My Heart Wants
Published by Nicole S. Goodin
Digital edition
ISBN: 9780473449186
Copyright 2018 by Nicole S. Goodin
All rights reserved. ©
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My Heart Wants
First published August 2018
All rights reserved. ©
Cover design by Nicole Goodin
Images purchased from Deposit Photos
Editing by Spell Bound
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, places, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The author acknowledges all song titles, song lyrics, film titles, film characters, trademarked statuses and brands mentioned in this book are the property of, and belong to, their respective owners.
Nicole Goodin is in no way affiliated with any of the brands, songs, musicians or artists mentioned in this book.
For Ruby
“She believed she could, so she did.”
-Author unknown
This book has been written using UK English and may contain euphemisms and slang words that form part of the New Zealand spoken word.
Please remember that the words are not misspelled. They are slang terms and form part of everyday, New Zealand vernacular.
I.e: I’m from New Zealand and sometimes we say weird things down here… please try and be cool about it.
There have been plenty of times when I’ve felt nervous in my life. I can think of half a dozen that spring to mind in an instant, and they’re all to do with my heart.
This is too, but not in the same way.
This is something new.
This is about what my heart wants, not what it needs for once, and all that my heart wants in this moment, is him.
Rylan
2015
I don’t know what I’m doing back at this window; this is the third time I’ve stood in this spot in the last hour alone.
I know I should do something, anything other than just linger here… but I don’t know how to break away.
There’s something keeping me here right now, and in a world where nothing seems to make sense anymore, I need this feeling, if only to get through the next few minutes.
I glance back at the girl in the bed.
If I had to guess, I’d say she was about nineteen years old – far too young to look the way she does.
She’s pale and gaunt and if I hadn’t had to witness first-hand my sister’s life in this world coming to an end, I would have sworn that nobody had ever looked as close to death as the girl behind this small glass window.
She’s motionless. So, so still and I worry for a moment that she’s dead too.
The only thing reassuring me she’s still alive, even though it’s really no business of mine, is the continuous beep from the monitor next to her, making it clear that her heart is, in fact, still beating – that it’s doing the very thing that my sister’s isn’t.
A loud sob rips through my body at the thought.
Doctors and nurses move around the hall but none of them bother me; most of them avoid eye contact entirely.
They know why I’m still aimlessly wandering the halls of the intensive care unit.
My sister may have been brain dead for a couple of days, but now she’s officially gone. The machines aren’t breathing for her anymore – there’s nothing left keeping her alive.
I don’t know what to do, I’ve never felt this alone or unsure in my entire life.
I know I need to leave; I need to be anywhere that’s not inside these hospital walls, but I can’t seem to make that happen.
I know I can’t stay here forever, but I’m terrified that walking out the door will make everything even more real than it already is.
I’m not sure who I’m trying to fool with my logic – this couldn’t possibly be any more real, and deep down I know that it’s not going to make a difference if I stay or go.
She’s gone.
I take one more look at the girl and promise myself that this will be the last time I’ll ever see her.
I allow my eyes to linger on her motionless form, and as I finally find the will to turn around, her arm moves, and my breath catches in my throat.
I watch her as though she’s some type of miracle, and maybe she is, as she slowly wakes and eventually glances over at the sleeping figure in the chair next to her.
I see the side of her face curve and I know she’s smiling.
Her head rolls slightly in my direction and the wave of pain that crosses her features is so sudden and intense that I rush forward a step.
She catches my movement out of the corner of her eye, and I stop dead in my tracks.
The nurse from the corner is rushing towards her, but she doesn’t look away from me.
All I really see are her eyes – surrounded by dark circles, they are the most beautiful crystal blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Even filled with pain, and dulled with obvious sickness, I’ve never seen anything like them.
She stares at me – a total stranger, and I stare back at her, with one lone tear rolling down my cheek.
Three years later
Violet
“What if this guy’s a sociopath, huh? What happens then?” I demand.
“Calm down, I’ve heard he’s really nice.”
“Oh ‘you’ve heard’ have you? He could be a killer just waiting for the right opportunity for all you know.”
Lucy pauses from applying the makeup to my face and rolls her eyes.
“You watch way too much C.S.I.”
I huff out a breath. “You’re not wrong, but that’s not the point… what if he’s a murder rapist, hmmm? You want that on your conscience?”
“Stop being such a drama queen and show me what you think you’re going to wear.”
“What do you mean, what I think I’m going to wear? I’m perfectly capable of putting clothes on my body, thank you very much.”
