"What? No." She shook her head. "You're going in for surgery. I can't leave you to go get some certificate."
"Mommy, please," he whispered. "I want to come out of surgery and see you with your marriage certificate. It's my last wish."
Heather stared at him. Her heart lurched. The phrase last wish made her knees weak.
"Alex, no." Sighed Heather.
"Please, mommy."
She wanted to keep saying no, to tell him this was ridiculous, but how could she? After everything the doctor had just said?
"Alright," she said quietly.
Knock. Knock.
Heather turned her attention to the door, a nurse walked in, pushing a small wheelchair.
Heather felt the air leave her lungs. She didn't need anyone to tell her—it was time.
Her hands began to tremble. She didn't know what to believe.
Her son, her baby, might not come back from the room he was about to be wheeled into.
This could be the last time she'd hold him. Or hear his voice. Smell the sweet warmth of his hair.
