Should I try again to give her the letter in person?
“Sara’s been in an accident.”
Grissom’s head snapped to attention, forgetting the letter he held in his hands. Catherine’s expression was as pained as her voice. A sudden unshakable chill gripped his body. Struggling to concentrate on Catherine’s ramblings, he watched the room begin to spin around him, a sinking feeling paralyzing his thoughts.
“Gil!” Catherine said jarring him into an unwanted reality. “Did you hear me? We need to get to the hospital!”
Grissom rose from the bench, leaning into the lockers to steady his legs. Feeling Catherine’s hand on his elbow, he allowed her to lead him toward the parking garage, the letter wrinkling within his clenched fist.
He stared out the window of Catherine’s car, his watery eyes blurring the passing Vegas lights. Half-listening to Catherine’s details of the car accident, the white-knuckle grip on the handle of the door tightened upon hearing “drunk driver,” “head trauma” and “critical condition.”
“Please don’t die, please don’t die, please don’t die.” Grissom said to himself, choking on the mantra as fear overwhelmed his body.
“Stop the car.” He said in a whisper.
“What?”
“Stop the car please.”
Opening the car door, Grissom vomited onto the pavement below. Taking shallow breaths, he regained a slight semblance of control and motioned for Catherine to continue driving.
Out of the car and running through the doors of the hospital before it was parked, he ignored the nurses at the front desk and raced from room to room. The monotonous tone of a heart rate monitor echoed from the end of the hallway. Time stood still. Heavy with dread, his legs were only willed forward by hope. Stumbling in the direction of the ominous sound, he brushed past a somber-faced doctor before reaching the room. Though partially obscured from view, the brunette curls of the lifeless body were unmistakable. Grissom sank to his knees.
Startled by the touch of a hand to his back, he glanced upward, his glare softening at the sight of Catherine’s tear-streaked face.
“She’s gone,” Grissom said, his shoulders hunched in defeat.
“Sara knew how much you loved her.”
“Did she?” He crumpled the sodden piece of stationary into a ball. “I’m not so sure.”
“So tell her.” Catherine motioned toward the hospital bed. “It will help give you closure.”
Nodding, he rose to his feet, stepping to Sara’s side. Surprised by the warmth in her hand, he interlaced their fingers, leaning in to whisper a final I love you.
“I love you too,” Sara said, squeezing his hand gently.
Grissom opened his eyes, blinking as the vision of the hospital melded with that of his bedroom. Shaking his head, the last of the nightmarish cobwebs fell away.
“I was dreaming,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. Looking around the room, he relaxed from the peaceful familiarity of his surroundings, the chair in the corner, the art on the walls and a living, breathing Sara in his bed.
Pulling her tight to his chest, he moved his hands down the length of her body, ensuring she was alive. He strengthened his hold, wanting nothing more than to protect her from both the real and the imagined.
“Are you okay?” Sara said, sensing distress in the urgency of his touch.
“Yes.”
Grateful for what at least seemed to be a second chance he reached into the drawer of the bedside table, retrieving the letter. The stationery was beginning to show signs of wear from the countless times it had been unfolded, read and refolded.
Handing it to Sara, he said, “This is what I wanted to give you earlier.”
Smoothing the letter on his bare chest, Sara began to read, her tears intensifying as she progressed down the page. Raising her head when she finished, the tears continued, draining her of the ability to speak.
“I love you Sara,” he said.
She swallowed a sob. “Why did you wait so long to give this to me?”
Grissom stroked her hair, searching his mind for an explanation. “The palest of ink is better than the best memory.”
Sara nodded understanding the permanence of what she held and overwhelmed by the profound clarity of his written words.
“Giving you this means I can never deny my feelings for you, even in the worst of times.” He smiled touching the edge of the letter. “It’s evidence.”
Returning his smile, Sara met his eyes. “Thank you for having the courage to give this to me.”
“You inspire me to be courageous.” He pressed her head to his chest, hoping Sara would realize she was the source of calm in his heart.
Lying awake in each other’s arms, the silence was never more comfortable.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Alternate Ending: "Or should I slide it into her locker?"
