I sigh as I rub Sarah’s cold, pale, hand. She’s finally fallen asleep, her chest rising and falling rhythmically as the heart rate monitor beeps steadily. The last surgery had been the hardest, and she was in a lot of pain for a long time. I smile a little, relieved that she’s no longer in so much pain and can get some rest.

         Leaning back in the uncomfortable leather chair, I rub my eyes sleepily as I let out a small yawn. I haven’t left the hospital room in a week, not with Sarah here. She’s everything that I have left, and God forbid if she’s going to go, she’ll go with me right by her side.

         Feeling a lump starting to form in my throat, I push the thought out of my mind as I slouch down in the chair, trying to get comfortable. Tilting my head towards the white ceiling, I close my eyes for a moment, letting myself rest for the first time since the surgery. And in that light phase of sleep, I let myself believe that Sarah will get better. That one day she’s going to wake up and the doctors are going to tell her that she’s cured, that her leukemia is gone and she can go home and we can be normal again.

          But until then, this is where we’re at. Her in this room, with its monitors and it’s smell of grape medicine, and me holding her hand while she fights. And that’s all I have for her, all that I can do, but it’ll be okay because she’ll win this eventually and after she wins, after we leave, this won’t mean anything anymore.

         However, the dream lasts only for a moment as I hear Beth opening the door. I mutter a string of curses under my breath as the click of her high heels breathes annoyance into the room. I hear her plops some bags onto the floor next to Sarah’s bed I clench my hands into fists.

         “Can you be any louder?” I grumble, my eyes still closed. “This is the first time she’s gotten sleep in a week.”

         “I’m bringing necessities for our daughter,” she retorts. “By the way, someone ought to tell you that you smell like complete shit. I understand that you don’t want to leave her, but James you’re contaminating the entire goddamn hospital with your stench.”

         I open my eyes to see her standing across the bed, arms crossed and glaring at me with her piercing blue eyes through the darkness. “I’ll go home and shower when I can trust you again.”

         “I already told you to let this go,” Beth whispers. “All I want is what’s best for her.”

         Gripping the armrests of the chair, I leap up and motion her to follow me out of the room.  We head out into the quiet, vacant hallway so that no one can listen to the screaming match that I’m about to have with my wife. And as soon as we’re in a private area I turn to Beth, furious.

         “You are absolute bullshit, you know that?” I yell. “How the hell can I just ‘let it go’ when you nearly killed her the last time you were left alone with her?”

         “I just wanted her to get fresh air for a few minutes, to be outside again,” Beth replies. Her voice is unsteady, which usually means she’s close to crying. “How should I have known that the cold air wasn’t good for her? And with her being locked up in here-”

         “She’s locked in here so she won’t die!” I said as I grip Beth’s arms. “She’s only fifteen, Beth. Fifteen! She has her whole life ahead of her, and I’m not going to let you take that away.”

         “You think that I would purposely try to kill my own daughter?” Beth says as tears begin to roll down her face. “Are you insane?”

         “Did those words ever come out of my mouth?” I asked. Taking a deep breath, I try to ration with her. “Of course I’m not saying that, but my point is that you can’t be trusted with her. Can you see why I would think that?”

         “Go to hell,” she spat. “And I hope that when you get there, you burn to ashes.”

         She begins to walk away, and clenching my hands into fists I couldn’t help but blurt out: “You think I don’t see the way that you look at Sarah sometimes? That look of regret, of shame of having a daughter who’s sick. So you know what? You go ahead, go ahead and tell me to go to hell but guess what - Sarah and I are already there.”

         Beth stops walking as I’ve realized what I’ve said. She turns back around, tears running rapidly down her face as I notice her lip quivering. She walks right towards me and the next second I feel her sweaty hand slap across my face, stinging my left cheek.

         “You’re a sick son of a bitch,” she snarls. “I know that you may hate me, but you and I both know that I am the lifeline of this family. That I am the one who keeps everyone together when I could damn well leave and never come back. So don’t you ever, ever, talk to me like that again.”

         “You’re a coward,” I scoff. “And despicable. I can’t believe I ever loved you.”

         “You? I would have divorced you by now if Sarah was well enough to take the news,” Beth said. “I hate you, James. I hate you and I hate you and I wish that Sarah was never born so I could move on with my life.”

         “Then leave!” I scream. “If you hate us that much then just leave!”

         Beth’s mouth opens to retort and I guard myself, ready to respond to whatever she has to say. However, no words come out. Instead, Beth spins on her heels and walks down the hallway as she turns the corner, heading out of sight. I shake my head as I run my hands through my dirty, hair, craving nothing more than a warm shower.

            But I don’t take a shower. I don’t do anything but turn around and head back into Sarah’s room and back to the silence, the waiting, the hoping. And when I go in she’s still there, as always. Closing the door, I hear the machine next to her humming softly as I settle back down in the chair, making sure to be quiet so that I don’t wake her. I then take her pale hand, patting it three times in reassurance as I wait, wait, and wait some more.