Violet
I hear someone clinking cutlery against glass, indicating that they want to make a speech and I spin around, looking for the speaker.
I recognise his voice a fraction of a second before my eyes land on his face, in all its smiling perfection.
The earth has circled the sun five times since he officially came into my life, yet every time I look into his startling blue eyes; it feels like the very first time.
“I’d like to make a toast.” He smiles at me and my belly flips.
I don’t know how he does that. He still has the power to turn my insides to mush, even after all these years.
“Thank you all for coming… there’s two very special women I need to make mention of tonight, the first being my beautiful wife.”
He smiles so wide at me that everybody else in the room follows suit, looking at me and smiling along with him.
I know I’m bright red, but I don’t care, his words mean more to me than anybody else’s and right now, he’s all I can see.
“The art you’re about to witness, she has been working on for literally her entire life. She has laid herself bare on those canvases, and for her to allow the whole world to see them is certainly no small feat.”
He looks at me with such tenderness in his eyes I have to fight to hold his gaze rather than shy away from it.
“I can personally vouch for the rollercoaster of emotions that you’ll experience when you walk through those doors… because trust me; some of those paintings have the power to bring you to your knees.”
The skin on my arms has broken out into goosebumps now; all the individual little hairs are standing up on end. He’s the only person close to me to see my collection in its entirety thus far, and I know he means every word he’s saying.
Lucy reaches for my hand and grips it tightly in hers.
Her belly is round for the third time and her skin is positively glowing again, only this time it’s not her bun she’s cooking in her oven, it’s mine.
I squeeze her hand back appreciatively; I’m so incredibly grateful for the selfless woman I get to call my best friend. She knows me as well as she knows herself, so she of all people understands exactly how nervous I am right now.
“Congratulations, gorgeous, I can’t think of a single person who deserves this moment more than you do.” Rylan lifts his flute of wine in my direction.
I hold back tears as I walk towards him and he wraps me in his strong, safe arms while everybody around us claps and cheers.
“Thank you,” I murmur against his chest.
He kisses the top of my head and when I pull away, he tucks me into his side, his arm wrapping protectively around me, the same way it always has.
“But there’s also one other woman I need to thank tonight.”
I already know what he’s going to say next, and just the mere thought of it has the first of what I’m sure will be many tears slipping down my face.
“My sister.”
Everyone is watching him closely, intrigued by his words. He’s always been the kind of man that commands the attention of a room, but I think we can all feel that this is something more.
“All of you already know that some years back, Violet’s life was saved when she received a heart transplant… but there’s one thing that some of you probably don’t know, something that neither Violet or I knew when we first met either.”
I think back to the moment when I decided that I undoubtedly believed in fate.
“A few years ago, Violet reached out to her donor’s family, she wrote a beautiful, heartfelt letter expressing how grateful she was… and not long after, I received a letter. It was from a bright, incredible woman who told me that someone in my family had saved her life… it was only then that I realised my sister was her donor.”
I hear a few gasps from the crowd.
He looks down at me now, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, but his expression bright and happy.
He’s finally made peace with the tragedy that took his sister’s life and in turn, gave me mine.
“My sister gave life to the woman who would later become the love of mine and I know it was her that brought the two of us together.”
He kisses my head again, but I know this time it’s for his benefit, not mine. He draws strength from being close to me, and he needs that strength right now as he talks about the possibility of my life coming to an end and as he relives the memory of his sister losing hers.
“Violet’s told me about how she technically died once, when she was twenty-one years old… she told me about her heart going into cardiac arrest and about the woman who brought her back from the brink of death. But it wasn’t until much later on that I knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was my sister Daisy that brought Violet and I together.”
My mum, dad and brother are eyeing me curiously now, but Auggie, she just looks totally serene – like maybe she already knows what’s coming.
He turns so he’s speaking directly to my family. “My sister was a cardiologist… you knew her actually… she would have introduced herself as Dr. White – she was the woman who saved Violet’s life that day.”
I can hear my mum sobbing now as the weight of what he’s saying presses down on all of us. We chose to save that final piece of information for this exact moment and I’m glad we did. Daisy’s memory deserves this honour.
The fact that Dr. White – the woman who brought me back to life and then treated me for the months that followed afterwards – is not only his sister, but also my donor, still blows my mind each and every time I think about it.
“So…” he takes a deep steadying breath, “I just wanted to thank her, because it takes an incredible woman to not only save lives in life, but also in death.”
He raises his glass to the sky now.
“To Daisy, thank you, even though you’re gone, you’ve somehow managed to do what you’ve always done – you gave me a life worth living.”
The group surrounding us erupts into applause and I feel myself being pulled into embrace after embrace.
Tears are flowing freely down my face, along with everyone else in the room.
I glance up at the daisy chain I painted on the welcome banner and smile. They’re the same ones from my vision, the ones I never really understood until that final connection between Rylan and I was made.
The daisies are for Daisy.
I’ve dreamt about this moment for so long – the moment where I’m brave enough to share my work with the world, and also where we can pay tribute to the woman who saved my life on more than one occasion, and now it’s finally here.
I’m eventually released by my friends and family, and right on cue the doors are opened to allow everyone into the gallery to witness my exhibition for the very first time.
I’m terrified of what people will think, but with Rylan looking at me like I’m everything, I know that I have what it takes to be exactly that in this world.
I run my fingertip gently over the cover of the booklet in my hand.
The two words looking back at me, much like the beating organ in my chest, are as much hers as they are mine.
It’s the introduction to my life’s work, to everything I’ve ever kept hidden, and it’s simply titled ‘My Heart’.
The end
“Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end.”
-Seneca