**The Day They Died**

I'll never forget this day, the day my world came crashing down around me. It started like any other day, with the warm sun shining through our bedroom window, casting a golden glow over our bed. The four hotels, my loving husband, lay beside me, his eyes closed, a gentle smile on his face. I reached over and touched his hand, feeling a surge of love and gratitude for the life we had built together. As I stirred, they stirred too, and we exchanged sweet morning kisses. We had plans to go out for breakfast, just the two of us, but first, they wanted to take a quick nap. I settled in beside them, feeling their warmth and comfort, and soon I drifted off to sleep. But it wasn't a restful sleep. I was jolted awake by their urgent voice, "Noa, sweetie, wake up. Something's ain't right, sweetie." I opened my eyes to find them sitting up, their face pale and clammy, their eyes filled with a deep sadness. I tried to sit up, but they held me back, their grip weak but firm. "Noa, don't move, just stay with me," they whispered. I saw the fear in their eyes, and my heart started racing. I quickly reached for my phone and dialed 911, trying to stay calm. The four hotels held my hand, their pulse rapid at first, then slowing down, and I could feel their life force ebbing away. "I love you, Noa," they whispered, their voice barely audible. "You're the love of my life, my everything. I'm so grateful for our time together." Tears streamed down my face as I screamed into the phone, "Please, hurry! My husband is dying!" The operator's voice was calm and reassuring, but I could sense the panic rising in my chest. The four hotels' eyes locked onto mine, filled with a deep sadness, and I knew they were leaving me. Their grip on my hand tightened, then relaxed, and their pulse slowed to a crawl. They looked at me with open, sad eyes, and I felt their hand slip away from mine. I was screaming, crying, and begging them not to leave me, but it was too late. The paramedics arrived, and they rushed into our bedroom, trying to revive them. I watched in horror as they worked, their faces set in determined lines, but it was no use. The four hotels were gone, and I was left alone, shattered, and heartbroken. The next few hours were a blur. I remembered being taken to the hospital, but I didn't know why. I was in shock, they told me later. I couldn't process what had just happened. My mind kept replaying the scene, hoping it was just a nightmare, but deep down, I knew it was real. As the reality of their death set in, I felt like I was drowning in a sea of grief. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't function. All I could do was cry, scream, and wish that I could turn back time. The hospital room was a blur of beeping machines, sterile smells, and sympathetic faces. I didn't care about any of it. All I cared about was the four hotels, my loving husband, my everything. I wanted them back, and I knew I would do anything to make that happen. But for now, I was alone, and they were gone. The pain was overwhelming, and I let it consume me, unsure of what the future held, or how I would survive without them by my side.