Page 2 of Letters From a Broken Heart
“Just like I am without him,” I whisper as more tears trickle down my cheek. This is a constant thing in my life now. Tears are just as common as eating anymore.
Without a single word Easton wraps his arms around me and buries his face in my neck. He holds onto me tightly, making my chest ache with pain and discomfort. I could complain and I know he’d release me right away, but I won't. For the first time in a while, I feel something other than misery.
“I know, Tay, I’m lost without him too. Everything changed when he died and I don’t know how to get life to return to normal.”
Neither of us say anything as we hold onto each other. Jack was my entire world. Without him everything seems dull and pointless. It’s not worth living anymore. They should just bury me next to him because this life isn't what I imagined it’d be.
“I already lost my brother. I can’t lose you too, Taylor,” Easton whispers in my ear. “You’re the only connection I have to him.”
“Every time I look at you, all I see is him,” I whisper my confession into my silent apartment.
“I know. It kills me that I’m hurting you, but I can’t walk away. Jack would hate me if I did. He’d want me to be by your side and helping you with everything that’s happened. When do you go to your next doctor’s appointment?”
“Friday,” I whisper.
I don’t know what news they’ll give me at the appointment. Maybe they’ll say my body is rejecting the foreign heart. That I’m giving up completely and the heart can't handle it.
“Ok. I’m coming with you.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m fine going by myself.” Somehow, it’s easier when I'm alone. I can get the information I need and leave without talking to anyone or discussing the next steps.
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.” He ducks his head until he’s meeting my gaze. He holds onto my arms and makes sure I'm really paying attention to him. “Let me in, Taylor. Please.”
And with that one word, I know I'm going to let him come with me. I'll let him tag along and be there for me because how can Inot? He’s all I have left. The only piece of Jack I can hold onto. And if I let go of him, I'm not sure how I’ll survive.
Chapter 2
Easton
‘She’s doing well.’
That’s what the doctor said. One simple sentence. My brother’s heart is beating strongly in her chest and there’s no sign of her body rejecting it… yet.
I swallow hard and open the car door for Taylor. We haven’t said a word to each other and it’s really starting to get to me.
When the doctor told her everything looked good and the donor heart was doing well, she broke down and sobbed. I can only imagine how hard it is to know you have a second chance at life because your boyfriend lost his future, but she needs to keep going. She needs to keep fighting and get to a better place mentally.
I need her to.
“Hey,” I stop Taylor before she can get in the car and pull her into my arms. “You can talk to me, Tay. We’re friends and always have been.”
“There’s nothing to say. I just want to go home and curl up in bed.”
I hold her for a few seconds longer, then I step back and motion for her to get into the car. I run a rough hand through my hair and try to figure out what to do. Jack wouldn’t want her to be living this empty life. He’d want her to be happy. To smile and laugh as much as she did when he was alive. He’d want her to keep living.
Taylor doesn’t leave her apartment unless she has a doctor’s appointment. She barely interacts with anyone and owning her own web design business only makes that easier for her. She doesn’t even need to get out of bed to work.
As far as I know, she’s still working and keeping up with her clients’ requests, but she doesn’t talk about work. She never really has. She says web design is boring and there’s nothing to discuss about it.
We pull out of the parking lot and turn onto the highway. The silence is suffocating, making me wish she’d yell at me again. Anything to get some sort of reaction out of her.
I wish I could come up with some profound thing to say to her. Something that could pull her out of this deep depression, but I’ve got nothing. Honestly, if I weren’t so worried about her, I’d probably be stuck in my own deep depression. I’d be struggling to find my own will to continue.
It’s funny how I don’t struggle to keep moving forward because I need to get her to keep going. I don’t have time to be depressed because I focus on helping her get better.
“Do you want to stop and get something for lunch?” I ask with a lot more pep in my tone than I feel.
“I’m not hungry,” Taylor says softly.
