This Old Heart of Mine

by A. J. Compton

  “She was. I remember her picture from that box in your apartment. The one of your wedding day,” I clarify when he frowns.

  “Ah.” I catch the flash of pain and regret.

  “So you pursued her?” I ask, pleased when Gabriel smiles again.

  “I did. She didn’t make it easy. But after a few months, my charm won her heart. We got married not long after graduation.”

  “That’s really sweet. So she was there from the very beginning of your career.”

  He shakes his head and stares down into his drink. “There would be no career without Charlotte.”

  Sensing he’s reached his limit, I squeeze his hand. “Thanks for sharing that with me.”

  He looks up and my throat constricts at his expression. “Thanks for asking. It’s easier to talk about her than I thought it would be. It’s nice.”

  “I’m glad. It’s nice to hear about her, too.” I hope he can see the truth in my eyes. Love and understanding pass between us like old friends. After a few minutes, Gabriel takes a sip of his now-cool coffee and changes the subject.

  “Well, I’m glad you had a good time. Travel is good for the soul.”

  “Thank you. It really is.” I circle my empty cup with my fingers, suddenly shy. “We, um, also went to Argentina on our way back here. It was a last minute decision, but I’m so glad we did.”

  His mouth falls open. “You went to Argentina? Why?”

  I shrug. “I wanted to see where you were from.”

  “And what did you think?”

  “I loved it. We stayed in Buenos Aires. Finn loved it almost as much as I did. We had such a great time.”

  “Ava, I can’t believe…” He closes his mouth, lost for words.

  “I can see why it inspired you to become a poet. Ireland was incredible, but it was in Argentina that I had the most time to think and just breathe.”

  “What did you think about?” he asks.

  “You, of course. Me. Us. Charlotte. Life.”

  “And what did you decide?”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  He hesitates, his eyes scanning my face. “But how much of you is here?”

  I understand what he’s asking. “All of me. Good and bad. Bits I was born with, and bits I wasn’t.”

  “Your heart is here, too? All of it?”

  “All of it. It finally feels like it belongs to me. Or at least, I’m now okay about the fact that it once belonged to someone else.”

  “You are?” I don’t blame his doubtful tone.

  “Yeah. One of the biggest things I realized was that I never fully belonged to me, even before the transplant. I’m made up of pieces of other people. I have my mom’s courage and her laugh. I have Finn’s sense of humor. And for better or worse, I have my father’s nose and coloring. So what’s one extra piece that doesn’t belong to me? I saw him, by the way.”

  Gabriel’s soft smile turns into a frown. “Saw who?”

  “My father. Sperm donor. Whatever.”

  “You saw him? Where?”

  “I went to see him. I know, I know.” I laugh at Gabriel’s shocked expression. “It was a moment of madness.”

  Gabriel shakes his head. “A moment of bravery. I’m proud of you, mariposa. What happened?”

  Warmth spreads through my chest at the familiar nickname. I hadn’t realized how much it meant to me. A part of me longs to hear the other name he gave me, the one he’s staying clear of, for understandable reasons.

  “I went to his office. He works not too far from the hospital where I essentially grew up, go figure. I didn’t make an appointment, but I gave the receptionist my name and asked to see him. I was expecting to wait, but he buzzed me up immediately.”

  “What was he like?”

  I take a moment to think about it. “Disappointing. It’s strange to be disappointed in someone you don’t know, but that’s the only way to describe how I felt. He was a coward who gave up because life got hard.”

  “Not to make excuses for him, but not everyone is strong, like you, Ava.”

  “I know, but his actions weren’t out of weakness, they were out of cowardice, and there’s a difference.” Gabriel nods in understanding.

  “He was so shocked to see me. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.” I giggle at the memory of his pale face and wide eyes. “He didn’t think I was still alive.”

  “That must have been quite a surprise.”

  “Oh, it was. He spent the first five minutes stammering.”

  “And then?”

