A Heart of Time (26 page)

“Then how can you say you love me?” I ask.

“When time is borrowed, you live fast, you love hard, and you put everything on the line knowing that tomorrow you might wake up with nothing— or you might not wake up at all.”

“I see,” I say, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Ari. Thank you for caring for her heart, protecting it, and for treating it like it was a gift. Your letters kept me going through those years—like really kept me going, knowing how lucky Ellie’s heart was.”

“Boy, it sounds like you’re saying goodbye,” she says, taking my hand and curling her fingers around mine while her gaze burns into me. “I don’t care how long you stand here. I’m not dying in front of you.” We both laugh and she releases my hand. “Go on so I can die in peace.”

My jaw aches from grinding my teeth so hard, trying to prevent any hint of emotion. I have to be strong for her, at least as strong as she’s being while saying goodbye to me. “Ari—”

“Say it, Hunter,” she says, her voice a little weaker this time.

I pull in a thick, shallow, gulp of air and allow the words to float from my mouth into what seems like oblivion. “Goodbye, Ari.”

I listen to the struggle of her breath as she presses her head firmly into her pillow, gently closing her eyes. I remain standing beside her bed, watching her, intently, waiting for I’m not sure what.

“I’m still not going to die in front of you,” she whispers through slightly parted lips.

I close my eyes, releasing my weighted breath as I let go of her hand. Flashing a quick wave that she doesn’t see, I turn and exit the room. Knowing I’m never going to see her again isn’t easy to comprehend or wrap my head around. A heart-stopping period has been placed at the end of this chapter of my life.

CHAPTER TWENTY

- JANUARY -

I only met
Ari’s parents a handful of times. At first, they were warm and welcoming but after receiving the news of her failing heart, they both changed. It was as if a dark cloud descended on them. Smiles were nowhere to be seen, their eyes were covered in thin, red veins, and dark bags lined the creases above their cheeks—the evidence of many tears shed. I saw the look before, right after Ellie died. Ellie’s parents never looked the same again. Life as they knew it was stolen from them and there was no way to fix it.

With my heart in my throat, I stand toward the back of the enclosed circle, admiring the strength within everyone. Ari’s parents are holding hands so tightly the blood is pooling in their fingers. Her mother’s eyes are glossed with tears but her chin is held high. Their chests both move in unison—in and out—slowly, suppressing their pain.

Charlotte’s hand sweeps up the side of my back as her fingernails draw small circles to soothe what I’m feeling inside.

As the ceremony comes to an end, soft voices grow into sympathetic apologies and well wishes for Ari’s parents. At the same time, Charlotte’s nails dig a little deeper into my skin when I hear her whisper, “Oh my God.”

I turn to face her, finding a ghostly paleness washing over her cheeks. “What’s the matter?”

“Don.” She points toward Ari’s parents. “That’s him.” We can’t hear the conversation between them but Don has his hand pressed against his chest, and his stature is tall and strong as if he’s holding in more air than his lungs are capable of carrying. I’ve never met the man, nor seen a picture but he’s a good-looking guy—sharp, well put together. What else would I expect from someone who used to be married to Charlotte? His suit looks like it might have cost more than one of my mortgage payments and by the looks of it, someone shaved his face for him this morning. Regardless of the outer layer, there is something to be said for the despondent look in his eyes.

With his hand on Ari’s mom’s shoulder, Don’s focus transfers from them to Charlotte, and his face registers shock. He definitely wasn’t expecting to encounter her here today. When he sees her, he immediately excuses himself from the conversation he was in and makes his way over toward us. I expect Charlotte to remove her hand from my back and separate herself from me, but instead she loops her arm around mine, squeezing it tightly, as if she suddenly needs me to protect her. Charlotte has never been a woman who seems to need protection. She’s dominant, fierce, and knows what she wants. I know she has a soft center but at this moment, her outer shell is just as weak. I’m glad to be the one whose arm she clings to in her moment of weakness.

“Charlotte,” Don addresses her. “What are you doing here? Did you know Ariella?”

Charlotte looks blankly at him as if she doesn’t know how to respond appropriately. “I—ah.”

“Charlotte is with me, and Ari was the recipient of my wife’s heart,” I say sharply.

Don places his hand over his agape mouth, his large, gold ring flashing a plate of diamonds in our face. “My God,” he says. “Eleanor Cole.”

Hearing her name come from his mouth makes my gut hurt. The only people who referred to Ellie as Eleanor were the doctors. Even Ellie’s parents didn’t call her that. It was a name only used in life-threatening matters, during the car accident and then the day she passed. “Yes, that’s my wife.”

He looks between Charlotte and me, apparently trying to understand it all. “Small world, huh?” he asks, obviously flustered by the situation.

“Very,” I say coldly, unwilling to ease his discomfort.

“I take it you have the answers you were desperate for?” he asks Charlotte.

“I know
everything
,” Charlotte tells him. “You’re a piece of shit, but I’m still grateful you gave Ari a few extra years.”

Don looks down, outwardly ashamed. He digs the sole of his freshly shined wing tip shoe into a small pile of dirt. “I’m sorry I caused you to lose the house, Charlotte. I was—”
That’s all you’re sorry for?

“There’s no explanation necessary,” she says, cutting him off. For the moments of weakness she portrayed as he was walking over here, I’m impressed and proud of the way she’s handling herself.

“I was in too deep and I was afraid of getting caught. I’m no longer conducting business in that way. I’ve acquired a job with a transplant research firm so you and Lana will be taken care of from here on out.”