Grissom’s head snapped to attention, forgetting the letter he held in his hands. Catherine’s expression was as pained as her voice. A sudden unshakable chill gripped his body. Struggling to concentrate on Catherine’s ramblings, he watched the room begin to spin around him, a sinking feeling paralyzing his thoughts.
“Gil!” Catherine said jarring him into an unwanted reality. “Did you hear me? We need to get to the hospital!”
Grissom rose from the bench, leaning into the lockers to steady his legs. Feeling Catherine’s hand on his elbow, he allowed her to lead him toward the parking garage, the letter wrinkling within his clenched fist.
He stared out the window of Catherine’s car, his watery eyes blurring the passing Vegas lights. Half-listening to Catherine’s details of the car accident, the white-knuckle grip on the handle of the door tightened upon hearing “drunk driver,” “head trauma” and “critical condition.”
“Please don’t die, please don’t die, please don’t die.” Grissom said to himself, choking on the mantra as fear overwhelmed his body.
“Stop the car.” He said in a whisper.
“What?”
“Stop the car please.”
Opening the car door, Grissom vomited onto the pavement below. Taking shallow breaths, he regained a slight semblance of control and motioned for Catherine to continue driving.
Out of the car and running through the doors of the hospital before it was parked, he ignored the nurses at the front desk and raced from room to room. The monotonous tone of a heart rate monitor echoed from the end of the hallway. Time stood still. Heavy with dread, his legs were only willed forward by hope. Stumbling in the direction of the ominous sound, he brushed past a somber-faced doctor before reaching the room. Though partially obscured from view, the brunette curls of the lifeless body were unmistakable. Grissom sank to his knees.
Startled by the touch of a hand to his back, he glanced upward, his glare softening at the sight of Catherine’s tear-streaked face.
“She’s gone,” Grissom said, his shoulders hunched in defeat.
“Sara knew how much you loved her.”
“Did she?” He crumpled the sodden piece of stationary into a ball. “I’m not so sure.”
“So tell her.” Catherine motioned toward the hospital bed. “It will help give you closure.”
Nodding, he rose to his feet, stepping to Sara’s side. Surprised by the warmth in her hand, he interlaced their fingers, leaning in to whisper a final I love you.
“I love you too,” Sara said, squeezing his hand gently.
Grissom opened his eyes, blinking as the vision of the hospital melded with that of his bedroom. Shaking his head, the last of the nightmarish cobwebs fell away.
“I was dreaming,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. Looking around the room, he relaxed from the peaceful familiarity of his surroundings, the chair in the corner, the art on the walls and a living, breathing Sara in his bed.
Pulling her tight to his chest, he moved his hands down the length of her body, ensuring she was alive. He strengthened his hold, wanting nothing more than to protect her from both the real and the imagined.
“Are you okay?” Sara said, sensing distress in the urgency of his touch.
“Yes.”
Grateful for what at least seemed to be a second chance he reached into the drawer of the bedside table, retrieving the letter. The stationery was beginning to show signs of wear from the countless times it had been unfolded, read and refolded.
Handing it to Sara, he said, “This is what I wanted to give you earlier.”
Smoothing the letter on his bare chest, Sara began to read, her tears intensifying as she progressed down the page. Raising her head when she finished, the tears continued, draining her of the ability to speak.
“I love you Sara,” he said.
She swallowed a sob. “Why did you wait so long to give this to me?”
Grissom stroked her hair, searching his mind for an explanation. “The palest of ink is better than the best memory.”
Sara nodded understanding the permanence of what she held and overwhelmed by the profound clarity of his written words.
“Giving you this means I can never deny my feelings for you, even in the worst of times.” He smiled touching the edge of the letter. “It’s evidence.”
Returning his smile, Sara met his eyes. “Thank you for having the courage to give this to me.”
“You inspire me to be courageous.” He pressed her head to his chest, hoping Sara would realize she was the source of calm in his heart.
Lying awake in each other’s arms, the silence was never more comfortable.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Alternate Ending: "Or should I slide it into her locker?"