[ WP ] Write a truly heartbreaking story that has a character speaking aloud the phrase `` My butt itches . ''

`` My butt itches.'' 
 
 `` I'll scratch it for you,'' I said, reaching underneath Ben's body and giving his bony rump a few good swipes. 
 
 He closed his eyes and sighed with relief. `` Thanks honey. I knew I married the right girl, all those years ago.'' 
 
 I could n't help but smile down at him, or rather, what was left of him, lying in the hospital bed. The IED had blown off his arms and grievously wounded his legs. They both had to be amputated above the knee. Now the rest of his organs were failing. The doctors kept him pumped full of pain medications. He could n't feel the pain any more. He could still itch, but he could n't even wiggle his body to relieve it. 
 
 I thought back to when we first met. We'd worked together in the same company. Different departments though. My first memory of him was this roguishly handsome guy fixing the coffee machine. He was good with machines, so he usually straightened out the coffee machine and copier and printers when they acted up. 
 
 He'd smiled at me and offered me a cup of coffee. `` Just to see if I got it right, you see. Would n't want to end up serving cups of hot water by mistake.'' 
 
 I remember being so busy staring at him, and him staring back at me, that he nearly overflowed my coffee cup. 
 
 We got married exactly one year later. Our honeymoon was just one town over. We wanted to save money, because we wanted to have kids soon. And then Ben decided to change jobs, to start working for a private military contractor. `` The pay's better, honey. I'll be in there three years, maybe five years at most. Build up a nest egg so we can buy a bigger house, for the dozens of kids we're going to have.'' I can still remember that roguish grin, and the way he gathered me up in his arms to kiss me, and then... 
 
 And then last week, I got the call. The call I dreaded. I came to this god-forsaken place to find my husband a broken shell of a man. The shoulders that I'd always leaned on had been reduced to stumps. The legs that could carry my world were gone, forever. 
 
 The doctors said it did n't look good. They said he probably would n't make it. He knew it too, but he never showed it. He still did his best to talk and joke with me, when the drugs let him. He slept a lot. I never left his bedside. I was afraid I might come back to find him gone. 
 
 I woke with a start. I'd dozed off, sitting by his bedside. My cheeks were wet. I noticed Ben was awake, and was staring at me. His eyes were lucid, and filled with regret, regret for the life we'd planned out together but would now never have. 
 
 `` What are you thinking about?'' He asked me. 
 
 `` Oh... nothing much. Just thinking about... us, you know?'' 
 
 Ben smiled, sadly, with just a trace of the rogue hidden behind it. Then he grimaced. `` My butt itches.'' 
 
 `` I'll scratch it for you, honey, whenever you need me to.''
