Fearless

Chapter Five

He’d given me his heart a long time ago—and now I was giving it back, not because I didn’t want it. But because I wanted to share it. With him. Forever.—Kiersten

Kiersten

When Lisa drove me up to the hospital, my first thought was something had happened to Wes. Funny, how you think you can be totally over something. And then one tiny little thing happens and immediately you’re back to that place. I wondered if PTSD was like that.

You live your life every day, going through the motions, and then BOOM! Something suddenly happens to throw you off kilter and the only thing you want to do is go sit in a corner and rock back and forth.

When she parked and didn’t start crying or saying that we were there because the man I loved was dying—again. I lost it.

Too close to home.

I wanted to leave.

Actually, I wanted to smack Wes and then I wanted to leave. How dare he scare me like that!

“Hey!” Lisa grabbed my hand. “You need to do this.”

“I don’t want to.” I knew I sounded like a whiny child, and Wes had probably gone to a lot of trouble to use the little chapel at the hospital. But I didn’t…I couldn’t. My throat felt thick as I tried to swallow.

I hadn’t had a panic attack in a really long time.

But being back in that hospital, even in the parking garage, was doing some serious damage to my nervous system.

I didn’t want to stay and fight. I wanted to run away. I wanted to run in the opposite direction of the memories of Wes lying in that hospital bed. Of the look on his face when he said goodbye. My breath hitched in my chest as my stomach clenched with fear.

Of the tears in his eyes when he wasn’t sure if it was going to be for a few hours—or forever.

I sniffled.

Lisa handed me a tissue and started slowly rubbing my back. “Talk to me, Kiersten.”

“It feels like yesterday,” I whispered. “I’m terrified that when I walk in that door, he’s going to be back in that hospital bed, or worse, something’s going to happen. I just—I know it’s not logical but I don’t feel very logical right now.”

“It’s your wedding day.” Lisa shrugged. “Who says you have to be logical?”

I smiled through my tears.

“If it makes you feel better.” She continued rubbing my back, totally something my mom would have done. I loved that girl, I would seriously die for Lisa, and I think she knew that. “I haven’t gone back either.”

“To the hospital?”

“No.” She stopped rubbing for a minute. “Home. I haven’t faced my demons at all. It doesn’t make it easier you know.”

“Are you sure?” My lips trembled as a few tears ran over them.

“Positive.” Lisa handed me another tissue. “Just because you avoid something, doesn’t make it disappear. I think we’d like to imagine life works that way. But I’m sure if I went back home…everything would be just how I left it and I’d be bombarded with the same memories, the same regrets, the giant never really dies Kiersten, not until you throw the damn rock.”

“Nice metaphor. Hanging out with Wes too much I see.”

Lisa snorted. “Swear his philosophies just rub off on everyone in his path.”

I twisted the tissue between my hands. “Your giants…what are they?”

A troubled expression clouded her eyes, and Lisa sighed. “They’re ugly.”

“Like the ones you see in movies?”

“Yeah, Kiersten, like the ones with giant warts and giant feet and…” She shuddered. “There’s a very good reason I came up to Seattle.” Her smile was forced. “Look at it this way. At least you have someone willing to fight alongside you. And he’s waiting inside.”

“What about you? Where’s your partner?”

Lisa was silent for a minute, then she reached for the handle to open the car door. “He no longer exists.”

She didn’t offer any more information, but the momentary distraction of her story was enough to get me out of the car and walking towards the elevator.

The smell of medicine burned my nostrils.

We rode the elevator up to the main floor, but when the doors should have opened it just kept going.

“Um?” I pointed at the buttons. “Did we miss our floor?”

“Nope.” Lisa looked straight ahead, a smile curving at her lips.

When the doors opened—it was to floor where they had performed Wes’s surgery. I’d remember it anywhere. The nurses’ station was decorated with so many flowers it was almost impossible to see their heads as they waved at me from the table.

A banner hung across the hallway. “Wes and Kiersten.” There were hearts on either side of our names.

Music started playing from somewhere. My legs had officially stopped working—so much that Lisa had to push me. I walked numbly towards the nurses station, as each of them stood directly in my path, holding a rose.

A song started to play over the loudspeaker or it sounded like it, the music was slow, eerie, gentle as it softly played in cadence with my footsteps as I neared the nurses.

Every nurse held out a single rose, and I accepted them from each in turn as I passed, still holding onto my sense of numbness. Lisa took the roses from me and placed them in a type of bouquet. I couldn’t make out the shape.

“We’re so proud of you guys.” One of the nurses who had been in the operating room pulled me in for a hug and kissed me on the cheek.

Okay, so Wes was seriously trying to make it so that I had no makeup by the time I saw him.

As I collected the last rose—I think around ten nurses total had each handed me one of the red flowers—I found myself at the end of the line.

The doctor that had performed the surgery stood waiting.

He was the one who had spent countless hours making sure the love of my life survived.

I hadn’t been back to the hospital.

I’d thanked him.

But I hadn’t really thanked him.

Without thinking, I threw myself against his chest and wound my arms around his neck. He went completely still for a minute and then returned my hug.

“Thank you…” I whispered, warm tears streaming down my cheeks. “Thank you for saving his life.”

The doctor gently pried me away and handed me five red roses and whispered, “I wish I could take credit.” His eyes blurred with tears. “But some hearts—don’t need help to keep beating.”

He stepped out of the way, and Lisa handed me my bouquet. It was all the roses, arranged together in the shape of a heart.

Wes’s heart.

In the palm of my hands. Where it had been all along.

We walked up to the room where Wes’s surgery had taken place.

When the door opened, Wes was staring straight at me. His smile wide—he looked gorgeous in his black suit.

He held out his hands and whispered, “Where we thought we may see the end—”

“—we write ‘The Beginning’.” I finished.