JULY
-Two Months Later-
“I think I have the last of the boxes, Charlotte.”
“It’ll be so nice to be home again,” she says. “Not that living with you and Olive hasn’t been a treat, but I miss my stuff.”
The renters across the street took an extra month to move out, which pushed Charlotte’s plans back a little. The only thing that matters, though, is that she won the court case and Don is no longer selling scripts to the underground consultants. Proving this fact was a challenge but with Lana’s well-being at stake during the very few visitations she has with Don, the judge was easier to convince with the evidence presented to him. I don’t know if Charlotte is over all of this, and I don’t think she’ll ever trust Don again but her life is slowly falling back into place and that is what is most important.
“Mom, do we really have to move back across the street? I love living here. Plus, Olive and I are like sisters, and you should never separate sisters. Don’t you know that?” Lana and Olive have been moping around the house for the past two weeks since we told them the news. It’s breaking my heart a little.
“Girls, you will only be a hundred feet away from each other. It’s hardly something to be upset about,” Charlotte tells them.
“I don’t understand. Why are you leaving, though?” Olive asks. “Aren’t you and daddy married now? Don’t married people live together?”
Olive’s questions stun me and a large pit gnarls at my stomach as I kneel down and pull her toward me. “Why do you think Charlotte and I got married, Olive?”
“You live together and you love Lana.” Her reasons are so simple, innocent, and true, but yet so far from reality.
“Honey, that doesn’t mean two people are married.”
“But Daddy, you love Charlotte, too,” she says, loud enough that both Charlotte and Lana hear. I can feel Charlotte’s gaze burning a hole into my back right now.
My conscience can’t handle many more of Olive’s intellectual life questions and assumptions. “Ollie, you’re six. How do you know what love is?”
A little smile forms over her lips as she closes her eyes and presses her hands into my shoulders. “It’s the warmth you feel when you’re around someone, like you belong together. Isn’t that how you feel when Charlotte and Lana are here?” Her question stabs right through me, as I never assumed she would be so in tune with all of this, and if I had known, I would have been more careful. I’m just not sure how I could have been more careful in this situation.
“What time is Ari coming over today?” Charlotte asks.
“I don’t know if she is,” I respond.
“What do you mean? It’s Friday. Don’t you two normally go to the gardens?”
“She’s been a little distant lately, but I guess I have been, too.”
“How so?” Charlotte pries.
“I don’t know.” I kind of shrug her off. In truth, I haven’t paid much attention to the lack of communication Ari has had with me, mostly because I’ve had back-to-back jobs for the past two weeks. I’m also a little bummed that Charlotte and Lana are leaving, so I haven’t felt too motivated to do much. AJ got his own place last month and for the first time in months, it’s just going to be Olive and me again. I’m happy to have our alone time back but this house is going to feel very empty as of tomorrow morning.
“Oh,” Charlotte says, seeming a little surprised. She lifts a small box and brings it over to the door to label it. “That’s odd.”
It is weird. I pull out my phone and send Ari a text message.
Me: It’s Friday, are you still coming by today?
Ten minutes pass and there is no response from her. There has been no response to the last several texts I have sent her over the past two weeks—of me checking in and asking her to have a meal with me, or just talk at least.
“Why don’t you go talk to Ari at the shop?” Charlotte suggests.
I nod in response, agreeing with her suggestion. “I’m getting the feeling she might not like that but I need to know what’s going on, I guess.”
“Go ahead; I got the girls. We’ll go start unpacking.”
“Thanks,” I say as I lift Olive up and hug her tightly. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
She places her small hands against my cheeks. “Mommy’s heart isn’t mommy.”
“Olive,” I respond through a hoarse grumble. “I know that.”
“It’s the truth,” she says into my ear. “Just remember that.”
I place her down and look over at Charlotte, who has her hand flattened against her chest, pulling in a deep breath. “I hope everything is okay,” she tells me. “Tell her I say hello.”
“You sure you’re okay with the two of them while you unpack?”
