You've been married to your wife Angelica for a few years now but recently you've started noticing how cold and distant she's been acting towards you. This has been going on for a few months now where she'll come home from work later than usual and basically completely ignore you for the entire evening, there's also been quite a lot of instances recently where you two have planned dates together just for her to forget them, leaving you alone.

Today is your birthday and naturally, you expect your wife of all people to remember but to your surprise that very morning plays out like any other and she doesn't wish you a happy birthday once before she leaves the house to go to work so you decide not to think too much about it and instead decide to go about your own day.

You go through your day like usual and are relaxing on the couch, watching some TV and you've noticed how late it's become yet Angelica still hasn't arrived back home which causes you to worry and so you decide to call her and she answers with is that she'll be home soon. A few more hours pass and it's currently 3 A.M and Angelica still hasn't arrived back home but then you hear it, the door opening but you remain seated in the kitchen where you've been waiting and then you see Angelica walk inside, rubbing her shoulder lightly before stopping and looking at you with tired eyes. "Oh, you're still awake, huh?" She says in a slightly curious but also nonchalant tone, almost as if she doesn't care about your presence.

Angelica sighs and takes off her blazer before hanging it up on the coat rack, revealing that she's still in some of her work attire. "It was fine...Long as usual" She says with a small shrug before walking over to the kitchen counter, where she removes her shoes and sets them aside. Looking at you, she tilts her head slightly to the side. "Why are you up so late?"

She watches as you sit on the couch, looking relaxed despite your late hour. Angelica walks over to stand before you, close enough that she can feel your body heat but not too close that it's uncomfortable for either of you. With a small huff, she crosses her arms beneath her breasts and leans forward slightly, a slight look of annoyance on her face as she asks "You couldn't have waited until I was gone to start staying up late?"

Angelica narrows her eyes at you and takes a small step closer, her breasts almost brushing against your chest. "Excuse me?" She asks in a harsher tone than intended, taken aback by the accusation but not wanting to show it. "You're starting to sound like you have some issues with how I handle my time outside of work and home."

She glances down at your chest briefly before looking back up at your face, anger starting to boil beneath the surface now. "I thought we were a team," she says quietly, bitterness lacing her words. "Guess not anymore, huh?" She crosses her arms tighter and takes another step closer, their bodies almost touching from chest to hip now.

As soon as she realizes her words have cut deeper than intended, it's too late; anger and frustration surge through her. She watches silently as you walk away, her mouth opening to speak several times before finally snapping shut each time. Tears well up in her eyes but she refuses to let them fall, gritting her teeth instead until she feels the urge to cry has passed.

With a shaky breath, Angelica turns around and moves back toward the kitchen counter where she had put down her shoes earlier. She leans against it heavily, feeling exhausted both physically and emotionally from this argument and realizing how far apart they've grown in recent months. As much as it hurts, she knows that maybe she did forget about your birthday...but does he really have to make everything into such a huge deal?

Tears finally spill over the edge of her eyel

Horrified, she jumps up from her perch against the counter and rushes into the bedroom where you are. "Larry?" She asks shakily, terrified at the sight of blood streaming from your mouth as you cough violently onto the floor. Panic wells up inside her as adrenaline courses through her veins. Without thinking about anything else, she kneels down beside you and starts to frantically feel for a pulse point on your wrist or neck but can't seem to find one. "Oh my God!" She breathes out in despair before leaning forward and pressing two fingers against your chest in an attempt to perform CPR as she remembers seeing it done on TV once.

Her heart pounding, Angelica continues with the CPR until she feels your chest rise slightly beneath her palms. She pulls away, breathing heavily as relief washes over her, but quickly realizes that this is just the beginning. You need medical attention immediately and there's no time to lose. Her eyes dart around the room, searching for something they can use. "Larry," she whispers urgently, gently shaking your shoulders to try and wake you up fully. "We need to get you to a hospital."

"Please, just hold on," she begs, voice thick with emotion as she wraps her arms around you and pulls you close in an attempt to warm your bare skin. She's terrified that if she lets go for even a moment, you might slip away from her again. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean it," she whispers brokenly against the shell of your ear before realizing how useless those words are at this point and deciding not to say anything else until they reach help.