  “And then, he apologized. For abandoning us, for not being there for me.”

  “Did it make a difference?”

  “Honestly? No. I realized as I was standing there, listening to his excuses, that I didn’t come there for him. I came there for me. But I already had the answers. I already had love, support, and strength. There was nothing he could give me.”

  “Sounds like you’ve had some important revelations.”

  “I have.”

  “Are you going to see him again?”

  “No. I don’t think so. I don’t bear him any bad feelings, but he’s a stranger to me. I’m happy to keep it that way. It’s time to focus on me and my life, instead of other people. I want to move forward, instead of back.” Now I’ve confronted the past, I can finally start focusing on my tomorrows. And on making them with Gabriel.

  His eyes travel across my face before landing on my lips. “God, I really want to kiss you right now.”

  I smile. “What are you waiting for?”

  “You, Ava. I was waiting for you.”

  His words heal the last bit of anxiety in my stomach. “Good, because I waited for you, too,” I tell him, watching him breathe out. “And I came back for you.”

  Gabriel pushes out of his seat and makes his way around the booth until he is sitting next to me. He cups my face and stares into my soul. “Are you going to leave again?”

  “Not by choice,” I whisper, licking my lips.

  “Good enough,” he says, before his mouth crashes down onto mine. Ambushed, I moan against Gabriel’s lips as his tongue caresses mine in greeting. My hands slide into his hair, gripping the strands, reuniting them with my fingers. Our lips fall back into a familiar rhythm, as if they were never parted. We both seem to remember our surroundings at the same time. With slick lips and smiling eyes, we pull apart, gasping for breath.

  “Want to get out of here?”

  “I want to be wherever you are.”

  “That’s good, because I’m right where I belong.”

  “Me, too.”

  This time, we don’t speak for a different reason. Gabriel’s mouth is attached to mine as he fumbles to put the key in the lock. I groan as the door opens and slams against the wall. Keeping our lips connected, I hitch my legs around his waist. My purse drops to the floor. Gabriel pins me against the open door with his hips as he takes off his jacket and flings it somewhere inside the apartment.

  A noise sounds from somewhere in the building. Keeping an arm pinned underneath my legs, Gabriel shifts our bodies and kicks his front door closed. Breaking our kiss, I tilt my head back and try to recover my breath. Gabriel nuzzles my neck, pressing fervent, frantic kisses along my collarbone. My restless fingers roam through his hair and down his back.

  Gabriel pulls back and stares into my eyes. After a quick, silent conversation, he lifts me up his body and carries me in the direction of his bedroom. His steps speed up. Gabriel recaptures my lips when my arms tighten around his neck. In the rush, he bumps into the coffee table, but keeps going as if he didn’t feel it. I smile against his mouth, nipping his bottom lip with my teeth.

  “Maybe, we should slow down,” I say in between gasps of air.

  “No. Later, we will take it slow.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Later? Pretty confident, aren’t you?”

  He winks. “Of course.”

  My laughter dies on my lips when Gabriel throws me down on the bed and climbs on top of me. “
No more talking.”

  I barely have time to nod before Gabriel’s mouth swoops back down. I writhe beneath him while his impatient hands rid me of my dress and all conscious thought. Anticipating his lips back on my skin, it takes me a minute to realize he’s frozen above me.

  Opening my eyes, I frown at him. I reach up and touch his cheek, but his eyes don’t move from my body. When I follow his gaze, it all becomes clear. Gabriel stares, transfixed at the spot just below my collarbone. Or rather, at the words now inked onto the skin:

  I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)

  Gabriel’s eyes swirl with emotion as his fingers brush against my tattoo.

  “E.E. Cummings?”

  I smile and trace his own tattoo quote on his chest. “I figured you shouldn’t be the only one with poetry on their skin. Plus, I couldn’t think of a more perfect quote.”

