Page 47 of His Heart

“Sort of,” I said. “We moved a lot. Texas, New Mexico, Oklahoma. California for a while. And here.”

“Wow,” he said. “My parents still live in the same house they bought before I was born. Small town Iowa.”

“It must be nice to have a home to go back to,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said, but there was a hint of sadness in his voice. “A lot of memories there.”

“I guess that’s not always good,” I said.

He shrugged. “Most of the memories are good ones. Enough of them, at least. Kind of thought I was going to die in that house, though. Seems different now.”

I realized my eyes had settled on his chest. The top of a scar was barely visible right at the neckline of his shirt. I tore my eyes away, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I said.

“Thanks, but I’m sorry,” he said. “For your loss.”

I didn’t want to talk about Liam. Not with this guy. But I did want to know about him. “Can I ask what happened to you? Were you born with a bad heart or something?”

“No,” he said. “I was always healthy before I got sick.”

The waitress brought my coffee, but it sat untouched as he told his story. It sounded awful. The shock of almost dying at such a young age. All the tests, the worry. Getting worse no matter what the doctors tried. The ache in my chest throbbed when he talked about what it had been like just before he’d learned there was a heart for him. How he’d wanted to give up.

I knew what that felt like.

I thought about where I must have been when he first got sick. He’d been a senior when I was a junior, and he’d said it had been in February. His heart had given out around the time Liam had asked me to the Valentine’s Day dance.

That silly, sad teenage girl with her journals and streaks in her hair. She seemed like a different person. Her life had been messy, but what would that girl think of me now?

She’d be horrified.

“Sorry, that was probably more than you wanted to hear,” Sebastian said.

“No, it’s fine,” I said. “I’m glad your life is better now.”

I knew my words sounded hollow, but there were too many thoughts pinging through my brain. Too many feelings beating against the door where I kept them locked away.

“What about your life?” he asked.

“My life is fine,” I said.

He narrowed his eyes and I knew he could tell I was lying. But he didn’t press the issue.

“Oh, I had a question,” he said. “It’s about Liam, if that’s okay. I meant to ask the Harpers, but I forgot.”

“What?”

“Did he like peach iced tea?”

I gaped at him. How could he know that? “Yeah, it was his favorite.”

He shook his head. “That’s so weird.”

“Why?”

“Well, they say it’s a myth that when someone receives a transplant they take on some of the likes or dislikes of the donor. I asked the doctors about it, and they said there’s no real evidence that it happens. But I swear to you, before four years ago, I wouldn’t have touched peach iced tea. Now I get the weirdest cravings for it.”

I didn’t know why it was talking about peach iced tea that did it, but I couldn’t take any more. This man’s presence was too much. He was too big, too overwhelming. The ache in my chest was going to rip me open, letting my emotions spill out onto the floor. I couldn’t let that happen.

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