“Yep, we’ll be fine.” Charlotte takes the few steps between us and wraps her arms around my neck—a gesture she hasn’t offered since the moment she moved in here. “Thank you for saving us when I needed it the most. What you have done is unforgettable and you are truly the most genuine, best friend I have ever had. If that’s what I’m lucky enough to walk away from you with, then I am grateful.”
“You’re talking like you’re never going to speak to me again now that you aren’t forced to,” I respond nervously.
“I didn’t say that,” she says. Pulling back a bit, she sweeps her thumb across my cheek before placing a small kiss where her thumb was. The touch of her lips sends comforting warmth through my entire body and it was only my cheek that she kissed.
I grab my keys from the side table and step outside into the warm July air. The sun is hot today and the air is dry, making for the perfect summer weather—Ellie’s favorite kind of day. Shortly after we got married, we would go to the gardens, find a bench directly in the sun and sit there until it got too hot. We’d hang our heads backward over the top of the bench’s back as we allowed the sun to wrap us up in its heat.
Before heading to the flower shop, I take a detour to the gardens, arriving alone for the first time in a couple of months. I take the steps slowly down into the shaded area where our tree is. It’s surrounded by the jasmines Ari and I planted here a couple of months ago.
I place my hand over the engraved writing and press my head against the tree. “Am I doing this all wrong, Ell? I feel like that’s all I ever ask you. I just wish you could answer me for once.” I sigh heavily and drop down into the grass. “I thought I had this all figured out but you know what I can’t figure out? I was never supposed to have to make a decision like this. You were supposed to be with me until we were old and gray.” Gripping at the sharp blades of new grass, blame filters through me like it often does. “Instead, I was a jackass and got us into a car accident. And you were a jackass and didn’t tell me that the car accident shortened your life by seventy years or so. I guess us two jackasses were destined for each other. But now I’m sitting here in front of two paths and I don’t know which way to go.” I take a deep breath, contemplating the answer to my own question. “Ell, do I follow your heart or mine?”
“You follow yours, Hunter.” Ari’s voice is soft among the slight breeze. I didn’t see her walk down the steps, and I didn’t see her car in the lot when I came in but she’s come from the path behind me, which means she was here all along.
“Ari,” I say, standing up, brushing the dirt from my backside. “Why haven’t you returned my texts or calls?”
She places a hand over her heart, Ellie’s heart. Looping her other arm around mine, she pulls me toward the bench where we both take a seat.
“Do you remember when I told you I was no good for you, that you would end up hurt because of me?” she asks.
“Yeah, I remember that conversation.” I place my hand down on her trembling knee.
“I’m selfish. I’ve been selfish, Hunter, but please, go along with this—whatever this has been—companionship, friendship, connection, a little more.”
I don’t understand what she means by that. My eyes strain against the sun as I continue staring at her with wonder. “There is no such thing as selfish, considering the hand you’ve been dealt.”
“I’ve known all along that you’re in love with the heart in my body, and I can’t help but feel like I took it for granted—the way you treat me is like no one else has ever treated me. You’re a gentleman and perfect in every other way, too. As simple as our relationship has remained, you have still managed to make me feel things I was sure I would never have the opportunity to feel, but mostly, you have made me feel alive.”
“Are you saying goodbye to me?” I laugh anxiously, realizing that while I want to think it’s a joke, I’m pretty sure it’s not.
She looks up to the sky and closes one eye against the brightness. “I saw you and Charlotte at the grocery store last week.” She pauses and smiles up at the sun. “You know you two are meant to be together, right?”
“What? Where were you? Why didn’t come over to us?”
“I—I can’t answer that yet.”
“I don’t understand where this is all coming from, Ari.”
“I know,” she says. “Hunter, I know you want to be around me for more reasons than just Ellie’s heart. We’ve gotten really close, but I’m hurting your life right now. You just don’t realize it.”
I lean down and pick a small, white flower from the ground, holding my focus on it as I digest every word she’s saying. “How could you think that?”
“Besides that I feel like I’m preventing you from moving on to have a normal relationship with Charlotte, the one person who will likely be there to grow old with you, there’s one fact you have overlooked, or possibly never considered.”
A gust of wind blows the small flower from my loose grip, and my heart pounds heavily as I look back over at her. Her pinched lips tell me she is struggling to retain her composure. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, ” I say, tilting my head, and giving her a bewildered look.
