Last Goodbye in Pieces

Patrick was sitting by Tracy’s bedside in the hospital when a soft knock echoed at the door.

He opened it to find a delivery man, who whispered, “Hey, your flower order is here. Mind leaving a good review?”

Staring at the flowers in the delivery man’s hands, Patrick’s face froze in shock.

That’s when it hit me—I had ordered those flowers by phone, worried that Patrick might see me at the hospital. They were meant to be a sign of my feelings. I had even asked the florist to include a note: “Wishing Mrs. Green a speedy recovery.”

However, as Patrick read the note, his anger erupted. He tossed the card straight into the trash.

“Yasmine, you think a couple of flowers will settle your debt to my mom? No way! Forget it! Unless you come and apologize to my mom face-to-face, I’ll never forgive you!”

In a fit of rage, he threw the flowers into the trash can next to him.

I instinctively reached out to stop him, but my transparent, ghostly hand passed right through the flowers, touching nothing.

A wry smile crossed my face. Oh, how I wished... I wished I could have been there when Tracy woke up. I wished I could have told her I was sorry.

However, I was long gone…

I would never get to apologize to her face-to-face again.

Tracy was the kindest soul I knew, aside from my adoptive mother. She always made me feel special, preparing feasts for the holidays and sending Patrick to fetch me home for dinner.

She knew I was an orphan and looked after me in every way possible.

If Patrick ever got on my nerves, she’d take him to task—just to make me smile.

Such a wonderful person, now lying still in a hospital bed—all because of me. I was such a terrible person...

I was drowning in guilt when the phone rang, cutting through my thoughts.

I watched Patrick answer it. His face transformed when he heard Nancy’s tearful voice come through.

“Patrick, I’m a mess. Will you come to me? I miss you so much.”

Patrick didn’t hesitate. He grabbed his jacket and bolted.

Walking briskly, he seemed to tread lightly, as if trying not to let his emotions spill over.

“Where are you? I’m on my way!” he whispered into the phone.

He sped off, taking shortcuts.

He pulled up outside a bar—a place he used to avoid because he was protective of me when I hung out with friends. He would always show up to pick me up right on time, earning playful jabs from my friends about how thoughtful he was.

Yet, there he was, rushing out for another girl.

Patrick had always been the hero of his own story, but even he might not have realized how much Nancy meant to him. He strode through the hallway, his heart set on finding Nancy amidst the chaos of the private rooms.

He found her just as she lost a game, her cheeks flushed, surrounded by a crowd of guys urging her to drink more. Without hesitation, Patrick wrapped his coat around her shoulders, shielding her from their leering eyes.

“Let’s get you home,” he said, his brow furrowed with concern.

Nancy reached up, her hands finding the warmth of his neck. She leaned into him, her words slurred but sincere.

“You came for me. I was afraid you didn’t care, that I didn’t matter to you. Patrick, be honest... does this mean you might actually like me?” she whispered.

Patrick didn’t give her the answer she wanted.

Instead, he was determined to get her out of there. However, they were stopped by the jeers of the onlookers.

“Hey, Patrick, Nancy’s got a debt to pay. She lost, and her drink’s still full!

“We don’t let people back out of deals here. How about this… you drink the wine for her, and we’ll let you both go! Haha!” they taunted, laughter filling the room.

Patrick’s patience snapped, but he kept his cool. He grabbed the six shots lined up on the table and knocked them back without a second thought.

“Are we good now?” he asked, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade of ice.

He then lifted Nancy into his arms and carried her out.