the girl that Robert had been sleeping with. In their minds, Willow was nothing but a poor teacher who had used their nephew to latch onto his extremely wealthy father in the hopes that she could gain access to the family riches. It didn’t help that she was significantly younger than Robert and didn’t have two cents to rub together (Yes, they had checked. They were that type of family. They called it protective; others called it snobbish). It was all terribly Austen-esque and in any other circumstances, Willow would have probably found the whole situation hilarious.

Willow had tried desperately to be their friend. Given the circumstances, it would have been nice to pull together and offer support for each other as they waited for Robert to wake up. But they had already decided that she was no good for him and even though they never said it, she could tell they blamed her: If Robert hadn’t been spoiling her; if Robert hadn’t been rushing; if Robert had never even met her… if, if, if.

“She’s a gold digging whore,” Willow had heard Jill hiss to her sister one day, soon after the accident. “If it wasn’t for this… this woman,’ she spat the word as though it were a bad taste, “he wouldn’t be here. She probably expects a cut of the will or something, that’s why she comes in every day. To make everyone think that she was really in love with him when all she was after was his money.”

“It’s worse than that,” Marian had said in a low voice. “The doctors found this.”

Willow didn’t know what Marian showed her sister, but it was followed by a list of expletives delivered with such velocity that Willow didn’t even catch them all. “Strumpet”, “hussy” and “conniving, greedy bitch” featured strongly though.

***

The doctor walked in as soon as Willow had sat down and taken Robert’s hand. It still felt warm, although his fingers were thinner than before and the rough callouses at the base of each finger were no longer there. The doctor acknowledged Willow with a perfunctory nod and turned to Marian.

“I’ve bought the papers for you to sign,” she said.

Willow’s mouth dropped open. They couldn’t be those papers, could they? She’d overheard Marian fighting with the doctor a few days prior. It turned out that Robert had a clause in his will, which stated that should he be declared brain dead, he didn’t want to be kept alive for more than one month. Why that amount of time, no one knew. Marian was his next of kin, and she had pleaded with the doctors to keep him on life support for longer in the hopes that he would start to show signs of responsiveness. The doctors had humoured her for nearly a week (Willow suspected because the family had contributed a significant amount of money to the hospital) but they were now being firm: they did not want the legal ramifications should this come back on them.

As it turns out, Robert had specific clauses in his will for just about every horrible situation that could have happened to him: from kidnapping to organ failure, he had it covered. Some may have thought it paranoid, but Willow suspected it was because he wanted everyone to be able to get on with their lives with a minimum of fuss over him. Contrary to her original opinion of him, she had learnt that Robert didn’t like taking up people’s precious time when it wasn’t necessary. And she loved him for it.

Marian scrawled her signature on the bottom of the form, without even reading it. A tear ran down her cheek and she hurriedly brushed it away.

“Would you like a few minutes to say goodbye?” the doctor said gently.

“Wait,” Willow interrupted. “This is happening now? As in, this second?”

“No one is forcing you to stay and watch,” Jill said nastily.

Willow clenched her jaw, dangerously close to tears. Now was not the time to get into a fight. “You could have told me,” she said as evenly as she could. “Given me some warning.”

Jill swung around and faced her. Her eyes were flashing. “Why? So you could turn up the drama a few more notches and make people think you were in this for something more than the money?”

“I don’t…”

Jill cut her off. “I know your kind. All innocence and smiles but then you get your claws in. If it wasn’t for you then none of this…”

“Jill.” Marian’s voice was low and calm.

She nodded towards the door. Samuel was standing there, looking wide eyed from Jill to Willow. No one spoke for quite some time. Sam was the one who finally broke the silence.

“It’s not her fault,” he said in a small voice. “They do love each other, you know. She makes him happy.”

***

When the doctor eventually came back, no one asked Willow to leave. Jill was twisting her skirt between her fingers, her knuckles white. Marian held onto Samuel tightly as though she would never let him go. Sam could barely even look at his father. Willow’s heart ached for the boy. Having to live through this all again barely two years after his mother had passed away.

Without any fuss, the doctor turned off the life support machine.

Willow stared at Robert’s face. There were tears running down her cheeks, but she didn’t even notice. She was looking for some kind of movement; a fluttering of lashes; an involuntary spasm. Her sleepless nights – when not spent baking – had been dedicated to googling various derivatives of ‘chances of waking up from a coma’. She knew it was a long shot, but it had happened to other people. And if anyone she knew could pull through, it was Robert. Please, she thought to herself. Please.
A few mortifying seconds of silence passed, not a sound emanating from the EKG machine next to him. But then, suddenly…a staccato beep. Followed by another. And another.

There was a collective intake of breath in the room.

“You hear that?” Jill said. “It means he’s going to be OK?” She turned to the doctor, her eyes desperate. “That’s what it means, isn’t it?”

Before the doctor had time to answer, a single, long mechanical scream pierced the air. The sound seemed to go on forever. No one moved. Willow knew she would never forget that noise; not for as long as she lived.

Eventually, the doctor switched the EKG machine off and the room was silent.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said softly.

***

Willow quietly left the hospital room for the last time. The others were still standing around Robert’s bed, motionless. She didn’t think they would miss her. She took a deep, shaky breath and focussed on getting one foot to step in front of the other down the long corridor to the exit of the hospital. She paused as the sliding doors opened and stepped out into the bright sunlight.