Page 128 of When Hearts Remember

I shake my head. “No. Leave this space next to me.”

Closing my eyes, I imagine her scent of sweet lavender, the softness of her hair. How her head reaches my shoulders. My hands twitch and I stretch out my arm, imagining an alternate reality.

She’d smile at me, triumph glinting in her eyes. She’d whisper, “I told you so, Keeper. Because if you believe it…”

“Who’s to say it isn’t true?” I whisper to no one.

This.This is how I’d hold her if she were here with me.

But all I can feel is air.

The burn intensifies behind my eyes, and I blink a few times before letting my arm drop to my side.

I strain a smile, and the assistant snaps a picture. He’ll have someone deliver it to my office later.

This way, my Nova is always with me. Standing next to me as I complete each bucket list item on her behalf.

A tear escapes my eye and I quickly wipe it away as I make my way out of the hotel.

Twenty minutes later, I’m walking down the halls of Manhattan Memorial. The nurses smile—sympathy in their gazes. They know who I’m here for.

They know the statistics and the odds.

They probably think I’m insane for coming here week after week, wishing for a different outcome.

An impossible outcome.

The same steady beeping of machines greets me when I enter her room. The same sterile smells and unsettling humming of the air conditioning.

There she is, my sleeping beauty.

My lungs constrict as I set the journal on her nightstand and take a seat at her bedside. I smooth out her sunset hair, which used to be thick and luscious, but is now dull—a jewel that has lost its luster.

She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

I lace my fingers with hers. Lifting them up, I press a kiss on the back of her hand.

“I once told you it was impossible to find sunken treasure, and you told me I had no faith,” I murmur, my voice thick.

“But look,” I pull out the coin from my pocket and press it into her palm, “you were right.Nothingis impossible, Nova.”

Tears slide down my face, and this time, I don’t stop them. “Didn’t you used to tell me, ‘if I believe it, who’s to say it isn’t true?’”

I let out a ragged breath and press my forehead against her chest, listening to the steady beats of her heart.

“The impossible is possible, Nova. We found a piece of sunken treasure. C-Can you please wake up? Please?”

A fresh wave of grief stabs my heart—an organ that has never stopped bleeding ever since that rainy night four years ago.

It’s a miracle I’m still alive.

It’s not fair.

It’s not fair.

It’s not fair.

“Life isn’t fair,”imaginary Lexy whispers.“But we make the best of it, right? We don’t wait to live, because the clock keeps ticking.”

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