Estranged Heart

Thirty-two

Elijah

My clothes are set at the end of the bed and the nurse turns off the beeping machine. Reaching for my hand, she presses a piece of gauze over the IV and pulls it free from my skin. A piece of tape holds the gauze in place and her gaze meets mine, lips shifting up into a gentile smile. “You’re almost ready to go. I’ll give you some privacy to change and be back with those discharge papers soon. Remember when you’re at home, to change those bandages when needed.”

“Will do. Thanks for everything.”

“No problem, hun.”

On her way out, she greets someone, and I don’t have to turn around to know who the other voice is.

“Look who’s finally getting to go home after four days of horrible hospital food and constantly having his sleep interrupted.”

“Look who’s actually on time,” I quip back, turning my head to see Jessa’s smile.

“They say there’s a first time for everything.” She chuckles, resting a hand on my shoulder. “How you doing, champ?”

“Good. Silas?”

Her lips press in a thin line and she pulls her hand back. “I did what you asked and contacted his mom. She said he’s doing better every day. She also said she was sorry about everything, and she really hopes you believe he had nothing to do with any of it.”

My chest tightens. “So he knows that his wife is . . .”

“Yeah. The detective went to his room yesterday morning. He’s taking the news hard as anyone would, and his mom said he won’t really talk to her about it.”

“I’m glad he’s okay and I don’t blame him. I know it was all her doing.” I stare off into the distance, bunching the sheets between my fingers.

“You should tell him that yourself. He’s still here, and will be for a few more days for observation,” she says, walking around the bed to meet my eyes again.

“I don’t know if I can right now.” But I want to. Damn, I want to. The need to see him has intensified the longer I’ve stayed here, knowing he was so close by.

“I can’t even imagine how hard it was finding all this out. You know I’m behind whatever you decide to do. None of this is easy.”

I huff out a laugh. “It involves Landon so of course not.”

Her brows lower and she gives me a half smile. “It is strange how he can manage to still keep you on your toes, even in death.”

“Yeah.” I laugh, tracing over the tan lines where my wedding band once was. “He was always good at that. One of the many things he and Silas have in common.”

“You think . . . your feelings for him were because of Landon?”

I swallow hard, tugging on my finger as if the ring is still there. “No. I mean, I did at first. But after a while I realized I fell for him because he’s what I needed at the time.”

“And now?” She lowers herself onto the bed next to me, placing her hand on mine.

“I don’t know. I think it grew into more than that over time. I liked who I was when he was around. I remembered how to live and smile. These last few days, I’ve felt like I was back where I was before I met him. Lost and unsure of everything.”

“You think it’s because of him, or everything else that’s happened?” Her expression turns more serious.

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure where this leaves us. Acquaintances? Friends? Back to strangers?”

“What were you before you knew the truth?”

“None of those things. Something more.” My heart squeezes. “So much more.”

She frowns, her eyes turning down. “I think the only way you can figure this out is if you talk to him. Go see him and go from there. You don’t have to figure out anything today.”

“Yeah . . . I guess you’re right.”

She squeezes my hand, waggling her brows. “I usually am.”

“Get dressed and I’ll go get me a coffee downstairs. Might get me some of that cake I spotted when I passed the cafeteria trying to find your room.”

“Thanks, Jessa. I won’t be long.”

“Take your time.” She quickly gets to her feet. “I’m never in any rush to get home to the chaos waiting for me.”

I chuckle, leaning over the bed to grab my clothes. “I’ll text you when I’m done.”

“Sounds good. You might wanna brush that hair of yours too,” she teases on her way out of the room.

I wave her off, feeling lighter than before. I’m glad I called her. Having a friend around definitely beats getting through all this alone. It makes me realize how much of my world revolved around my husband. I shut so many people out, assuming I had all I needed with him. Then he was gone and I was all alone. Was I doing the same with Silas? Relying heavily on him to make everything easier? I think we were both guilty of using each other in that way. We clung to what felt good, but is there really anything wrong with that?

