I’d always wondered how many broken hearts one person could endure.

Broken hearts meted out by unexpected tragedy.

Broken hearts delivered by the ones who were supposed to love them most.

True, physical broken hearts that struggled to continue to beat, marred by fate and health and genetic abnormalities.

Sometimes, I felt as if I could endure no more.

Kale had . . . crushed me.

I’d allowed myself to love him so freely. Love him so easily. Because I saw so much greatness in him. So much kindness in his giving, bleeding heart.

Maybe his heart had been broken one too many times, and he knew he could take no more.

I guessed I’d been right all along.

Had seen it coming the night he’d strode across the bar and slid into the stool next to me.

He’d looked like discord.

Chaos with an easy, arrogant smile.

A perfect, controlled disorder.

Just as I thought, the man had looked like a broken heart.

I sat next to my son—my life—in the darkened room where he lay in the middle of the elevated bed. Lights dimmed in the space. He was connected to a million tubes and wires, face covered in tape the same way he’d been as a tiny infant, the machine he was connected to inflating his chest as it pumped life into him.

Where his tiny body fought and fought and fought to conquer another broken heart.

And I knew sitting there, I would endure a million more broken hearts for him.

With him.

I jerked when I felt the presence behind me. I swiveled to look over my shoulder.

Dr. Krane stood there with a cautious smile on his face. “You’re still here.”

I almost laughed. “I’m not sure you could drag me out if you tried.”

Four days.

That was how many days I’d been sitting in this spot, my mama and Jenna bringing me my meals. Keeping me company while I fought the gnawing that ate me from the inside out. Renewing my energy so I could in turn give it to Evan.

They hadn’t expected him to make it through that first night.

I’d seen what was written in Dr. Krane’s eyes when he’d come to me after the surgery to give me an update, and then I’d gone straight to the chapel.

I’d dropped to my knees and issued up unending prayers.

I’d given all my belief.

Had fallen on my faith.

My heart had always been hung on hope, and I sure wasn’t about to give up then. Not ever.

“How is our little fighter today?” Dr. Krane asked.

Tears blurred my eyes. “Maybe I’m just being hopeful . . . but there’s something different today. Like I can feel that he’s closer. Like his little spirit is right here with me.”

Dr. Krane took another step forward. “Don’t sell yourself short. I think you know this little guy better than anyone, Ms. Masterson.”

He hesitated for only a moment before he angled his attention my way. “I’d like to recommend that we start testing weaning him off the ventilator tomorrow morning. He seems to be gaining strength, and the last blood tests were stabilizing.”

I couldn’t tell if it was fear or relief that slammed me at his words.

My hope had never been cautious.

But today it was overwhelming.

A landslide of sensation. Because I’d been whittled raw.

Hurt in so many ways I had no idea if I’d ever heal.

My worry for this little boy, who radiated the biggest, brightest life, even from the depths of the coma he remained in, held there by medicines to give his broken body a better chance to rest and recover.

Not to mention, I was still reeling from what I’d learned, that Dane’s sister had had the very heart defect Evan had.

I’d never met her. Dane and I had just married when she died, our courtship quick, a whirlwind I’d believed an intense kind of love. He’d said she was killed in an accident in another state and insisted I not attend the funeral. He’d claimed he’d needed his space to grieve, which I’d been confused by, but I’d respected it.

I’d just had no idea he had been pulling a veil over my eyes. Lying and lying and lying from the start.

Yesterday, I’d received the documents I’d demanded. Dane relinquishing his parental rights. Of course, it’d come with the stipulation that if I ever disclosed any information I had on his family, Dane would pursue charges of my falsification of Evan’s medical records, the man vile enough to hold the threat of jail time over my head in order to protect himself.

But the truth of the matter was that I was willing to submit to that provision. Let it go, even though it felt as if I were doing Melody a disservice.

Melody.

My heart broke for her. For the greed that had kept her in the dark. Stolen her life. It broke for the man who had loved her and tried to save her and somehow had taken the burden that belonged to the Gentry name and placed it on his own shoulders where it never had belonged.

Then those pieces of my broken heart had been crushed when he’d left me. Because he couldn’t stay through the grief. Because he couldn’t bear any more. Because I’d fallen so hard and I no longer could picture my life without him in it.

But I’d bleed forever if it meant my son would be okay.

“We’ll be monitoring him closely,” Dr. Krane assured me. “At the first sign of distress, we’ll increase him back until we know his heart is ready to beat on its own.”

I twisted my fingers on my lap. Almost painfully as I looked at my son.

My heart.

I peeked up at Dr. Krane, the words laden with a plea. “And what do we do if that time never comes? What if he’s never ready?”

Sympathy edged across his stoic features. “Then he’ll have to go back on the transplant list. But we can cross that bridge when we get to it. Right now, let’s cling to the fact he’s doing so much better than we ever could have imagined. Could have hoped for. He is a true miracle, Ms. Masterson. I’m hopeful for a full recovery.”

My miracle boy.

A single tear fell, and my chest clenched. So tightly. Gratitude and faith and remnants of fear. I reached out and gathered Dr. Krane’s hand in mine. Squeezed it. “Thank you . . . for everything you and your team have done for him.”

A soft smile edged his mouth. “Cases like this?” He gestured to Evan with his chin. “They’re the reason people like us get up every morning to do what we do.”

More tears slipped free, and I swiped at them, overcome. “He’s going to be okay, isn’t he?”

Dr. Krane gave me a slight nod. “He gets stronger every day. That’s the only thing we can ask for.” Something passed through his eyes. “And you need to make sure you take care of yourself. Get some rest. You’ll need your strength for when he returns home.”

Home.

THIS HOUSE IS L-O-V-E.

Everything clutched and clenched.

“I’ll try.”

“Okay, then. I’ll see you in the morning.” He gave me a soft smile before he moved for the door. He’d barely cracked it open an inch when he paused to look back at me. “You know he saved his life, don’t you? We wouldn’t be having this conversation if he hadn’t made it to him when he did. If he had given up. He fought for him, and he saved him.”

My lungs inflated, so light that I felt as if I might blow away. Or maybe I was the most solid I’d ever felt.

“I know.”

His lips gave a slight twist at the corner. “All right then . . . I’ll see you in the morning. Hopefully come then, we’ll get to see this kid’s smile.”

When the door closed behind him, I turned back to Evan and gathered his little hand in mine.

Love came in so many forms.

For moments and for lifetimes.

Kale Bryant might have broken my heart.

But he’d left me with the piece he knew I needed most.

And that love?

It’d come to us at the exact, perfect time.

“My heart,” I whispered.

Evan’s eyes twitched behind his lids.

My heart.

This little boy who would forever hold it.