The Wrong Heart

The Wrong Heart

Author: Jennifer Hartmann Listening Length: 13h 29m

When my husband died, he left my broken heart behind. He left another heart behind, too—his. I know its wrong. I shouldnt be contacting the recipient of my husbands heart. I dont even expect him to reply But theres a desperate, twisted part of me that hopes he will. No names. No personal details. Just a conversation. ...

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—SEVENTEEN—

Bree barrels through my foyer later that week with a box of doughnuts, interrupting my afternoon nap on the couch with Walden, who is curled up in a ball near my feet. I’m pretty sure it’s the first time he’s ever actually made the effort to hop up here with me.

The backside of my arm is draped over my forehead as I grumble a hello to my sister, peering over at her with only one eye open. This is the first day off I’ve had in months, so I kind of just want to go back to sleep.

“Oh, my God… look at your dog, Parker.”

Bree’s chipper voice has me blinking both eyes open as I pull myself halfway up by the arms. I glance at the black and white furball at the end of the couch, all withered and bony, with dark moles and skin tags casing his skin. “He looks old as fuck,” I mumble, then scrub a palm down my face.