Every night at 7:53 PM, my husband dies.
We were waiting for the 7:53 tube home when it happened for the first time.
We had a fight. At dinner, he was looking at the waitress. I probably shouldn't have gotten angry about it, but it was our anniversary dinner. A few rude things just kept coming out of my mouth.
"Hey, I'm sorry, all right?" As we huddled on the cold platform, he said, "I don't know what else you want me to say." It wasn't like I was looking at her to check her out. "It just took place."
"Well it never happens with me, does it?"
"All the time, it did!" When you were little!"
When I was little. I growled lowly, like a wild animal, and stared at him with sharp teeth.
He moved back a few steps.
He stepped on a crushed Burger King bag and hurt his foot.
He fell—
Then he fell to the tracks below.
The sound of the train. Bang, bang, bang. The bright lights. The horn going off.
When the metal shot by, I knew it was over.
I had the worst night of my life that night. I screamed and cried, and I thought I was the worst person in the world. I was to blame. I chose a pointless fight. He was now dead.
The cops wrote down what I said. After that, I laid down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling while listening to the cars go by. The soft sound of our wind chimes. When the wind blows, the dry twigs break.
I didn't think I could sleep. Ever. But I must have passed out sometime between 3 and 4 a.m. I fell asleep and the next thing I knew, it was morning and sunny.
While Danny slept next to me.
What the heck?
He rolled over to look at me and smiled.
"Happy anniversary, babe."
I thought it was all a dream. In some way. It was the only way I could explain what took place. A terrible nightmare that I thought I would never wake up from, but I did.
"So our reservation at CheeseCake is at 6--"
I told them to "cancel it."
"Uh, what?"
"Begin over. We're going to stay home. "I'll make you dinner."
He frowned at me. "Okay, that's it. Sure. It saves us money, so why not?"
I cooked chicken, roasted veggies, and lit candles for hours that night in the kitchen. We had dinner at 7:20.
Dan tried some of the chicken. "Dan tells me I have an hour to finish it or I'll be fired." I say—"
His eyes got really big.
"Danny?"
He put his hand around his neck.
I felt like I could choke him.
I rushed over to him. I tried the Heimlich by putting my hands in his stomach and wrapping my arms around him. There's nothing. Hit him in the back and shook him up.
There's nothing.
I lost him and he fell to the floor, his skin white and his eyes wide. The time was shown on the wall behind him.
7:53 PM.
I woke up the next morning to find him next to me.
"Happy anniversary, babe."
My phone was on the table, for me to get. I looked at the date. Tuesday, February 16, 2022. I hit the phone again.
The very same day. Once more. How?
"Excited for tonight?"
No. I'm not, I promise.
"I heard CheeseCake is--"
"We're not going to Cheesecake," I yelled.
"Okay, that's it. Do you want a pizza? Or have dinner at home?"
"Maybe we should skip dinner entirely."
"What?"
"This fasting thing has been on my mind for a while. It's kind of like zen yoga. To talk to the universe and all that."
"Well, we can do that tomorrow--"
"No!" I yelled while sitting up in bed. "This evening. Tonight is the only time that will work."
He gave a shrug. "Okay. How are you feeling today?"
This person is having a nervous breakdown. An answer to stress. Whatever they were, they were nightmares or dreams. It was not possible that I was living in a twisted version of Groundhog Day. It wasn't true. Many years ago, my aunt Cathy had vivid dreams of angels, devils, and death. It must be something I got from her.
"I'm fine," I said.
I told myself, "Make an appointment with the psychiatrist."
I 'accidentally' locked Danny in the bathroom at 7:40.
"Hey! Hey, Bella! Do you hear me?" His soft voice could be heard downstairs. "I locked myself in the bathroom by accident!"
The bathroom's door has been broken for a long time. It's something I never thought would be useful.
Say "Bella!"
I put Danny's fancy pan on the stove. Above the heat, oil popped and boiled. As I put the ground beef pieces down and watched them shrink and get darker, I hummed to myself. That was it, I told myself. Sorry, Danny. This is good for you.
I looked at the time. 7:45.
Say "Bella!"
Just a little longer...
With the spatula, I moved the patties under it. I slowly turned them over one by one. They sizzled in a delicious way. I opened the fridge door by turning it over—
A loud noise.
I stood up straight.
Hi, Danny. I yelled.
There's nothing.
Please forgive me, please forgive me—
I ran up the stairs quickly. After some time, I finally got the handle open. When I did, I saw a horrible scene.
The floor was wet from where I just took a shower. It's slippery. Danny was lying on the cream tiles. He had his back against the tub wall and a deep red colour coming out of the back of his head.
I screamed.
"Happy wedding anniversary, honey!"
"Hey Danny, I think we need to talk." That night, I put my phone back on the nightstand. The words FEBRUARY 16, 2022 lit up on the screen. "Well, something has been going on with me."
He made a face. "I don't get it."
"Today is February 16 every day." And every single day at 7:53 PM... I see you die." I was waiting for a response. But he did nothing but stare at me, his dark eyes wide with worry.
"At first, I thought they were all bad dreams. Really clear ones. Then I thought I was seeing things, just like Aunt Cathy... How could this be true? Is it possible that I keep living the same day? But it all seems so real. For three days now, I've been losing you every night.
Danny put out his hands and grabbed mine. He gave them a soft squeeze.
I told them, "I can't take it anymore," and my voice began to crack. "Danny, I can't keep seeing you die. No matter if it's real or not. I don't know what to do, so I need to get help or something.
Danny didn't answer. He just looked at me with his dark eyes and held my hands warmly.
Hi, Danny.
"February 16," he said, holding my gaze the whole time. "Do you remember what day it is?"
"Today is our anniversary."
"What kind of anniversary?"
I made a face. "I don't get it."
He put his hands around mine and said, "You can't stay here forever on this day." Say "I love you."
He then leaned in close and kissed me on the lips. I closed my eyes and let the kiss take over.
When I took them out—
I was lying in a bed that was empty.
There were thick curtains over the glass, making the room dark. The morning sunshine could only be seen in the tiniest ways. As I jumped out of bed, my heart was beating fast.
"What about Danny?" Hi Danny!"
Real life slowly came back to me as I sped around the house and saw Danny's half-empty closet, the kitchen without his trusty pan and sauces and the garage without his trusty old Camry.
February 16th.
It wasn't our wedding date.
It had been a year since he died.
It's been three years. I had been living in darkness and remembering his death over and over for three years. Not an awful accident or a terrible death I couldn't stop.
Cancer has been a long, hard fight.
I went up to the window and opened the blinds. The window was opened. The winter air blew over me, getting through my grey hair and thin pyjamas.
I said in a whisper, "I love you too."
