Page 393 of Not Over You

She… no, she couldn’t think she could fuck her way out of giving him the answers that were long overdue?

Before he could stop her, she’d undone four buttons and, separating the two pieces of material, bared her chest. It took a few seconds to register the bumpy silver scar that started a few inches above her cleavage and disappeared between her breasts. His jaw dropped as he stared, his brain scrambling to fit the parts together. He was missing an important part of the puzzle, one that Lori held.

“I broke your heart, Zane, not because I met someone else, but because mine broke first.”

“I-I…” He floundered, reeling, his mind spinning in ever-decreasing circles, and still he came up empty. “I’m not following.”

With jerky movements, she refastened her shirt. “A few months after we moved to India, I began to feel sick. Fatigue, occasional dizzy spells, just… not right. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Eventually, Mom took me to a doctor, and they carried out some tests.” She licked her lips. “My heart was failing. The only way I’d survive is if they found a donor heart to match mine. When they told me the odds—and trust me when I say they weren’t great—I knew what I had to do.”

The truth slammed into him at the pace a pitcher tossed a baseball. “No.” He shook his head. “No, Lori.”

“Yes. I knew you so well. I knew exactly what you’d do, and I… I couldn’t let you. I refused to ruin your life so you could sit by my bedside and watch me waste away.”

“But…” He frowned, staring at where her hand still held his, and a fresh torrent of anger rose within him, a blistering heat that saw him wrench his hand from hers and launch to his feet.

“That wasn’t your decision to make, Lori! Fuck!”

He paced across her living room, pivoting at the window, only to repeat his furious marching all over again. Emotions rampaged through him, his brain zipping along in double time. Lori remained silent as he stomped back and forth, combing his hands through his hair and tugging on the collar of his shirt as if it had the power to choke him. After a few minutes where he let his anger run free, he ran out of steam, and his legs buckled. He slumped onto the couch, spent.

“I did what I thought was right at the time,” she whispered.

“Well, you were wrong. So fucking wrong. How dare you cut me out of your life at the exact time you needed me the most? Jesus, Lori, didn’t my declarations of love and commitment to you through thick and thin mean anything? You were my fucking soul mate. My soul mate! And you didn’t want me with you, comforting you through the worst time of your life.”

“I’d rather you’d hated me than mourned me. That’s why I did what I did. Better you think I cheated than the alternative.”

His jaw dropped. “Are you insane? Jesus Christ, Lori. You think I didn’t mourn you? From the time you sent that message, I fucking mourned you every single day. Oh, I was bombarded with sage advice of how I was so young, and adolescent love, while powerful, would soon fade. Well, it fucking didn’t, Lori. It didn’t. I used to pray that you were happy, living your best life, and all the while you were lying in a hospital bed dying. Without me there to support you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Zane. I thought I was doing the right thing. Really, I did. Mom and Dad didn’t agree, but I swore them to secrecy. And as I was dying, they could hardly say no.” Tears clung to her lashes, spilling one by one. She let them fall, and they splashed onto her jeans, leaving dark circles on the fabric.

His chest ached. He hated it when she cried. Hated it. “Christ, come here.”

He held out his arms, and she scrambled to tuck herself into his embrace. He dug a tissue out of his pocket and handed it to her. She gave him a wan smile.

“Nothing changes.”

“Except everything has.”

“Yes.”

One word that spoke volumes. He lost track of how long they sat there in muted silence. His anger wilted, extinguished by her sadness, the smell of salty tears, and her trembling frame as she lay with her head on his chest, her slim fingers curled into his shirt.

“How long before they found you a heart?”

“Six months after diagnosis. By then, I couldn’t walk more than a few feet without gasping for breath. As soon as I came around after the operation, the change in me was staggering. Color flooded back into my face, and this incredible energy surged through me. I felt as if I could conquer the world. But I also suffered terrible depression, knowing that for me to live, someone had to die.”

“But they died having left a wonderful gift, Lori. The greatest gift anyone can give to another human being.”

“I know. It didn’t stop the depression, making it hard to get out of bed some days. But I got through it.”

“And even then you didn’t call me.” He flinched, the reality of her cutting him out of her life digging deep, gouging out important pieces of him and stomping all over them.

“It was too late, Zane.”

“No.” He nudged her chin up until she met his gaze. “It wouldn’t ever have been too late. Haven’t I proved that?”

“Maybe… oh, I don’t know. Maybe I just didn’t know how to haul myself out of a hole I’d dug. And besides, this isn’t the end for me. You need to know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I don’t care.”

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