  At last, his eyes drift up to meet mine. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s…” A guttural groan sounds before he seizes my mouth. And then our bodies do the rest of the talking. Greedy hands slide over needy skin, words brush against bodies, and slick lips swallow desperate pleas. It’s pleasure, it’s torture, it’s reunion, it’s surrender. It’s the resurrection of us.

  My body blazes while Gabriel traces every inch of it with his hands and his mouth, until I’m consumed by sensation. We make up for lost time, closing every bit of space between our hearts.

  Sated and spent, we take a while to re-energize. Once we’re ready to make up for lost time, Gabriel aligns our bodies and looks down at me with love shining in his eyes. On a deep, elemental level, I recognize that this is a moment I’ll remember for the rest of my life.

  Reuniting our bodies, Gabriel licks my tears away. Our lips part as he sinks inside of me. For a second, neither of us moves. We just feel. With a deep sigh, Gabriel buries his head in my neck. Gripping my legs around him, I pull him into me when I feel water hit my shoulder. I run my hands over his shaking back, not bothering to stop my own tears.

  After a while, the trembling stops and he begins to move. When his gaze returns to mine, I’m trapped. A bond is reformed and tethered tight, one that will last long after our bodies have disconnected.

  Our tattoos caress with each passionate movement, both of them speaking of everlasting love. The same thing our bodies are communicating without words.

  We find our bliss together, in the same way we’ll find our sadness and our pain.

  And we’ll always, always find our way.

  I wake a few hours later with a smile on my face. Pale afternoon light washes the room clean. Peeking at a sleeping Gabriel, I resist the urge to kiss him. There’s something I need to do before any more of that occurs.

  Taking care not to wake Gabriel, I lift his heavy, protective arm from around my waist. I look around for my dress and underwear and laugh to myself when I see them hanging from objects in different corners of the room. I tiptoe over to collect them and dress as quietly as possible. Heading over to his desk, I pull out a pen and a piece of paper and write him a note. I place it on my pillow in case he wakes.

  “Gabriel, please don’t worry. I’ve just gone out to do something, but I’ll be back. I’ll always come back to you. For you.

  Yours (and hers) always,

  —Ava”

  Drinking in the sight of a sleeping Gabriel, finally at peace, I open the door and creep out.

  I find my purse on the floor by the front door and open it up to check that I have what I need. Catching my reflection in the mirror, I pull out a hair tie and put up the unruly mess. After one final glance around the apartment that has been the backdrop for so much of our story, I slip outside. I manage to hail a taxi almost as soon as I reach downstairs. Telling the driver my destination, I explain that I’ll need to make one quick stop.

  Now I’m back for good, there’s still one final person I need to see.

  The bouquets of flowers rustle in my hands as I walk. Giving a crying woman her privacy, I stare up at the sky and let the sun warm my face.

  After ten minutes, I discover what I was looking for. A perfect sense of irony hits me. I travelled all around the world, only to find myself here. In more ways than one.

  Standing in front of the headstone, a quiet calm fills me. Water pricks my eyes as I read the inscription etched into the marble.

  “She was every poem,

  And she was poetry.”

  Charlotte Cruz

  January 16, 1984 – August 23, 2013

  Beloved wife, mother, muse.

  The tears start to fall when I take in the tiny gravestone sitting to the left of Charlotte’s. Shifting the flowers, I use the back of my hand to wipe them away, but they fall too fast. The words blur, but I can still make them out:

  “You never had the chance to live on earth,

  But you will always be alive in our hearts.”

  Isabella Cruz

  August 23, 2013

  Beloved daughter, miracle, angel.

  Sinking into a crouch, I stroke the headstone as my tears fall onto the earth. I reach for the smaller bouquet, and place it on the grave of Gabriel’s daughter. God, even thinking those words sound wrong. Kissing my fingertips, I press them against the cool stone once more.

  “I hope you’re with your mommy, Isabella. And that you’re both watching over your daddy. He loved you so much. I’m sorry he never had the chance to meet you.”