The word wrong doesn’t belong anywhere near his name. Not then and not now. He’s still my good, and my heart is elated at the thought of seeing him. I’m lighting up on the inside, my pulse unable to settle until we’re in the same room again and I see those large ocean eyes staring back at me.

Quickly dressing, I brush my hair and splash water on my face, though the tiredness doesn’t fade from my eyes and bags remain underneath. Sleeping hasn’t been easy these last few days. Not only because of all the tests and vitals being taken in the middle of the night, but because Silas has weighed heavy on my mind, along with whether Detective Samuels will find the rest of the people Stacey was working for.

Hank was caught arguing with a clerk at a Quick Trip and didn’t try to run away when the cops showed up—almost as if he preferred to be arrested over what was waiting for him back home. In my opinion, prison was too good for him. Death was too, no matter how brutal. I’m only thankful he was caught before delivering the unconscious teenage boy in the trunk of his car. I shudder, thinking about all the people who didn’t have a chance at getting away. People like Landon.

A knock at the door has me stepping out of the bathroom. The nurse from before is back, setting papers on the bed. “You’re all free to go, Mr. Pena. You need help getting downstairs?”

“No.” I take two steps forward, shifting my lips from side to side. “I’m actually going to visit a friend on another floor before going home.”

“Okay. Hope they get to go home soon too. Take care, hun.”

“You too.” I wait five minutes after she leaves to gather all my belongings in a bag and head to the elevator. I think about what I’ll say as I’m walking to Silas’s room, all for my mind to draw a blank when I’m finally standing in front of his door. I freeze when it pulls open and his mom steps out. Her eyes widen in surprise when she sees me, and my shoulders relax at the easygoing smile she was wearing when I was last at her house.

“Elijah.” She embraces me in a gentle hug. “He’s going to be so happy to see you.” She pulls back, her smile wavering a little. “How are you?”

“Good. Much better than when I first arrived here.” I smile, trying to keep the light mood going.

“I’m happy to hear that. He’s asked for you every time he’s woken up. I think he forgets he does it.”

“I haven’t been able to leave my room much before today but thought I’d stop by before heading home.”

“I’m really glad you did.” Her expression is neutral now. “Well, I have to stop by the house to get some of Silas’s things. It was good seeing you again.”

“You too.” I smile, squeezing past her and stopping again when I see Silas lying in bed, looking towards the window. He doesn’t move when I walk closer and the door shuts behind me, the light strands in his hair catching in what's left of the sun, reminding me of honey.

“Looks like a nice day out,” I say, nudging my head forward, focusing on the rain spitting against the glass.

His head slowly moves, his eyes widening when they land on me. “It’s storming out,” he whispers.

“Yeah. The perfect weather for dancing.” My lips turn up a little, the bottom one shaking as I reach the bed.

A muscle tics in his throat as he stares back out the window. “I doubt anyone else feels that way.”

“But you’d agree, wouldn’t you?”

The light shines in his eyes a little when he turns his head again. “Yeah. Anything happening outside this room and bed sounds perfect to me.”

“How about we go for a stroll? You’re allowed to do that now, right?” My gaze bounces between him and the wheelchair in the corner of his room.

He nods slowly, fumbling with the blanket in his lap. “Yeah. My mom said she’d take me to the cafeteria when she got back.”

“How about we go now instead?”

His chest rises and falls heavily. “Yeah, okay.”

I help him into the chair, neither of us saying a word. We don’t talk as I’m pushing him past the nurses’ station either. Waving us off after we let them know we’ll be back in an hour, the nurses seem happy to see him leaving his room and my heart hurts at that. How long has he been locked up in there? Is this his way of punishing himself? Does he no longer feel like he deserves to go out in the rain, and loathe getting wet like everyone else does?

I push him forward, looking around as we head for the elevator. As nice as it was to share a short, random conversation with him again, the silence is welcome too. I forget why I considered going home without seeing him first. Any scenario which doesn’t end in me being here, sharing the same air, no longer makes sense to me.

“Are you not going to ask me again?” he says as we stroll down the long hallway leading to the cafeteria.

