Behind me I inhaled the strong perfume of an elderly man's wife. He was 82, with pneumonia, and his wife never left his side. I heard his chart read twice now. Over to the left there was a 33 year old mother recovering from hernia surgery. I could actually smell the gauze and bandages that were changed every so often. In front of me was a 19 year old female who was involved in a car accident. She didn't contribute a smell, though. The only thing I could smell while looking at her was my own guilt.

I wanted to look at her again. I grabbed my abdomen and grimaced with slight pain as I turned in my chair to face her. My stomach was still tender. The seat belt had dug into my side, and some glass scratched my face, but I was fine. It didn't seem fair - I was driving the car, I broke the law, and Isabel was reaping the consequences.

I held her hand. She was intubated, pale and lifeless, but still so incredibly divine. I had talked to her some, she didn't respond of course, but the nurse said she might be able to hear me. I talked to her again.

"Isabel," I whispered huskily. I cleared my throat, but my voice still cracked. "Oh, Isabel. I'm so sorry. Please stay with us - if anything ever happened to you...I don't think I could live with myself."

The speaker in the nurses' station buzzed.

"This is Jesse Ramirez." I strained to hear. "My wife, Isabel Ramirez is here. Could I see her, please?"

"Sure," the nurse buzzed softly back.

I turned and watched the automatic doors being unlocked and opened, and Jesse walk in. I watched him roll up the sleeves of his oxford to wash his hands, like everyone who entered the ICU had to do. Jesse turned away from the sink, and I watched his eyes search for Isabel. I saw the worry in his eyes, and the horror in his face as he walked over. I caused his worry and horror.

It was going to be an awkward situation. I stood up and greeted Jesse when he reached the bed.

"Oh, hey Jesse," I offered.

"How is she?" asked he, completely ignoring my statement.

"Well, uh. Her lung collapsed - but they fixed that. She's still not breathing on her own, and her liver isn't responding well to the trauma," I explained.

"Isabel," Jesse breathed, looking longingly over his wife. Then he faced me, and he wasn't so loving. "What happened?"

"We were at an intersection," I started slowly. "It was late, and I needed to get home -"

"You were driving?" Jesse inquired. "You ran a red light?"

"It had just turned red -" I argued.

"And of course the other car would have had to hit the passenger side," Jesse said bitterly.

"I'm sorry," I told him. "I wish I could change things."

"Oh, glory be to Kyle," Jesse snapped sarcastically as he sat by Isabel's side. "You could have killed her!"

"I know that!" I shot back quietly, yet full of anger. "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think I'm regretting what I did? Don't you think I wish it was me instead? Jesse. I know that."

"Have you called her parents yet?" Jesse asked a bit more calmly.

"No. Uh, no, I guess I didn't think to," I admitted. "I called you first. Well, left a message for you first, and I-"

"Why don't you go call them?" interrupted Jesse as he stroked Isabel's cheek. "I'm sure there's a phone in the waiting room."

"Right. Of course." I could take a hint. Jesse didn't want me around him. He didn't want me around Isabel. I understood - but I didn't want to leave her. I had been with her since this started, and I didn't want to leave her. I walked away from Isabel and Jesse, stopping to see a collage of pictures and "Get Well" cards above another young woman's bed.

My mind trailed off. I thought about how things could have been different. Not just tonight, but the last few months. I wondered what I could have changed. I imagined my life being different. I pictured Isabel as more than a friend.