The monitor was a flashing beacon of alarm.
Arthur had ripped off the blanket and the tubes, his face a mask of finality. Sarah rushed in, her grip tight on his shoulders.
"You’re not dying tonight!"
The alarms eventually faded. Arthur lay weak, his tubes restored.
""I just wanted to end where she did," he whispered. "Here. In this bed. In this room.""
Sarah squeezed his hand. "Being close to her isn't about where you die, Arthur. It's about how you lived."