I know as well as she does that she’s just successfully distracted me from my irrational fears, but for now at least, I’ve got bigger fish to fry.
“Baggy t-shirts and jeans don’t count as clothes, Letty.”
“I wasn’t going to wear a t-shirt,” I grumble as I slide off the chair.
I pull out a long-sleeve blouse and a pair of black pants from my closet and wave them at her.
She screws up her nose in a look of distaste. “It’s a date, not a funeral.”
She might only be joking, but I’ve worn that exact outfit to a funeral before, so she actually has a point.
I shoot her daggers anyway as I rummage through the closet again, this time emerging with a denim skirt and a green knit, high-neck jumper.
“Oh, good God no… not the snot colour jersey.”
I throw the clothes onto the chair in the corner and groan in frustration. “You find me something then.”
We both know she’s going to get her way in the long run anyway – she always does.
“I’ll do you one better.” She grins wickedly, and I seriously fear for myself in this moment.
I may have survived more operations and treatments than I can count, but Lucy�
�s hare-brained schemes still scare the life out of me like nothing else.
Her and her ideas are the reason I’m preparing for a blind date right now.
Her husband, Emmett, is no better than she is. The guy I’ve been forced into meeting tonight is someone he knows from work apparently – so he’s as much to blame for this mess as she is.
“You know, I would have thought that being seven months pregnant would have slowed you down, even just a little bit.”
She turns and sticks her tongue out at me over her shoulder. “Not a chance.”
She pulls out a shopping bag, and I’m instantly nervous at the sight of it.
Lucy is always pointing items out on clothing racks at stores and telling me how good things would look on me.
She’s sweet, and if it wasn’t for the big scar that runs down the centre of my chest, she’d be absolutely right.
If it wasn’t for the marks on my skin, I probably would have tried on the plunging-neckline dress she’d pointed out to me two weeks ago.
But that’s not me. I’m scarred, I’m flawed. And I’m okay with keeping those parts of myself hidden. Lucy, however, doesn’t seem to see my scars when she looks at me, and while that’s a blessing in itself, right now, it has the potential to be a curse.
She waddles over with the bag and holds it out to me.
I reach for it as though it’s a bomb that could go off at any minute, because, quite frankly, it is.
“It won’t bite.” She laughs as she shoves it into my waiting hands. “Oh, ye of little faith.”
“Does it have sequins?” I wince.
“Nope.”
“Glitter?”
“Nope again.”
She sits herself down in the chair I sat in while she painted my face on.
“Plunging neckline?”
I brace myself for the answer.
“Just open the bag, Violet.”
I peek inside and am greeted by the sight of deep blue, soft fabric – so far so good.
I hold my breath and pull the garment out.
It’s a dress, with long sleeves and a full coverage front, a tie at the waist and by the looks of it, the length will fall around my knees.
It’s perfect.
“It’s gorgeous,” I breathe.
“You don’t have to sound so shocked.”
“I am shocked. I was seriously expecting at least a leg split or some awful attempt at getting my tits out or something.”
She laughs long and loud, clutching her swollen belly as she does.
Pregnancy becomes Lucy, she’s the most radiant and gorgeous pregnant woman I’ve ever seen.
“Don’t worry, I’m not blind. I see your face every time I point out those types of outfits – I know they’re not your thing.”
“Then why do you keep suggesting them to me?” I cry in outrage.
“Because they’d look beautiful on you, Letty. Just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean I can’t.”
I feel the blush heating my cheeks – I’m not good with any form of compliment, I never have been.
“And besides…” she winks at me, “you haven’t seen the back yet.”
I spin the dress around and grin. Now this type of plunging I can deal with.
The back drops down low and drapes at what I assume will be near the top of my bum.
I have no scars and nothing to hide back there and it’s almost as though this dress was made just for me.
“It’s amazing, thank you.”
She waves her hand in front of her to indicate that it’s no big deal at all, but I’m not having it. She’s thought a lot about this outfit. I know she so desperately wants tonight to go well for me.
I don’t date. Like, ever.
I’m not even entirely sure how I ended up agreeing to being set up on a blind date in the first place, my sly best friend and her equally as cunning husband must have caught me in a moment of weakness, but I’m here now, and looking far more respectable than I usually do – so I figure I may as well go and make the best of it.
“Seriously, Luce, it’s beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now put it on,” she demands, glancing at her watch as she speaks, giving me a clear indication that I need to hurry up.
“Brown ankle boots,” she hollers after me as I rush into my walk-in closet.
