Page 5 of Letters From a Broken Heart
“I hated seeing you hurt so badly.” His hand moves from my scar to my cheek and he leans his forehead against mine.
Just having someone touch me makes me feel like I’m alive again. I rarely ever have any skin on skin contact. Everyone’s scared of touching me or hurting me. This feels amazing.
“Can you take off your shirt?” I murmur before I can think better of it.
Easton pulls back far enough to meet my gaze. His brows are furrowed, but he doesn’t say anything.
“I just want skin on skin contact. I don’t get that anymore and having you touch me makes me feel better.” I wince at how stupid I sound, but Easton doesn’t hesitate.
He sits up in bed and grips the back of his shirt. He tugs it over his head in one motion and lays it on the nightstand. I move to take my shirt off, but he stops me.
“What are you doing, Tay?”
“I have on a bralette.” I roll my eyes. “It covers just as much as my bathing suit does… but it will show more of my scar.” I freeze and realize maybe he doesn’t want to see my scar. Maybe he finds it repulsive and doesn’t want to see anything to remind him of how he lost his brother.
The thought hits me like a mac truck. Yes, I lost my boyfriend and the man I love, but Easton lost his best friend. His brother. And though I'm not the reason he’s dead, I'm the one that got his heart. How painful is it for him to look at me and know I'm only alive because his brother died? This scar is a constant reminder of that for him.
“Hey, where’d you go, Tay?” Easton scrambles closer to me and frames my face with his hands. He ducks his head until he can meet my gaze and doesn’t shy away from me. “What’s going through that pretty little head of yours?”
“Do you hate me?” The words are out before I can stop myself. I wish I could take them back because honestly, I don’t want to know the answer. If he hates me, I’ve lost everything. I’ll have nothing left to live for.
“What? Why would I hate you, sweetheart?”
“Because Jack is dead.”
“And that wasn’t your fault,” he says softly. His tone is so gentle and loving, it makes my chest ache and not because of my surgery or recovery.
“But I'm only alive because he’s dead.” I force the words out of my mouth, putting it all on the table. If he’s going to walk away from me, I’d rather him do it now. Yet, just the thought of losing him too has tears slipping down my cheeks.
“Taylor, listen to me carefully. I love you. I’ve always loved you. And just because you have Jack’s heart in your chest, isn't going to make me love you less.” He brushes away a tear with the pad of his thumb.
“I just… I don’t want you sticking around out of a sense of loyalty.”
“I'm sticking around because you’re my best friend. Honestly, it’s a little hurtful that you don’t realize that. It was always the three of us against the world. Just because Jack’s gone doesn’t mean we no longer have a relationship. I thought I was your friend separate from Jack.”
The rawness and vulnerability in Easton’s voice makes me want to climb in the bottom of my closet and hide. How could I hurt him like this? Of course we have a relationship separate from Jack. It was stupid for me to think he was only here out of loyalty to his brother.
“Obviously we have a relationship. You were always my best friend and I don’t know what I’d do without you. I need you now more than ever.”
Without another word, I reach for the hem of my shirt again and this time Easton doesn’t stop me. In fact, he pushes my hands aside and lifts my shirt himself. He places it on top of his and scoots lower in bed, holding out an arm for me.
I don’t waste a second, curling into his side, I place my head on his chest and my arm across his stomach. Easton wraps his arm around me and his large hand splays across my ribs. I’ve never felt so loved and protected than I do right now.
Even with Jack.
The steady, strong thump of his heart lolls me back to sleep.
He’s right here. He’s strong and I'm not going to lose him.
Chapter 4
Taylor
The device next to me fills the air with a loud beep, beep, beep. I freeze for a second and stare at it. This can't be real. I just got put on the donor list last month. They said it could take six months or longer for me to get a new heart.
Shaking my head, I snatch the beeper off my desk and click through it to find the number I need to call. My hands are shaking as I dial the number and lift my phone to my ear.
“Hello. This is the Organ Procurement Organization; how may I help you?”