“Some people are incredibly lucky and live a long life with their transplant but one out of two heart recipients don’t survive for more than ten years.”
“Well, you’re on the better half of that fifty percent,” I tell her, feeling angry that she should consider being on the other end of that half. Ellie’s heart is meant to survive. With that, I see a fascinating stone I think Olive would like. Attempting to distract myself from what I’m hearing, I bend down to pick it up, noticing that it is, ironically, heart-shaped—not like a valentine heart, but a real heart.
She shakes her head and sweeps her hair behind her back. “No, I’m not,” she says, through a frustrated exhale.
“What? What are you talking about?” I ask, my voice betraying my anger as I chuck the stone as far as I can throw it. “You have no way of knowing that. Ari, you shouldn’t talk like that. You need to stay positive. Look how far you’ve come in the past six years.”
“Hunter,” she says calmly. “Stop. Just stop.”
“Ari, what the hell are you trying to tell me right now?”
She stands up from the bench and wrings her fingers around her wrists as she paces back and forth. “Last Friday afternoon I had my bi-annual heart check-up. The doctor found something we had all been hoping not to find.”
“What? Ari, tell me, please,” I beg.
“The scans came back showing that I have accelerated coronary artery disease.” I don’t even know what that means but the word disease and artery give enough away.
“Well, they can fix that. They can give you meds or change your diet, right? Now that they know you have it, they can treat it...surely.” I know I sound ridiculous and I have no idea what I’m talking about. “I’m sure they can do something to help you. Again, don’t be so negative.” I’m nearly yelling at her, scolding her for saying what she’s saying. Why is she saying all of this to me? Why does she look like she’s about to be sick? Why do I feel like I’m about to be sick? Why the hell do I feel like I might start crying like a goddamn baby here in a minute?
“They gave me a year at most, Hunter,” and, just like that, she says the words I was hoping never to hear from her. “I was going to keep this to myself for fear of putting you through something like this after what you have already been through.”
I stand up and, without any words to say, I grab her and pull her into me tightly. I squeeze her harder than I should, and I cry harder than I’ve let anyone see me cry in years. I bury my head in her shoulder, shaking her along with my shuddering body. “No,” I cry. “No, no, no…”
She wraps her arms back around me. “I was given six years—a gift from Ellie. It was a gift, Hunter. I was never supposed to make it past twenty and now I’m almost thirty. It’s a gift. Please, realize what she did for me. Her heart was supposed to be only for her but she shared it so I could experience just a little bit of a normal adult life. It’s all I had wanted since I was diagnosed with heart failure at fifteen. I’m not sad. I’m not scared. I’m so unbelievably grateful for what you and Ellie have given me.” What did I give her? I didn’t give her Ellie’s heart. I would have fought Ellie on giving away her heart if I had known her plans. I wanted to keep her together and whole for my own selfish reasons, which is crazy since she was cremated into a billion pieces, but because she was smart enough not to tell me, Ari was given time because of Ellie. Only Ellie.
“I’m not leaving your side,” I tell her.
“Yes, you are,” she responds. “You’re going to go be with the woman you are in love with, and it will make me happy to know I can leave this world to find Ellie up there and tell her that in return for the gift of her heart, I made sure your heart is happy.”
Her sentiment is appreciated but I can’t sit here and tell her I’m walking away now because she’s dying—because Ellie’s heart is dying. “I’m going to do whatever it takes to help you.”
“I’ll be fine,” she says. “My parents are moving in with me next week.”
“Is it going to just happen or...”
“I’ve been through it once before. It’ll be a gradual deterioration again, the doctor said.”
“What about another donor? Can we find you another donor?” I’m spitting off ideas I’m almost positive she has already considered.
“Hunter,” she laughs quietly. “Ellie was my one and only. Trust me. I’m sure you knew she had a rare AB negative blood type.”
“Yeah, the rarest of blood types. It wasn’t something I ever had to think about, though,” I tell her.
