He Married Me for the Heart Inside My Chest Chapter 03
“How do you wanna spend the anniversary?”
Silas brought it up over breakfast the next morning.
I bit into my toast and watched him stir sugar into his coffee, calm as ever.
“Your call.”
“Book a restaurant? You mentioned wanting to try that Japanese place last time.”
“Sounds good.”
I didn’t call him out on definitely looking up our anniversary the night before.
Because that morning, I’d seen a notification on his phone memo: Nov 3, Anniversary.
Created at 11:47 p.m. last night.
Three years married, and it was the first time he’d written it down.
And I’d checked his calendar. Every year, May 20th had a tiny red dot.
No words, but never missed.
After he left that morning, an unknown number called.
“Is this Ms. Voss? This is the follow-up nurse from the Organ Transplant Center at Renhe Hospital.”
“Yes.”
“You had a heart transplant here three years ago. Per post-op protocol, we need to do an annual follow-up. Are you available for a check-up soon?”
“I am.”
“Great. I’ll book you a slot for Wednesday morning. Just to confirm, your emergency contact is still Mr. Hale, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect. The follow-up notice will also be sent to your emergency contact.”
I hung up, a thought crossing my mind.
What would Silas do when he got that notice?
Worry? Care?
Or… check that his “investment” was still functioning?
Wednesday morning, I went to the hospital alone.
I didn’t tell Silas.
After the exam, the attending doctor looked over the report and said everything was normal.
I hesitated.
“Doctor, can I get the donor’s information for my heart?”
“Policy states donor and recipient info is confidential.”
“What if the donor’s family contacts me voluntarily?”
The doctor adjusted his glasses.
“If both parties agree, we can coordinate through the Red Cross. But from what I know, the donor’s family has never requested contact.”
Never requested.
Meaning Silas had never found me through official channels.
So how had he found me?
I stepped out of the hospital. My phone buzzed.
A message from Silas:
[Got the hospital follow-up notice. Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve gone with you.]
I replied:
[Already done. Everything’s fine.]
He texted back instantly:
[You have to tell me next time. I don’t like you going alone.]
Don’t like.
Did he mean me, or the heart?
I stuffed my phone in my pocket and stood outside the hospital for a long time.
Then I hailed a taxi and gave an address.
Elowen’s grave.
I’d looked it up online. She was buried at Maplewood Cemetery, on the outskirts of town.
When I got there, I followed the signs to her headstone.
White marble, with her photo embedded in it.
Same bright smile as in the hard drive photos.
A fresh bouquet of white roses sat in front of it.
Dew still glistened on the petals from that morning.
It was Wednesday.
Silas had said he had an early meeting today.
I squatted down and saw a small card tucked under the bouquet.
Two words, in Silas’s handwriting.
“Miss you.”
I stood up, my legs weak.
Three years.
How many days had he said he was in a meeting, out of town, working late… when he was really here?
Standing at a headstone, saying “miss you,” then going home to press his hand to my chest, counting that heart’s beats to fall asleep.
My stomach turned.
Not at him. At myself.
For being so blind for three years.
My phone rang again. It was Silas.
“Lila, what do you want for dinner? I’ll leave work early to make it.”
I stared at Elowen’s smiling face on the headstone, listening to his gentle voice on the phone.
“Whatever you want.”
“Alright, I’ll make your favorite braised pork ribs.”
My favorite was sweet & sour pork ribs.
Braised pork ribs were probably Elowen’s favorite.
“Okay.”
I hung up, glancing at the white roses one last time.
As I turned to leave, I whispered something to Elowen in my head.
I’m sorry. I’m giving your heart back to him.
