Gemotions

The sterile scent of the hospital room seemed to fade as Eleanor watched her husband, Robert, return from what he called a “quick phone call.” For weeks, she had endured agonizing uncertainty, each rustle of the leaves outside their bedroom window, each ring of the phone, each hushed conversation that he took outside, fueling a fear that threatened to consume her.

Robert walked into the room, his eyes brimming with tears, and the corners of his mouth turned up.

He held up his phone. “They found a donor,” he announced, his voice cracking with emotion. He came over to her and took her hand.

She squeezed his hand, a strange lightness filling her limbs, her breath coming easier. The heavy cloak that had wrapped around her, smothering her for weeks, was gone.