A week passed, and Dustin held on. He was able to hold broth and vegetable soup down, but nothing else. Angela slept in the living room with him to nurse him. She escorted him to the bathroom and even wiped his ass for him since he was so weak. She talked to him again as he sat on the couch
“Dustin, you need to make a decision if you want to live or die. It’s okay to die. No one will fault you.”
He thought for a moment. “I want to live.”
Without a thought, she jerked forward and hugged him. He hugged her back, and they held it for a while.
He moaned, “Thank you. I needed that.”
Maybe it was Angela’s imagination, but his eyes seemed to gain life. “Maybe you should sit in the sun. We can meditate, if you want to.”
“Sounds good.”
She helped him to sit in the swing in front of the house, and she led him in meditation. “Take a slow breath in through your nose, hold it for four seconds, and let it out slowly. I’ll do it with you.”
They did it. He reached to hold her hand.