Page 7 of The Love of Our Lives
‘Then what the hell did you mean?’
I don’t know what to say – how can you explain losing your other half the way I had?
Eventually Jess throws her hands up in the air when I don’t reply. ‘Jesus Christ, Maggie, how can I help you if you don’t tell me anything?’
‘Oh, you’re one to talk,’ I say without thinking. ‘How come you never told me you were reconsidering Amsterdam?’
Jess stops; her face falls.
‘Look, I’m sorry about that. I told Graham not to say anything,’ she starts. ‘It’s just . . . it’s just—’
‘Just what?’
She says nothing, and I have to close my eyes as a heat starts to build behind them.
‘Jess,’ I say, opening them again, ‘you don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’m doing everything in my power to keep this heart healthy, so everyone can go live their lives and I’ll live mine.’
‘But that’s the point, Maggie,’ Jess cries now, ‘you’re not living.’
My breath catches, like I’ve been winded. But she doesn’t stop.
‘To be honest,’ she says, a fire in her eyes now, ‘I’m not even sure you deserved to get the heart.’
The words are like a slap in the face, and my whole body stiffens with the shock of it.
‘I’m going for a walk,’ I say, and before she can utter another word, I turn on my heel and head across the lawn.
As I go down the pathway again, I think I can hear Mum calling my name from somewhere, but the words muffle, then evaporate into the sky.
Blood rushes in my ears.
Heading along the gravelled walkway under the trees, the area is quieter here. I stride as quickly as I’ll let myself, finding that my feet know where I’m going before I even do.
I keep going until I hit a crossways, the sycamore and the ash trees beckoning gently in the summer breeze above me. But then I stop.
I go no further.
And in this moment, I know I never will.
Because I was right – I can never have the life I truly want. I gave it a shot before, and my sister died.
Then a wonderful woman called Stella died too, so I could live. There’s no way I’m risking this heart now.
Turning back on the path, I feel a pull at my chest, sudden and sharp. And in seconds it’s tearing across the whole of me, and I’m slumping to the ground.
My head hits the sand with a silent thud.
Pain soars.
I grapple to say something, call out to anyone who might hear, but nothing comes. I stare up at that endless blue sky, one solitary yellow balloon rising up through it, and I cannot breathe.
CHAPTER FOUR
Light.
Soft material against my face.
I take a moment to open my eyes. Turning over, the scent of jasmine floods my nose; a washing powder I don’t know.
