The oxygen mask was a hiss in the silence.
Arthur had pulled it off, his face pale and contorted with effort. Nurse Sarah was there in an instant, her face a mask of determination as she pressed the plastic back to his face.
"Don’t give up now, Arthur!" she pleaded.
He settled, the mask restoring the steady flow of air to his lungs. But his eyes were wide, fixed on a memory she couldn't see.
""She fought to breathe," he said, the words muffled. "Just like this. I watched her ribcage heave, watched her struggle for every single ounce of air. And now it’s my turn to fight for a breath I don't even want.""
Sarah felt the weight of his words. She understood that every breath for Arthur was a painful reminder of the breath his wife lost.
"Every breath is a gift she'd want you to have, Arthur," Sarah whispered. "Don't let her fight be for nothing."