He Married Me for the Heart Inside My Chest Chapter 02
“Lila, you’ve been off lately, haven’t you?”
Wren Carter’s video call popped up while I was sitting in Silas’s study, going through his old hard drive.
“No, I’m fine.”
“Cut the crap. Your dark circles are practically hanging to your chin. Did Silas hurt you?”
I hesitated, then sent her the screenshot of the donor’s will.
She went dead quiet for ten full seconds.
“Oh no,” Wren swore. “He married you for this?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Not sure? The will says ‘Silas Hale’s lover.’ You didn’t even know him when you had the transplant, then he tracked you down… Lila, use your head.”
I didn’t answer.
Because I’d thought the exact same thing, all night long.
“What are you gonna do?”
“I need to confirm something first.”
“Confirm what? That he loves you, or the heart in your chest?”
The words were too blunt. They cut into me like a knife.
I opened my mouth, but I had no comeback.
I hung up and kept digging through the hard drive.
Most of it was work files. But there was an encrypted folder named “520.”
I tried the password three times.
First: my birthday. Wrong.
Second: our wedding anniversary. Wrong.
Third: 20210520.
Elowen’s death date.
The folder unlocked.
It was full of photos.
Elowen reading in the library. Elowen running on the track. Elowen asleep, leaning on his shoulder.
The last photo was taken in a hospital bed.
Elowen’s eyes were closed, her face pale, tubes sticking out of her body.
A note below it read: Last goodbye.
I closed the folder and put the hard drive back.
My hands shook, but my eyes were dry.
I couldn’t cry.
Because I suddenly remembered Silas’s wedding speech on our wedding day.
He’d said: “From now on, I’ll spend the rest of my life protecting you.”
The whole room had cheered. My mom had cried happy tears.
Only now did I realize who the “you” in that line was really for.
Silas got home right at eight p.m.
Sure enough, he was holding a box of vanilla bean scones.
“Try them. From that old bakery—waited in line for half an hour.”
I took it and opened the box.
They were dusted with dried vanilla, sweet and warm-scented.
“Silas, do you remember the first time I told you I loved vanilla bean scones?”
He thought for a second. “When we first met? You said you’d loved them since you were a kid.”
“I never said that.”
He froze.
“I’m allergic to vanilla. It gives me hives. I told you on our first date.”
The room went quiet.
Silas’s smile faltered, then returned to normal.
“Really? I must’ve mixed it up. Don’t eat these, then. I’ll get you something else tomorrow…”
“The person who loves vanilla bean scones is Elowen, isn’t it?”
His grip on his briefcase tightened.
This time, the silence lasted longer.
“Lila, what exactly are you trying to say?”
“Nothing.” I smiled, closing the scone box. “I’m gonna shower.”
I turned toward the bathroom, then stopped after two steps.
“By the way, our wedding anniversary’s next week. You remember, right?”
“Of course.”
“What’s the date?”
“…”
He didn’t answer.
Our wedding anniversary was November 3rd.
Elowen’s birthday was May 20th.
Every May 20th, Silas took the day off, saying it was a company team-building day.
I’d never doubted it before.
The sound of the shower covered everything.
I stood under the spray, hot water pouring over my head, running down my cheeks.
I couldn’t tell if it was water, or something else.
