Melanie's Password

Jack took Mel's warm soft hand and smothered it with his own. He looked at her and tears filled his eyes, guilt filled his mind and despair threatened to overwhelm him. The connection wasn't there any more.

He had come straight from work and there was so much that he wanted to say, so much to apologise for. He didn't know where to start, so the best he could come up with was to tell her his news, how his day had gone, how frustrating and depressing his job had become. Mel listened quietly and gave nothing back in return. Her mind was elsewhere, occupied with more serious matters.

He told her about his computer packing up and the IT guys spending most of the afternoon fixing it. His password had been rejected and access to his files and his records and his work experiences denied to him. How upsetting the whole thing had been, how strangely shut out from the world you could feel simply because a password didn't work any more. He smothered her soft warm hand with both of his own and tried desperately to feel any forgiveness. The soft warm hand gave nothing.

Jack told Mel how much he loved her, always had done and always would. How she was always right and he was nearly always wrong. How gorgeous she was, how inspirational and civilizing. He asked her if she remembered the first time they met, how they couldn't take their eyes off each other, how everything else seemed to dissolve around them. Mel didn't reply.

He had apologies to make, a list that he'd made at work while IT were busy. That time in Spain when he sulked for two days; the fool he'd made of himself in front of her parents last Christmas; his continued smoking when he'd promised to give up; and above all his stubbornness, his irrational behaviour and his refusal to ever apologise for anything. He was genuinely sorry for who he was, what he'd been and what he'd done. Mel still didn't respond and his heart sank.

He told her how he relied on her for sensible solutions to the problems he'd probably caused in the first place, for sorting him out when he needed to be sorted and for being a home maker when all he'd ever wanted was a home. A real home with a loving wife and slippers and children and a dog and everything.

Holding Mel's hand had always been something really special. A connection between them which carried millions of bytes of information. Data collected over the years and stored; unique experiences shared and challenges overcome; free tingling radicals of uniqueness travelling at lightening speed from one to the other. This was an exclusive, untappable fibre optic, out of reach of even GCHQ. It could be enjoyed anywhere and everywhere. It could be smiled at knowingly and envied. It was an affirmation of their relationship and it was password protected. Passwords known only to the two of them. Last Friday, the night of the accident, Mel's password had been lost. He stroked her hand gently trying to find a new one and sobbed quietly. He'd run out of things to say.

The door suddenly opened and the nurse arrived with a broad smile and a trolley full of scary things. Jack smiled at her and she smiled at him and she told him not to stop chatting to Mel on her account. She may be in a coma she said, but she can probably hear everything you say to her.

While the nurse fiddled with the cannula, Jack told Mel about the car and how the Insurance company had decided to write it off. He told her how stupid he'd been and that the police would probably prosecute for dangerous driving. He told her that she'd been right about his driving and that his stubbornness and stupidity had caused the accident. He told her, with as much conviction as he could muster, that he'd never argue with her again as he continued to gently massage her soft warm hand. The nurse smiled and wearily shook her head as she left the room.

Jack continued to chat, his conscience and his overpowering sense of guilt driving him on. He was looking for a sign from Mel, some sort of response that would give hope of recovery, some portal into her unconsciousness, some password to reconnection. Mel did hear Jack's words and she smiled inwardly, but for the moment she was too busy for passwords.