A Five-Minute Life

“You don’t have enough to keep loving me. Only five minutes.”

“That’s all I need. That’s all I ever needed.”

He held me until sleep came. I fought it for as long as I could, terrified I’d wake up back in the prison. But exhaustion won out and when I woke again. I knew where I was. I knew when I was. Here. I was still here. The dark, quiet room seemed to keep the amnesia at bay, but I could feel the invisible vastness, infinite and claustrophobic at the same time, surrounding me. Suffocating me with emptiness.

Jimmy lay asleep on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes, his mouth drawn down. I wanted to wake him and kiss him and talk to him. Tell him everything. To get in a lifetime’s worth of words and thoughts and life in one night. But I was fading away.

I slipped off the bed and went to the desk by the window. It was late afternoon, but with the shades drawn, it was dark. I clicked on the desk lamp, then looked to Jimmy. He slept on.

I took a pen and paper from the hotel stationery and began to write. Three times, I went away and came back to find my pen in midair or scraping an errant line on the paper. I pulled my focus as best as I could and when I was finished, I folded the page in half and crept back across the room, to the wall where Jimmy’s guitar case leaned.

I kneeled down and…

Why am I on the floor in front of Jimmy’s guitar?

A paper was in my hand, folded in half.

It came back to me in a rush and I grasped onto the consciousness with my entire being.

Stay. Please, stay.

Quietly, carefully, I set the guitar case on the floor and clicked open the little latches. I laid the note on the warm, pale wood of his guitar, shut the case, and set it back against the wall.

Jimmy rolled onto his side when I slipped back into bed. I lay face-to-face with him. My beautiful man. Peaceful in sleep.

My eyes were already falling shut. My thoughts breaking apart and I somehow knew they weren’t coming back. I wasn’t coming back. Not all of me. Not the way I had been.

“I love you, Jimmy,” I whispered.

I leaned in and softly kissed him goodbye.

Chapter 37

Jim

A knock came at the door around five in the morning. I opened it to a crowd of people: a hotel security guard, two EMTs, Dr. Chen, and Rita Soto.

Chen went immediately to Thea, who was still asleep. Rita hugged me and I held on tight, happier to see her than I thought possible.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you,” I said.

“I wasn’t expecting to still have a job,” she said.

“Is Delia here?”

“She’s waiting in Roanoke.”

“Miss Hughes?” Dr. Chen said. “Hi. I’m sorry to wake you but—”

“Where’s Jimmy?” Thea murmured, sitting up.

I rushed over, Rita following, and took her hand. “I’m right here, baby.”

Thea’s empty gaze darted between Rita and Dr. Chen. Then the light turned on in her eyes.

“Rita, what are you doing here?”

“Hi, honey.” Rita hugged her over the bed.