Fearless (Ruin #2.5)(4)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

But instead of calming down, my heart slammed against my chest. Funny, how I’d come so close to never having that feeling ever again. Yet there it was, slamming in perfect cadence. Announcing to the rest of my body that I was nervous, that I was excited. It’s funny, we all have hearts, but do we ever truly listen to them?

Its’ true, death had made me all kinds of philosophical, swear it made Gabe want to strangle me most the time.

But the question remained. How often do we hear our hearts and stop to appreciate the fact that it’s been beating solid, strong, for our entire lives? God willing, your heart never stops until you finally die. It beats harder when you’re sick, it beats softer when you sleep, it beats harder again when you’re excited, and sometimes it physically hurts when you’re in pain.

Your heart isn’t just a muscle.

Though I’m sure people would disagree with me.

Your heart is everything. Why else would God ask for it first? I mean, why not ask for your mind? Your soul? Instead, God asks for our hearts. Our significant others ask for our hearts. Family…they ask for our hearts. Friends ask for our hearts.

It’s not just a muscle.

I truly believed that the heart stored the essence of everything a person possessed. The human body didn’t start with the brain or the legs…no…when we were conceived…the first thing doctors searched for?

The heartbeat.

When you get married…you don’t just ask for your wife’s hand. The first thing you search for? Her heart.

When you’re sick. The doctor doesn’t ask about your heart—he listens to it.

Seems to me like we’ve had it wrong all these years.

If you have a heart—I guarantee—there’s someone out there who wants it. Who’s searching for it. Who dreams about it.

“Wes?” Gabe knocked me in the shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking about…things,” I lied.

“Well,” he said, sighing. “Pretty sure all thinking will cease the minute that girl walks through that door.”

“Oh yeah?” I smirked. “Why?”

Gabe gave me a knowing grin.

Kiersten walked through the door, her eyes already pouring tears down her cheeks.

And then I looked at the bouquet she was holding.

Red roses. In the shape of a heart.

She was holding my heart.

Chapter Five

He’d given me his heart a long time ago—and now I was giving it back, not because I didn’t want it. But because I wanted to share it. With him. Forever.—Kiersten

Kiersten

When Lisa drove me up to the hospital, my first thought was something had happened to Wes. Funny, how you think you can be totally over something. And then one tiny little thing happens and immediately you’re back to that place. I wondered if PTSD was like that.

You live your life every day, going through the motions, and then BOOM! Something suddenly happens to throw you off kilter and the only thing you want to do is go sit in a corner and rock back and forth.

When she parked and didn’t start crying or saying that we were there because the man I loved was dying—again. I lost it.

Too close to home.

I wanted to leave.

Actually, I wanted to smack Wes and then I wanted to leave. How dare he scare me like that!

“Hey!” Lisa grabbed my hand. “You need to do this.”

“I don’t want to.” I knew I sounded like a whiny child, and Wes had probably gone to a lot of trouble to use the little chapel at the hospital. But I didn’t…I couldn’t. My throat felt thick as I tried to swallow.

I hadn’t had a panic attack in a really long time.

But being back in that hospital, even in the parking garage, was doing some serious damage to my nervous system.

I didn’t want to stay and fight. I wanted to run away. I wanted to run in the opposite direction of the memories of Wes lying in that hospital bed. Of the look on his face when he said goodbye. My breath hitched in my chest as my stomach clenched with fear.

Of the tears in his eyes when he wasn’t sure if it was going to be for a few hours—or forever.

I sniffled.

Lisa handed me a tissue and started slowly rubbing my back. “Talk to me, Kiersten.”

“It feels like yesterday,” I whispered. “I’m terrified that when I walk in that door, he’s going to be back in that hospital bed, or worse, something’s going to happen. I just—I know it’s not logical but I don’t feel very logical right now.”

“It’s your wedding day.” Lisa shrugged. “Who says you have to be logical?”

I smiled through my tears.

“If it makes you feel better.” She continued rubbing my back, totally something my mom would have done. I loved that girl, I would seriously die for Lisa, and I think she knew that. “I haven’t gone back either.”

“To the hospital?”

“No.” She stopped rubbing for a minute. “Home. I haven’t faced my demons at all. It doesn’t make it easier you know.”

“Are you sure?” My lips trembled as a few tears ran over them.

“Positive.” Lisa handed me another tissue. “Just because you avoid something, doesn’t make it disappear. I think we’d like to imagine life works that way. But I’m sure if I went back home…everything would be just how I left it and I’d be bombarded with the same memories, the same regrets, the giant never really dies Kiersten, not until you throw the damn rock.”

“Nice metaphor. Hanging out with Wes too much I see.”

Lisa snorted. “Swear his philosophies just rub off on everyone in his path.”

I twisted the tissue between my hands. “Your giants…what are they?”

A troubled expression clouded her eyes, and Lisa sighed. “They’re ugly.”

“Like the ones you see in movies?”

“Yeah, Kiersten, like the ones with giant warts and giant feet and…” She shuddered. “There’s a very good reason I came up to Seattle.” Her smile was forced. “Look at it this way. At least you have someone willing to fight alongside you. And he’s waiting inside.”

“What about you? Where’s your partner?”

Lisa was silent for a minute, then she reached for the handle to open the car door. “He no longer exists.”

She didn’t offer any more information, but the momentary distraction of her story was enough to get me out of the car and walking towards the elevator.