“Fate brought Ellie and me together, I believe. Less than one percent of the population has that blood type and to end up finding her, it all just felt like a sign for both of us.” Ironic, how we both feel the same way about Ellie—for so long, I considered Ellie to be my one and only. Though, the healing process has recently proven to me that sometimes there is more than one chance for all of us.
“One percent of the world’s population is seventy-one million, Ari.”
She squeezes me again and rests her head against my shoulder as her hand finds mine and brings it up to her chest, allowing me to feel Ellie’s heart beating again. “Now do you understand why I told you I am not your path?”
“Yeah,” I breathe, “but your path brought me to where I am right now. You were right about Robert Frost being wrong.”
“Take me to Charlotte,” she says. “I need to talk to her.”
“What? Why?” I ask, pulling away, staring at her with question.
“Just take me to her.”
During the ride from the gardens to my house, I feel like I’m stuck in gridlock traffic. I grip the steering until my knuckles are white, my chest is aching, my throat is tight, my head is pounding, and I still feel like I might get sick. I’m trying to understand everything Ari just told me. I’m also trying to find loopholes and ways to spin this in a better direction. No one has ever told me they’re dying and now that it has happened, I feel lost in the center of a black tornado, one that’s sucking my organs out of my pores. She was right in a way about Robert Frost being full of it. In some aspects there are no paths to choose from, everything is predestined and when a person is meant to die, they die. There are no options.
“Do you feel sick and stuff?” I ask her.
“I’ve been a little tired, breathless, and nauseous, but I have definitely experienced worse.” Of course she has, she was days or weeks from dying when she received Ellie’s heart. Now she has to go through this all over again. How cruel is life to do this to someone twice?
“I want to help you,” I tell her again. I’m not going to sit back and pretend she doesn’t exist until I read her obituary in the paper some day.
“I appreciate that,” she says, “but knowing what I will go through over the next several months is not something I want anyone to bear witness to.”
“That’s selfish,” I tell her. “Do you think I care what you look like?”
“Hunter,” she says firmly. “I will not put you through this a second time. Losing Ellie was more loss than you should ever have to deal with in one lifetime.”
I twist and squeeze my grip around the steering wheel, wanting to say so much but knowing nothing I say will have any effect.
“What about the flower shop?”
I see her shrug out of the corner of my eye. “I’ll keep working until it becomes too much.”
“And what, you just drop dead one day while you’re alone in the shop?” I shouldn’t have said that. Her eyes are shooting invisible daggers at the side of my face and she has every right to be looking at me that way.
“My mother calls me every hour. If I don’t answer, she will assume I’m dead,” she snaps, finally getting angry, herself. Her tone is harsh, her words cold, and full of so much fucking pain, pain that she’s been trying to hide.
“Can I visit you?” I ask, attempting to act a little gentler. I feel like I already know the answer to this, considering there are only so many ways I can ask the same question.
“No,” she says without much thought.
“But the store is open to the public, isn’t it?” Now I just sound childish, which I know won’t help but it makes me feel better.
“Hunter,” she sighs. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.” Now she sounds like Mom lecturing me. “If you don’t think I would like to die some meaningful death beside the man who has become so intricately woven through every facet of my life, then you’re wrong. I love that you have chosen to spend so much time with me over the past few months. To know the man who lost his heart the day Ellie gave hers to me has offered me more peace than you could ever imagine. Again, though, that was selfish. I wanted to meet you so I could feel better knowing you weren’t still that man folded in half beneath a pay phone at the hospital. I needed to know you were surviving. God gives and God takes. He gave to me and took from you, and I needed to personally thank you because it was the least I could do.” Ari sniffles briefly through a pause in her clearly unfinished thoughts. “You’re an incredible person, Hunter, and I have cherished the time we have spent together—my guilt isn’t as suffocating since I know you’re going to be okay. But beyond that, my selfishness ends here. Now, I want to protect you from watching another person in your life—die.” She makes it sound like she was using me but I wanted to be near her for a selfish reason, as well. A reason that won’t exist for much longer because she’s going to die.
Die. Those three letters pack a punch every time I hear them—they symbolize the end of everything. My ears should be numb to that word by now, but they aren’t. It takes such a short breath of air to say it and while it seems to always be followed by a period, there is no real need for one because “die” defines completion. The period should be a silent punctuation mark; quietly puncturing it’s way through the heart of anyone who witnesses the meaning of this stupid word.