“Ask you what?” I look down at him, missing those bright eyes shining into mine. He can’t fully meet my gaze and I hate it.

“About Stacey and what she did. If I knew. If . . .” His voice shakes. “I was a part of it all.”

“No.” My hands stiffen on the handles, heart thumping. “We don’t have to talk about any of that at all today. I think we could both use a break, don’t you? A little good to go with the bad?” I point to the chocolate cake next to all the drinks.

“Yeah.” I can hear the almost smile in his voice and the tension leaves my body, allowing me to step forward again.

“You can have cake, right?” I ask, while grabbing it from one of the shelves.

“A little. Maybe only a few bites. My mom snuck me a cookie earlier.”

I laugh, not missing his expression softening and shoulders relaxing. “I’ll make sure to eat more of it then. Chocolate okay?”

“Yeah. I’m not really a vanilla fan.” His nose wrinkles and I laugh again. Typical Silas, showing all his true feelings on the surface. Never holding back. I nearly forgot how refreshing he could be. All his quirks and straightforward answers.

I place the cake in his lap after paying, and grab the forks on our way to a table near a window. Moving a chair out of the way, I wheel him in its place, and he places his hand on the cold glass as if trying to touch the water on the other side.

Lowering myself into the chair next to him, I open the plastic lid and stick both forks in the cake. Silas reaches for his, taking his time picking up the smallest piece and bringing it to his lips. He moans around the fork and goes back for more, his sounds louder the second time around.

I miss those sounds, along with the pretty blush on his cheeks when he realizes he’s making them loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Sorry. I haven’t eaten much aside from Jell-O and popsicles since being here. They cleared me to eat regular foods yesterday but nothing they made me looked appetizing.”

“It’s hospital food. It tastes as good as it looks.” I chuckle and dig my fork into the cake, shoveling a larger bite into my mouth. Crumbs go everywhere and he laughs, swiping them away. The touch of his fingers leaves behind sparks of electricity. I almost lean forward to experience more.

When he realizes what he’s doing, he yanks his hand back, and I wrap my fingers around his wrist. Bringing his hand back to my lips, I press a kiss to his tips and his eyes flutter closed, his breath quickening.

Why did I try to stay away? Why would I want to when right now feels so fucking perfect. When he feels like everything in the whole world. It’s not that I can’t stand on my own, but more that I don’t want to when I can dance in the rain with him instead.

“Elijah.” He traces the seam of my lips, releasing a shuddered breath when I slide my hand down his arm, familiarizing myself with his skin.

“Yeah?” I answer, sounding breathless, needing to be closer, wanting to feel him say my name against my lips again. I no longer care what it means to want this man, because I want him too badly for anything else to matter. Yes he has my husband’s heart, and yes I hate how we were brought together, but we were brought together nonetheless. We’ll keep being brought together too, and I don’t want to fight the pull when the pain is greater when I do.

“Will you dance with me?”

“Here?” I run my fingers up and down the pulse point on his wrist.

He shakes his head, sucking air between his teeth. “Out there.” He faces the window and I let go of his arm, nodding.

“Yes.” Yes is the only word I want to use if it means being with him longer, remaining in a moment where we’re both free of all our burdens and pain. We have none of that with each other. All I feel right now is peace and comfort. He’s so much more than a distraction—he’s my home, and the only two men I’ve ever loved wrapped up in one.

As it turns out, I can be happy he’s alive and still hate Landon being gone. The truth is, they both deserved to live, and the only way Landon can now is through the person he saved. I have to hold onto the positive to keep the horror of the situation from eating me alive. And Silas is definitely not a bad thing to hold onto.

I close the cake box and tuck it in the pocket on the back of the chair, rolling him closer to the tapping sounds. I don’t stop walking until we’re standing outside and getting soaked in the rain.

When I offer my hand he laces his fingers in mine, and I slowly pull him to his feet. We stand still for a long time with our arms wrapped around one another before swaying back and forth. His steady breaths heat my skin as he buries his face in my neck. The wetness from the rain mixes with the warm tears from his eyes.

