Page 25 of Letters From a Broken Heart
“You might as well get the medication now. She’s going to lose it,” Mr. Gaines says softly. He sounds like he’s seconds away from crying again and that makes it even harder for me to stay strong.
The nurse disappears and comes back a few seconds later with another syringe. She nods to Mr. Gaines, but I cantell he can't do it. He doesn’t know how to break his daughter’s heart and tell her the man she loves is gone.
So, I take a deep breath and tell her the one thing that could drive her even further away from me. After all, she’ll never be mine so it doesn’t really matter. There’s no chance of me getting my happily ever after with my deceased brother’s girlfriend. It doesn’t matter if I loved her more or if I wanted her first. My chance is gone.
“He’s gone, Tay. He was in a car accident and he didn’t make it.” I take her hand in mine as my tears drip from my chin and splash onto our joined hands.
“What? No! That can’t be! I just talked to him the morning of my surgery and he was fine! Where is he, Easton!”
“He died. Some girl was texting on her phone and didn’t realize how curvy the road was. She swerved and hit him. He hit his head and there was a brain bleed. His heart was still working, but he was brain dead.”
“No! I don’t believe you. I want to see Jack. Get me Jack, Easton! Please!”
I settle on the edge of her bed and wrap my arms gently around her. I don’t want to hurt her after her surgery, but she needs someone to comfort her. I don’t know what else to do, other than hug her.
“I know, Tay. I hate that he’s gone, but at least he gave you back to me. He gave you a second chance.”
“What are you talking about? How did he give me asecond chance?”
“Your heart donor… Your heart is from Jack, sweetie.” Mrs. Gaines places her hand on Taylor’s shoulder and rubs it.
“I don’t want a second chance! Not if he’s not here! I want to die.”
The ache in my chest spreads with the words she screams. She doesn’t want to live. She doesn’t want to keep going without him.
I get it. I really do. They’ve been dating for a long time and she was in love with him, but it’s another reminder of how little I mean to her. She doesn’t care if I'm right here loving her, she only wants him.
“Don’t say that, Tay. I need you. You have to stay here with me or his death was for nothing,” My voice breaks as more tears slip down my cheeks.
Jack’s death was hard and I’ll never be the same without my brother, but this… this might kill me.
“Hey, are you ok?” Taylor places her hand on my thigh and stares up at me with concern. There’s a crease between her brows as she watches me carefully.
“Sorry, I was lost in thought,” I mumble.
“Thought or a bad memory?” She asks knowingly.
“A bad memory.”
She nods her head, then rests it against my shoulder. She’s this silent support I didn’t expect to have today, but I really appreciate it. I'm not sure I would’ve gotten through my speech without her sitting in the front row.
I pretended I was just speaking to her and no one else. I wrote the entire thing with her in mind and I'm happy with how it turned out. She needed to hear every word I said and I’ll keep reminding her until she believes she shouldn’t feel guilty for having Jack’s heart in her chest.
As people get food, soft conversations begin around the tables. There are probably over two hundred people stuffed into this restaurant. It never ceases to amaze me how many more people show up to the funeral of someone younger than someone older.
All deaths are hard, but there’s something especially hard about losing someone younger. Someone with their entire future ahead of them.
“Do you want me to make you a plate?” I lean into Taylor as the rest of the table stands to get food.
“It’s ok, I can get it.”
“I know you can, but I want you to take it easy. It’s been a long day and this is probably more activity than you normally have on a Friday. Let me take care of you, sweetheart.”
“Ok, thank you.” Her eyes soften as she stares up at me. I’d pay good money to know what’s going through her head right now.
Instead of asking, I rise and join the line of people to grab a plate and pick out what I want to eat for lunch. I don’t bother asking Taylor what she wants because I already know. She’d never admit it, but I know her almost as well as she knows herself.
I know she’ll eat the ziti, but not the lasagna. She says lasagna has too much ricotta in it, which is crazy. There’s no such thing as too much ricotta. She’ll want two meatballs and as many rolls as I can stuff onto her plate.
