The Story of Us

Moments. Every life is made of thousands of them, each one strung together with the next. Some are yellow and happy, some are blue and sad, and some... Some wipe out color altogether. "I love you," is what I should have told Maverick. "I'm sorry." "I'm still fighting." Instead I just watched him leave. Now my husband, my everything is battling for each breath, and all I can do is stare at the machines as the clock ticks off precious minutes. The doctors said the first twenty-four hours are critical-but every moment is critical. You never know which will be your last. This is our story, and I'm not ready for it to end.