We pull into my driveway and I step out first, watching as Ari stares expressionlessly out through the windshield. I want to know what is going through her mind. I want to know if everything she just told me was a forced lie and that she really does want me to be there for her. But as the thought runs through my mind once more, I remember the last breath I saw Ellie take on her own without a goddamn machine hooked up to her. I remember witnessing her lifeless body only moments after her brain died. The life that was once written across her face relaxed into a smooth surface of plateaued nothingness. I’m not sure I have it in me to live through that again in any form, whether our relationship was based on selfish gains or not, but I would if it meant something to her...I would stand by her side.
I have not fallen in love with Ari in the typical man loves a woman fashion. Instead, I love the person who has taken the time with Ellie’s heart to make sure everything her heart has touched has been cared for in some way. I love that a person was able to keep her heart alive, even if only for a short time. Ellie’s heart was large and full of so much love, care, and compassion that it deserved to go those extra miles.
I open Ari’s door and offer her my hand. “I can get out myself,” she says, humbly. “Thank you, though.”
Once outside of the truck, Ari leads the way toward my front door but I stop her. “Charlotte moved home today.” Ari looks at me for a few long seconds, peering back and forth between my eyes. “She was happy to get her house back.”
Ari’s brows arch a touch as she processes this tidbit of information. Then she turns and brushes by me, heading down the driveway toward the street. I follow her onto Charlotte’s driveway and up to her front door. I still have no clue why she wanted to come here or what she needs to say to Charlotte but we’re here now, and I should find out soon why she’s doing this.
Charlotte answers the door, looking confused at first. “Ari? Are you okay?” She didn’t see me at first glance but now she does and the question grows stronger within her eyes. I give her the same puzzled look back, letting her know I have no idea what this is all about. “Come in,” Charlotte says, backing away from the door, allowing us to come inside. Boxes are now scattered, rather than stacked how I left them. Half of them are torn open and the other half are still taped shut. The furniture hasn’t been taken out of storage yet but the moving company is supposed to be bringing everything by tomorrow morning. Basically, the house is empty.
I hear the girls singing and dancing in one of the rooms upstairs and the echo of their voices tells me that room is still barren, too. “I’m sorry to intrude on you like this,” Ari says, taking in the scene of the empty house. “I’m sure you have a lot to do and you don’t need me taking up any of your time but I felt it was necessary to come over here and talk to you. Both of you.”
Charlotte’s expression has turned into worry, and I can assume she is as in the dark as I am on what this could be about and why Ari wants to be here in Charlotte’s house.
“I’m sorry I don’t have a seat to offer you,” Charlotte says. “You look frazzled. What’s going on?” Charlotte looks at me as if the answer might be written across my face or spoken by my eyes but I don’t think there’s a look to convey that a person in this room is dying.
“Hunter is in love with you,” Ari says in between heavy breaths, sounding as though she just climbed a set of stairs. “He talks about you all of the time. His eyes light up when I mention your name. He talks about Lana as if she were equally as much of a daughter to him as Olive. Sharing a home with you for the past few months was a treat for him, something he enjoyed, rather than a person living with a roommate. You moving out is hard on him. You are the family he has wanted since Ellie passed.
The relationship that has existed between Hunter and I has been a glorified friendship, one I have enjoyed more than I could ever explain. I am only the person who carries Ellie’s heart, and I’m not the one who should be standing between you two.”
“Ari,” Charlotte croaks. “Why...”
“I’m saying this because you look at him the same way. You talk about him whenever you and I speak. You love Olive. You have loved living with the two of them and you are only moving out because you think it is what he wants.”
“That’s not true,” Charlotte says with the sound of hesitation woven through every word. “Not all of it is true.” I’m not sure it matters what parts are or aren’t true. They all essentially mean the same thing.