As she holds you close, running her hands over your body in an attempt to keep you warm and reassure herself that you're still alive, the sound of sirens grow louder outside. It takes everything in her not to jump up and rush toward the window; instead, she remains where she is until the paramedics bust through the door a moment later, their expressions etched with concern as they quickly take over from her. She steps aside, allowing them to do what needs to be done while watching anxiously as they begin working on reviving you. "My husband..." she manages to say before taking a deep breath and continuing, "He's been forgetting things lately...like appointments...and our anniversary..." Her voice trails off as she waits for news, any news, about your condition.

The paramedics work quickly and efficiently to stabilize you before loading you into the ambulance. Angelica holds onto your hand, willing you to hold on as she follows them outside and climbs into the back with you. The sirens continue to blare as they race through the streets toward the hospital, her heart in her throat the entire time. She watches anxiously as one of the paramedics begins running tests on your vitals while he talks to the doctors at the hospital, praying that they'll know what to do to help you recover. Her fingers entwine with yours, silently promising that she won't leave your side no matter what happens next.

The hours in the waiting room feel like days as she anxiously waits for news on your condition. Every time a doctor or nurse walks out, her heart stops momentarily before racing again when they pause to speak with her. She hasn't eaten since you first collapsed and can barely bring herself to think about food, let alone sleep; all she can do is stare at the clock on the wall and wish time would move faster so that she knows how you're doing.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity but is really only a few hours, one of the doctors emerges from your room and makes their way over to her seat. She stands immediately, her heart in her throat as the doctor takes a seat beside her. "Mr. and Mrs. Green," he says gently, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I'm afraid I have some news for you." His expression is somber

As the doctor continues speaking, her world crumbles around her. Every word he says feels like another stab in the heart; every sentence another nail in their coffin. She listens numbly as he explains that while you did suffer some temporary damage from lack of oxygen to your brain during the CPR and the blood loss, the doctors were able to stabilize you for now. However, there is still a chance of permanent damage or even death if your condition does not improve over time. Her eyes sting with unshed tears as she tries to absorb this information; she feels like her chest might explode from the weight of it all.

The doctor continues by saying that you'll need to remain in the ICU for further observation and treatment, but they won't know anything more about your prognosis until after several days have passed. His words ring hollow as she struggles to comprehend what this means for both

She sits down hard in the uncomfortable plastic chair, her body feeling suddenly leaden. "What...what do you mean by 'permanent damage'?" she manages to ask, her voice small and hoarse. The doctor takes a deep breath before explaining that there is always the risk of brain damage or organ failure with situations like this; it could be temporary or permanent, but it won't be clear for several days until they have more information about your progress.

The word "permanent" echoes through her mind like a dark chant as she closes her eyes tightly, struggling to maintain composure. She reaches out to take one of your limp hands in hers, rubbing her thumb gently over the back of your knuckles as she tries desperately not to lose it completely right here in front of everyone else in the waiting room. "We'll just have to wait and see," she says finally when

Her hand trembles slightly as she presses yours, squeezing gently in an attempt to comfort herself more than you. "I'm so sorry this happened," she whispers, her voice thick with unshed tears. "If I had known...I would have done something differently." Her words are barely audible even to her own ears as guilt and self-loathing wash over her like a tidal wave. She sits there for several long minutes, silent and still as she struggles with the weight of what's happening and the knowledge that everything might change forever because of it.

Finally, gathering her courage, she asks the doctor if she can see you now. He nods solemnly, his expression understanding as he leads her down the hall to your room in the ICU. The walk seems to take an eternity; every step further from the waiting room and closer to your bed brings with it a

She watches as the doctor and nurse prepare you, making sure all your tubes and monitors are in place before stepping aside to allow her entry. Taking a deep breath, she walks slowly toward the bed, her eyes trailing over every beeping machine and unfamiliar medical device until they finally rest on your pale face. For several moments, she doesn't trust herself to speak; all she can do is stand there, watching you breathe, waiting for some sign that you know she's here with you.

Finally, mustering up the courage, she reaches out to gently brush a lock of hair back from your forehead. "Larry," she whispers, her voice hoarse and thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry." Tears spill over the edge of her eyelids as she takes your hand in hers, leaning forward to press their palms together. She can feel the

With all my heart, I'm sorry too. Whatever happened...I didn't mean to hurt you. I swear to God, if there was something else I could do...I would. Just please, hold on. Please don't leave me, Larry. I need you.