  I sit and cry for the little girl who never was, before shifting my body and turning my attention to her mother, who no longer is.

  “Hi, Charlotte.” I laugh through my tears. “Are we on first name terms? It seems weird, but then I do have a piece of you inside of me, so we can’t get much closer, right?”

  I sniffle. “I’m sorry we’re meeting like this. I would have liked to meet you in an alternate universe, where we both had healthy, beating hearts. I guess in that alternate universe, Gabriel would still belong to you. And I’d be okay with that. If it meant you and your precious baby could have lived, and I could have lived too, I would trade my love for your life in a heartbeat. I want you to know that.”

  A gentle gust of wind blows my hair from my face. “I feel like I’m messing this up. But is there a correct way to speak to the dead wife of the love of your life, who also happens to be the person who saved your life? We’re like an episode of Jerry Springer.” I never thought I’d be laughing at a gravestone, but somehow it feels right. Even weirder, I can imagine Charlotte laughing with me, even though I’ve never met her.

  “I knew I’d screw it up with my awkwardness, so I wrote you a letter. I hope that’s okay. I find it easier to express myself in writing.” Placing the large bouquet of flowers on her grave, I open my purse and pull out the letter I wrote on the plane coming back from Argentina.

  “Do you mind if I read it to you? Listen to me, asking your opinion as if you can reply. I’m not sure what you guys can do up there, or if you’re even up there at all, but if you are and you don’t want me to read it to you, make it rain.” I wait for several moments, before rolling my eyes at myself. “Okay, I’m taking it as a sign. I’ll read it, but if at any point you want me to stop, you know what to do.”

  Laying my jacket on the ground, I sit down on it, in front of Charlotte’s headstone. I pull the letter out of the open envelope and take a deep breath. “Okay, here goes.” Clearing my throat, I begin to read.

  “To the woman who saved my life, I owe you everything. Thank you will never be enough for what you did.

  “To the woman who changed my life, you have no idea how much. You’ve given me health. You’ve given me time. You’ve given me freedom. You’ve given me chances and choices. And I will never take any of them for granted.

  “To the woman who gave me a life, please know that I’m determined to live it to the fullest, however long it may be. I will treasure your gift to me and make you proud. I’ll live for the both of us, and for Gabriel, too. I swear I’ll live with every beat of your heart.


  “And to you, Charlotte Cruz. I may never have met you, but I know you. You were the type of woman who made a man want to write a thousand love poems. You were the type of person who brought so much light to people’s lives that without you, they were plunged into darkness. You were the type of human who gave complete strangers the gift of life. You were strong. You were good. You were brave. You’re the type of woman I always wanted to be.

  “I don’t want to be you. I couldn’t even if I did. You’re irreplaceable to the world, and most importantly, to Gabriel. The heart he tells me I have, the one he’s given me? It has a you-shaped space that no one will ever be able to fill. You took it with you when you died, and it will always belong to you. I’m happy to share because I realize now that his heart has room for both of us.

  “It’s kind of perfect, when you think about it. You’re a part of me, I’m a part of Gabriel, Gabriel was a part of you, and you’re a part of him. It’s a twisted, beautiful love triangle. A messy tangle of hearts and lives that will forever be connected. Knowing the type of person you were, I’m happy to be connected to you for the rest of my life.

  “I’m proud to hold a piece of you, Charlotte.

  I’m proud to be your legacy.

  I’m proud to love your love.

  I’m so, so proud.

  And so very grateful.

  Thank you. From the bottom of our heart,

  Ava Malone”

  Finished speaking, I wipe away my tears, and breathe in the calm, quiet air. I say a final good-bye and then turn to leave the cemetery, walking forward toward the future, and the man I want by my side on the journey.

  It may just be my imagination, but as I leave the cemetery, the sun seems to shine a bit brighter.

  10 Years Later

  Strong arms wrap around my waist. Leaning back against my husband’s chest, I look up at him and smile. His heart beats steady against my back.