“Just worry about Lana,” I bark. “She talks about you daily and misses you more than you clearly deserve. Charlotte, I can take care of.” The words about Lana are lies. I don’t want him anywhere near Lana, but I won’t get between a father and his daughter. I will just fill those holes in Lana’s life. I will be there for her and do whatever I can to make sure she never feels like she’s missing something.

Don places a hand on my shoulder, and the cologne from his skin burns the inside of my nose. “Thank you for looking after Lana, and Charlotte is clearly lucky to have you.” He sounds strangled, as if the truth is wrapped around his lungs, suffocating him. Everything about him—his voice, his words, and his demeanor—suggest he’s realized what he lost and is smart enough to know it’s too late to get it back. Nevertheless, I have no sympathy for him; in fact, he still makes me sick.

“Despite the fact that I think you’re a poor excuse for a human being, thank you for saving Ari and fulfilling Ellie’s wish,” I say, the boldness of my honesty surprising even myself.

He pulls in a sharp sigh. “I’m aware that Ellie wanted her request to remain private. She was a strong woman who knew exactly what she wanted. Very convincing—blackmailing, actually. It was hard to deny a gesture such as hers, and Ari had been my patient for years—a patient I spent half of my career trying to help.” Help? Is that what he’s convinced himself of? Help is an action that doesn’t require inappropriate behavior as gratitude.

“Ellie had a way with people,” I say, unintentionally snarling at him.

With an increased look of discomfort Don’s eyes, he shifts his weight and sucks in a shallow breath. “Well, take care of yourself, Charlotte,” he says, closing the conversation. “Maybe we can discuss custody again at some point.” I can only imagine what is going through Charlotte’s mind right now. I’m not sure custody in any circumstance will be easy for her to agree to after Don made career choices that caused his own daughter to lose her home for months, never mind everything else flagged on his track-record.

“I need more time,” Charlotte says. The court will do whatever Charlotte wants, which makes this even harder on her.

“Understood. Tell Lana I miss her.” Don reaches out to shake my hand and I offer mine in return, only because I’m a decent human being. The non-decent part of me would like to knock his fake veneers out.
Douche.
“A pleasure to meet you and I’m sorry for your loss.”

As he walks away, I feel Charlotte’s chest exhale against my back as her cheek rests against my shoulder, obviously glad to have that conversation over. “I hate him,” she says. “Regardless of the fact that he saved Ari, I really hate him.”

“Considering the circumstances, I think that’s okay,” I tell her.

I reach into my suit-coat pocket and pull out the envelope Ari gave me a few months ago, telling me I could not open it until it was too late to thank her. I’ve kept it sitting on top of my bureau since that day, practically burning a hole through it with my eyes every time I glanced at it. I’ve held it up to the sun trying to read whatever is inside but she anticipated my move, covering the envelope’s contents with a blank piece of paper.

“Oh my gosh, I almost forgot about that,” Charlotte says.

My hands tremble as I separate the flap from the body of the envelope. I expect to see a typical typed note, similar to the ones Ari wrote to me for five years, but it isn’t like that. Puzzled by what I’m looking at, I unfold the papers, straightening them out to get a better look. With the sun so bright in the sky, though, there’s a glare over the center, but it’s instantly covered by a shadow. “Ari made this decision six years ago,” a voice says from over my shoulder. I turn, finding Ari’s dad standing behind me. “Go on, read what it says.”

I scan through the words over and over, trying my best to comprehend what I’m looking at. I guess I know what I’m looking at but how could this be? “I don’t understand,” I tell him.

“My wife and I owned the Hillview Gardens,” he says.

I shake my head, bewildered. “What? I—“

“It has been in the family for some time,” he continues.

“Did Ellie know?”

He laughs quietly. “Of course she knew. Ellie came to gardens daily, with and without you. I spoke to her many times over the years and she was the one who got Ari the student-teaching job. Ellie has been a blessing in our lives for as long as I can remember.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me this?”

“A good person is doing no good if their reasons are anything more than soul-filling. I’m sure you know that Ellie did things out of the kindness of her heart, never wanting anything in return.” That is my Ellie. It always has been. This shouldn’t be a surprise to me. “When I told Ellie about Ari’s condition and her dreams, wishes, and hopes, it was as if Ellie knew what her purpose in life was. Beyond the love she had for you, she wanted to leave her mark in this world. And boy, did she. In fact, we say a prayer for her each night before bed.”

I look back down at the papers, reading them once more. “Are you saying...?”

“The Hillview gardens are now in your name.” With shock, and more appreciation than I have ever had for anything, I pull him in for a hug, locking my fists tightly around him. Telling him this means the world to me would not do justice to how I truly feel. I had no idea that Ari’s family owned the gardens but it’s like my life was planned to go down this path...this unexpected path. I don’t understand life’s plans and the twisted roads accompanying it. I still don’t understand Robert Frost and his thought-provoking words but I do understand that while our hearts may dictate the time we spend on this earth, they also direct us down the path we are meant to take, whether it is the one less traveled or not.

My heart led me to Ellie. Her heart led her to Ari. Ari’s heart led Charlotte to me. Life is not one straight highway; sometimes it’s an offbeat path with no direction, no signs, no warnings, and often with no apparent reason. It is rarely traveled on because there is no conclusive outcome and no defined ending until a person arrives there.

Here I am, at the beginning of a new bend on this endless path I started down at age five when I met Ellie. I never considered a different direction, nor did I wonder where it might have led.

The peace I have sought from the moment Ellie died has found me here, today, with understanding of Ellie’s path that veered away from mine. Some day our roads will intersect again but until that day, I will continue walking blindly around new corners and into unchartered territory, unknowing of what lies ahead. I will allow life to unfold around each bend of the road.