With my chest caving, I lift his face up and stroke his cheek. We stare at each other for a long time, a pain of silence stretching between us. His eyes are heavy. Stepping back, he takes deeper breaths, placing his hand on mine and kissing my fingertips the same way I did his when we were in the cafeteria. A deep pain spreads through my chest, temporarily paralyzing me when I realize what this is. He’s saying goodbye.

“No,” I scream without meaning to, holding him in place when he tries to pull away more. “No,” I say again, my throat closing up from being flooded with emotion. “Stay here with me.” I don’t just mean outside or in the rain either.

“I’m sorry. I can’t. I want to but I can’t. I’ll never know the real reason you keep coming back. Is it because of me or him?” His eyes shrink.

“Can’t it be both?” I loop my fingers around his chin, my eyes doing the begging my words can’t.

“I . . . It should be him here with you, not me. What if you look at me one day and resent me for not being more than I am? Not being enough?” His lips shake and he starts to shiver, wrapping his arms around himself.

“That will never happen.”

“Me sharing similarities with him is what brought you closer to me, isn’t it? You feel him inside me?”

“Yes, but it’s not why I stayed. It’s not why I want to stay,” I say with conviction.

“You can’t know that for sure. I can’t handle not being enough for the person I’m with again. Not after everything.” All the hurt in his eyes was palpable, causing my heart to crack. I understand what he’s saying and I don’t want him going through that again either, not when he deserves to have someone want him for exactly who he is. Is he right? Can I really not offer him what he needs?

He looks down at his feet and takes my hands in his, sniffling softly. “I think you need to properly grieve, and I need to know what it’s like to be my own strength. We can’t keep pushing everything to the side because it feels too hard to face. It’ll only make things harder in the long run when we can no longer distract each other from it.”

Is he right? I don’t want to question him long enough to discover the answer. I want him to be wrong. I want there to be another way. But I’m being selfish, aren’t I? For trying to make him be ready for something he isn’t, not knowing if I’m even ready myself.

I did cling to so many of Landon’s belongings, needing to feel him in all our rooms at home, in my car, and at work. Am I doing the same with his heart?

The sadness in his eyes grows heavier, wrecking me into the ground. Like broken rubble, I can’t piece myself back together to become whole again, not when what he’s saying is making more sense the longer his words play in my head.

We both have so much healing to do. I don’t want to walk away, but I’m worried if I keep forcing myself to stay, I’ll destroy what we have beyond return. If we part now, we still have a chance to find our way back if we’re meant to, and everything in the fiber of my being says we are. Not because I need to forget anything, or because of Landon’s heart, but because of the magic we can only create together.

I press a kiss to his temple. “Thanks for dancing with me today. I’m glad I stuck around for it.”

Lifting himself on his tiptoes, he presses his forehead to mine. “Me too. Maybe we’ll actually run into each other by accident someday.”

“Maybe.” I bite my tongue to stop myself from saying what I want to say. I hope you find me again when you’re ready and I’m more sure of everything I feel. Whatever lured him to all the places I was before, I want it to bring him back and keep him here, leaving no room for more goodbyes.

His lips press to mine and he lowers himself back into his chair. Once inside and out of the rain, his hand falls on mine and he presses his feet to the ground, stopping me from pushing him forward.

“You should go home and get dry before you catch one of those colds you once warned me about.” He forces a smile, lips shaking at the corners. They threaten to break along with my heart.

“I should help get you to your room first.”

“I can manage myself.”

I release the handles, hating the loss of his hand when he moves it off mine to grab one of the wheels.

“Yeah, you can.”

“Bye, Elijah.”

“Bye, Silas.”

He moves himself forward when the elevator doors part, looking back at me as they close. His face disappears behind the metal and my whole body feels too heavy to move. I stand here for too long, trying to remember who and what I’m supposed to be grieving. I shouldn’t be mourning two people, yet my heart tries to convince me otherwise when his last words to me replay loudly in my head.

“Bye, Elijah.”

And just like that, he slips away from me, and it feels more final than I thought it would.