FOR ALL TIME

June 25, 2009

Outside of her husband's hospital room, Jasmine sat cold in a cushioned chair. Her hands were glued to the side of her face as her elbows pressed deeply into her knees. Fumbling tears streaked her cheeks as she worried of her husband's health. He had just suffered a heart attack in his home and by time Jasmine arrived, he was already unconscious...

Earlier

Jasmine ran into the bedroom, brushing past her husband's security and screamed to the doctor. "What the hell happened?!"

Her husband Michael lied stiff on the bed and she hovered over him, preparing a needle she pulled from her bag. "Lay him on the floor!"

The doctor hesitated to follow her order.

"Get him on the floor and unbutton his shirt!"

"Wait, what are you doing?" he questioned, doing as she asked.

Ignoring him, she injected the needle into Michael's chest.

"What the hell are you doing, Jasmine!?"

Others in the room started questioning her as well, causing her to grow offended. She didn't explain herself, feeling she didn't need to. She kept herself tunneled on caring for the helpless man on the floor.

Soon, EMT rushed onto the scene and Jasmine explained to them that she performed an intracardiac injection into the left ventricular chamber of Michael's heart. And the way she spoke about it, it was clear this wasn't the first time she had to do this for him.

After a few more questions and with Michael on a stretcher, they began moving him downstairs, and on their way, Jasmine went off the second someone called her name.

"Ya'll can go! All of you! Get the fuck out!" A shade of red overtook her skin and her voice cracked as she screamed and cried. At this point, she didn't feel she could trust anyone except Faheem who was Michael's head of security.

Jasmine's sister Jessica gathered Jasmine and Michael's three kids and said she was going to take them. Jasmine put a smile on her face when saying goodbye to them, wiping their tears, promising she would call them as soon as she had an update on Daddy.

Jasmine and Michael were separated at the time but that didn't change the fact the he was her husband. She meant it when she said to him "for better or for worse, in sickness and in health."

Faheem delegated one of his guys to not let anyone in except the police, and then he hopped in the back of the ambulance with Michael and Jasmine.

Hospital

The ER doctor came out of the room and tapped Jasmine on her shoulder.

Her red, wet eyes quickly connected with his as she sat up.

He kneeled down to her to tell her that Michael was in a coma. "But he's breathing on his own. The adrenaline you gave him did help. It got his heart pumping and oxygen to his brain and his brain activity is looking good. So we're not anticipating any memory loss. Most likely he'll just wake up a little confused as to what happened. We have to speak to his personal physician to figure out what happened before you got there."

She couldn't smile but she held hope in her heart that Michael would ultimately be okay. "Thank you," she said to the doctor. She then scoffed as she saw Michael's personal physician walking down the hall.

She turned to Faheem and asked if he could return some of her 50 million calls and let them know Michael's status. "Call Ma back first," she said referring to her mother-in-law Katherine. "And then the kids. But if anyone asks, I'm not ready to publicly make any statements."

Faheem gave her a strong nod.

She stood up and asked the doctor if she could see her husband.

"Yes, of course," he answered.

As she inched closer to Michael's incompetent doctor that nearly left him for dead, she felt herself growing hot. He looked to be explaining himself to a man in a suit. And then he caught Jasmine's eyes as she made her way into the room, and with a clenched jaw, she shot daggers his way.

Sighing, she shut herself in Michael's room. Leaning back on the door, looking at Michael lying unconsciously in that hospital bed, she began to grow weak. Her stomach tightened as emotions rose in her body. She cupped her hands over mouth to cease the sobs that wanted to cry out. It hurt her so much to see him like this.

It took a minute or two to gather herself, as thoughts ping-ponged in her brain of what could've happened if she didn't show up in time. What if she missed that call from her frantic 12-year-old daughter? What if she would've ran into just one more red light? What if this and what if that? What if they never separated?

What if she never left him?

Hugging herself, she slowly walked towards him. "Mich..." She couldn't speak. Her trembling fingers curled over his and she gave him a sweet lingering kiss on his cool cheek.

The chair that sat against the wall screeched across the floor as she placed it beside his bed. As she coddled his cold, frail hand, she piped up a smile for him. "Everything's going to be ok, baby. It's going to be okay." She was trying to convince herself that too. "I love you and—I'm so sorry for leaving you." Tears began falling rapidly from her weary eyes. For a moment, she had to hold them shut to rid the burning sensation the air against it caused.

She rested her head on his arm and opened her eyes to a calendar hanging on the wall. She counted the numbers in each box. One, two, three, four. And when she realized that it was a Thursday, it boomeranged a special memory.

"Hey... It's Thursday... We met on a Thursday, remember?" Smiling again, she glanced at him. "Best day of my life." And she told him the story.