I emerge wearing the correct items of clothing and Lucy sighs in satisfaction.
“Perfect.”
“Promise you’ll be right next door?” I plead with Lucy and Emmett as we pull up outside the restaurant.
“I swear on my life,” Lucy replies. “Now get out of the car and stop being such a chicken shit.”
I’ve insisted they wait until either one of two things happen – one; I bail and need them to get me the hell out of there, or two; I hit it off with this guy and find my own way home.
I don’t even feel bad about hijacking their evening for my own benefit – the two of them got me into this mess, it’s the least they can do as far as I’m concerned.
“He’s a good guy, Vi,” Emmett reassures me in a manner far nicer than his hormonal wife.
“Okay, I can do this,” I reply in a less than convincing tone.
“C’mon, woman, you’ve literally survived dying, and yet you’re scared of a date?”
Lucy’s right.
I know she’s right, but that doesn’t stop the heart that still feels foreign to me from beating erratically in my chest at the very thought of getting out of this car and walking inside.
“I can do this.” I’m slightly steadier sounding this time so I open the door and step out while I’m still able to find the courage to go through with it.
Rylan
I know that running late for a date isn’t going to be the best first impression I’ve ever made, but I’ve got a pretty good excuse, and if the woman I’m meeting tonight doesn’t understand that, then it was never going to work out anyway.
My job can be demanding, and I’m well aware that it’s probably what’s kept me from having any type of meaningful relationships with women thus far. That, and the lingering feeling something’s missing whenever I’m in the presence of other people.
Ever since my sister passed away, I’m left constantly feeling like a piece of me is incomplete.
I’ve met nice women, but nothing ever feels as right as I know it should – so for years I never felt compelled to invite anybody new into my life.
I’m not expecting to walk into this restaurant tonight and find the solution to that problem, but a guy can dream.
I hear the tone indicating I have a text message as I throw myself into the driver’s seat of my car. I stop at a red light and pull out my cell. I shake my head at the picture message I’ve just received from Emmett.
Emmett and I work together at the hospital, and with a bit of luck I’ll be delivering his baby within the next two months.
He and his wife Lucy – they’re the ones responsible for this set up tonight.
Emmett’s sent me a picture of a woman I assume is Violet – my company for the evening. I can’t see her face, and if I had to guess I’d say he took the picture of her as she walked towards the date I’m currently running late for.
The light turns green and I speed up a little; the thought of her sitting alone at a table is making me feel guilty.
After what feels like an eternity, I pull up outside and I must have some type of luck after all because there’s a park right outside.
I take a deep breath before pushing the door open and jogging to the front of the restaurant.
Thanks to Emmett I know I’m looking for a woman with long dark hair, and a blue dress.
I’m glancing around as I give my name to the woman behind the desk and she points Violet out at the same moment that my eyes find her.
She doesn’t look around as I approach from behind, and I still can’t see her face.
I clear my throat in an attempt not to startle her, but still
she jumps a fraction in her seat.
She turns slowly to face me and it’s all I can do not to gasp as I see her face for the first time.
She’s so beautiful, but not only that, she’s oddly familiar.
I’m certain we’ve never met, but I feel drawn to her, like souls rekindling.
“Violet?” I question her, my voice sounding not at all like my own.
She looks at me as though she’s seeing a ghost and her face pales visibly.
The doctor in me takes over.
“Are you okay?” I reach for her elbow on instinct; I’m worried that she’s going to pass out, but for now at least she seems to be holding steady.
She’s just staring at me in obvious shock.
She’s caught up inside her own head right now, and I know that I won’t reach her, no matter what I say. So I don’t say anything, instead I crouch down next to her and wait.
It takes a full minute until she blinks once, twice, three times, before giving her head a little shake to clear it.
“Violet?” I repeat.
She reaches for her glass and takes a quick sip.
“I’m so sorry,” she breathes as she sets it back down. “You gave me a fright. Rylan?” she questions me back, her eyes lingering on my face for a moment before trailing down my shoulder and arm to where my hand is still touching her.
I let her go hurriedly, as though I’m a teenager being caught doing the wrong thing.
“That’s me,” I tell her with a smile.
Her eyes are on my face again, as mine are on hers, and I watch in silent appreciation as her lips curve up to mirror mine.
An overwhelming sense of calm that I haven’t felt in years settles over me, and I decide that now would be a good time for me to sit down.
Violet
I would have known those eyes anywhere – I’ve dreamed about them nearly every night since I was twenty-one years old.
My Heart Wants (The Heart Duet Book 2) Page 1
