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When my tears finally slowed to a mere trickle, I reached into the backpack and brought out the unwrapped gift. Claire’s parents stepped away, giving me time alone with their unconscious daughter. I held the gift in my hands, gazing upon its earth-tone cover, a tear falling upon the pressed flowers held to the cover by what was supposed to be natural hardened sap. I thought of the two hundred natural-pulp pages of quotes of love, written by my own loving hand during the long, long night. ‘I wanted to give this to you, Claire,’ I whispered, my tired voice breaking with emotion. ‘I wanted you to have this. I was up all night making this for you, because I realized that you have things, not really possessions made from the heart.’ As more tears fell, I opened to a random page and read the quote there: ”The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost.’ So says G. K. Chesterton.’ I paused, closing the book and placing it beside my girlfriend. I took Claire’s hand in. He jotted a note to call his lawyer and find out what more he could do to protect himself.He checked his watch. It was almost time for him to go pick up the kids from the hospital. He wondered how often they would visit him, if he were the one who was ill. It wasn’t a very pleasant thought.He mumbled, “I could die, and no one would miss me.”He took the time before leaving to set up Eric’s computer. He put the printer on a small table between the two desks. He stood back and looked over the office feeling pleased with it. The walls were bare, but it looked like a real business. He still found it hard to believe that he was now a businessman.He drove over to the hospital and went to the cafeteria. After a quick glance around the large room, he bought a cup of their foul coffee and settled down to wait for the kids. He realized that he should have brought something to read. He’d fix that before coming the next time.The cafeteria was sparsely populated with hospital staff and visitors..
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