“You should’ve let me look in the damn box.”
Micky kept his composure well. For a man riddled with plasma rounds and coughing up blood, his outlook was still sunny side up.
“You don’t quit, do you? That’s what I always loved about you…”
June was no better off than her quondam husband and for once she didn’t feel the combative need to bring his mood down.
“You love me? I could’ve sworn you had a REMmer pull that word out of your vocabulary after we got married.”
He was trying to come off as snarky as possible with his lungs full of blood, but all June could see was the light leaving his eyes.
“Of course, I love you M -i -i ick…”
She began to aspirate fluids. There were way too many holes in her chest. She could feel the end was coming and her strength was near non-existent. She put every ounce of energy into putting her hand in his, as she rested her head on his shoulder.
“That’s goo – – ood, because I never got around to taking those divor – – ce papers i- in.”
He tightened his grip on her hand.
“I always expected that k- ind of crap fr- -o om you, Mick. For once I’m not mad though. I- I- never wanted – – die alone.”
“You wo- wo- won’t babydoll.”