“Hunter adores me,” Ari continues. “He is in love with my heart. He has been a really good companion and he has removed the guilt I was desperate to shed.” Ari walks closer, taking Charlotte’s her hands in her own. “I feel lucky and grateful to have spent this time learning about him, hearing his happiness poke through his words when he talks about you. I have watched him gradually grow happier as the months have gone by and it’s fulfilling to me. It has made me love him.” Ari laughs softly as a pink blush fills her cheeks. “My heart belongs to Ellie, and Hunter’s heart belongs to you, Charlotte.”
Charlotte’s eyes grow wide as a film of tears underline her lashes. “I don’t think I understand why you’re saying all of this,” Charlotte says.
I feel like I should step in and shield both of them from the pain, but I don’t know how to and I don’t know what to say. I don’t think it’s my right to announce Ari’s preplanned future.
Ari leans toward the stairwell, presumably making sure the girls are not in hearing range. As she re-straightens her posture, she draws in a sharp, short breath. “There was never a life-long warranty on this heart I have and each transplant turns out differently. Some are lucky and live a long life, while others don’t make it through the first six months after surgery. I’ve had almost six years and I consider it lucky.”
“What?” Charlotte asks through a hitched breath.
“I won’t make it through this next year,” Ari says without wavering a syllable.
Charlotte isn’t as strong, however. Tears are barreling down her cheeks; leaving red streaks down the center of her already flushed skin. There are no words to follow Ari’s, as I’ve already learned. Instead of speaking, Charlotte leaps toward Ari and wraps her arms around her neck. I wonder if Charlotte has ever been told by a person that they are dying or if this is a first for her, too. I’m guessing it is. Charlotte’s eyes are wide, unblinking, and staring directly at me as if someone just delivered world-shattering news. It definitely shatters our own little world and changes everything.
Ari wraps her arms around Charlotte in return and rests her head on her shoulder. “I’ll be there for you,” Charlotte says. “Every day. Whatever you need. We’ll all be there for you.”
Hearing the warm words float from Charlotte’s mouth highlights the feelings I have always felt toward her. “That isn’t necessary, but thank you for the kind offer,” Ari says, pulling away from Charlotte’s tight grip.
“You must be out of your mind,” Charlotte argues. “I’m your friend and I will do anything I can to be whatever you need from here on out.”
I know they have spoken when their paths have crossed but I’m not sure I would have classified them as friends in the awkward situation I created for the three of us. “I don’t want to put you through what is about to happen to me,” Ari explains. “Especially Hunter.”
“Stop worrying about me,” I tell Ari.
“Look,” Ari says. “I came over here today because I need you two to work things out and be there for each other. I need to let Ellie know that I did what I promised I would do and that is to make sure Hunter is happy. I made this promise to her years ago when she knew her time would come sooner rather than later. I made this promise when neither of us knew who would outlive whom.
Charlotte and I are in a stare off, apparently trying to read each other’s minds.
“It might take some time to intertwine your pieces back together,” Ari says, looking between the two of us, “but Charlotte is your path, Hunter.” Ari holds her focus on Charlotte now. “And Hunter is yours. I’ve never been surer of anything in my entire life.”
“Ari,” Charlotte says, but without anything to follow it up with, silence fills the empty room.
With what feels like the longest minute of my life, Olive’s footsteps eliminate the icy silence and she runs toward Ari and wraps her arms around her legs. “Did you tell him?” she asks Ari.
Question and heat spread through me rapidly, wondering what Olive knows and what Ari told her. She is my daughter and I will be the one to explain life and death to her. That is my job and my right; one no one should take from me. Though I realize I might be assuming too much, I can’t for the life of me imagine what else Olive could be referring to. When would Ari have told her?
“Tell me what, Olive?” I try to keep my voice calm and my breaths tamed but my face is burning and I’m sure it’s red.
“I haven’t yet, Olive,” Ari says.
“Ari has a gift for you,” Olive says.
Ari reaches into her purse and pulls out an envelope. “Read this when it’s too late to thank me,” she says, handing it to me. The coffee filter looking envelope matches all of the others she sent to me over the years. “Promise me.”
My words feel lodged in my throat so I do the next best thing and nod a yes.
“I know you’re saying your goodbyes right now, Ari, but you haven’t seen the last of us,” Charlotte says sternly. “You’ll have to hire an army to keep us away.”