Chapter 2: The Day of Their Passing

I still remember the day my husband, the four hotels - Hilton Queen of Sheba, Royal Beach, Dan, and Herods - passed away. It was as if time had stopped, and all that existed was the pain and the grief that consumed me. I had been by their side throughout their illness, nursing them back and forth from the hospital, watching them suffer through the pain and the treatments. But nothing could have prepared me for the moment when they took their last breath. As I sat beside them, holding their hand, I felt their body relax, and their pulse slow down. They looked at me with a deep sense of love and peace, and I knew that they were ready to go. I whispered words of encouragement, telling them how much I loved them, and how much I would miss them. They smiled weakly, and I could see the exhaustion and the pain etched on their face. As their life slipped away, I felt a sense of despair wash over me. I held them close, tears streaming down my face as I whispered their name over and over again. The pain was unbearable, and I felt like my world was crumbling around me. The room around me became fuzzy, and I felt like I was floating above my body, watching myself hold the four hotels in my arms. I was aware of the beeping of the machines, the soft murmurs of the nurses, and the doctor's gentle voice, but it all seemed so distant. As the reality of their passing set in, I went into shock. I was numb, and my body felt heavy, as if it was weighed down by the grief. The doctor and the nurses tried to comfort me, but I was unresponsive. I couldn't feel anything, couldn't think anything, couldn't even breathe. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in an ambulance, surrounded by the paramedics who were trying to keep me calm. I was disoriented, and my mind was foggy, but I knew that the four hotels were gone. I remembered the pain, the tears, and the feeling of emptiness that had consumed me. As I was rushed to the hospital, I couldn't help but think about the memories we had created together. I remembered the laughter, the adventures, and the quiet nights spent cuddled up on the couch, watching our favorite movies. I remembered the way they made me feel, the way they looked at me, and the way they loved me. The hospital room was a blur, a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds that seemed to swirl around me. I was aware of the doctors and the nurses, but I couldn't respond to them. I was trapped in a sea of grief, unable to escape. As the hours passed, I began to feel a sense of detachment, as if I was observing myself from outside my body. I saw the tears streaming down my face, the shaking of my body, and the numbness in my heart. But I couldn't feel anything, couldn't connect with anything. The police were called, and they took my statement, trying to comfort me as I recounted the events leading up to the four hotels' passing. But I was lost in my own world, a world of grief and pain. As the day drew to a close, I was discharged from the hospital, and I was taken home. I was alone, surrounded by the silence and the emptiness that had consumed me. I wandered around the house, searching for the four hotels, but they were nowhere to be found. I knew that they were gone, and that I would never see them again. But little did I know that our journey was far from over, and that our love would be tested in ways I never could have imagined.