"Now if you want to buy CebuPacific souvenir items, please just approach any of our flight crew," the voice merrily chirps. RJ sniffles as he opened his eyes. Red hues of sunset stream through his window. He looks at his watch and sees that the hands are still stuck. Ten to twelve. Must get this fixed when this is all over.
He turns to see Maine's head nestled on his left shoulder. When will all these horrible dreams end?
She is fast asleep this time, her breathing calm and even. He tilts his head and sees a slim gold wedding band on her ring finger. A sudden rush of happiness floods his system and he finds himself smiling. So she said yes after all.
It is moments before he notices that her hair is thinner now and dry as hay. Her arms are frail, her wrists dotted with small red marks. Her face is pale, as if the lovely caramel color he has always loved has washed away.
Once again, he looks for the telltale silver bracelet. A crescent moon, the number 16, four hearts, and a snowflake.
His heart stops as his gaze falls on the newest charm.
It is a small ribbon coated in light pink enamel, like those he sees in clinics, hospitals, and marathon events.
He feels her stirring. "Hon? You're worried again," she whispers. Her voice is weak and tired.
He continues to stare at the fragile ribbon charm, feeling his rage and helplessness rise.
"Thanks for being with me, hon," she continues. "I know you're so busy at work and I..."
"Don't say that, Maine." Even without all the facts, the dream now is painfully and brutally clear. "You're going to get better," he insists forcefully.
She gives him a weak smile. "You know, maybe we should start accepting things as they are. Although," she adds wistfully. "I'd give everything for a little more time."
He gulps and feels a hot tear slide down his cheek. He is grateful that she does not see it.
"I should have given it to you," he replies, his voice laced with regret and pain.
"You gave what you could," she whispers as she lovingly traces a finger on his cheek. "On the bright side, we do have a few months."
"Don't say that. You're going to get better. We going to get the best doctors, the best hospitals..." he tells her as he desperately tries to appear calm and in control.
She lets out a long, tired exhale. "Maybe. You know I'll always keep fighting this for us. But let's just use the time we have left, hon. What do you want to do?"
He looks at her and knows in his heart that there is only one thing he wants most in this world. There is only one thing he wants in all eleven worlds, in all eleven universes, if they even existed.
"I'd do it all over again with you."
The plane shudders as it hits yet another invisible bump. The lights begin to flicker again. No. Not this time. He wraps his arms around her, as if shielding her from the inevitable. He holds on to her in the hope that when this nightmare was over, she'd still be in his arms, safe and sound.
"Then do one thing for me, hon," he hears her whisper.
"Anything."
Around him, panicked passengers start to whimper and scream. He strains to hear her soft voice, in what might be the last words he would ever hear from her.
"Find me again."
