The Fabric of our Souls

I’m walking down the streets of Boston.

It’s a cold, dreary day, but that’s okay—we like the cold days.

Lanston smiles at me, his beanie pulled down over his ears. Liam rolls his eyes at our friend but grins too. We walk down our favorite street, which has a bookstore and a coffee shop. It’s just down the road from our apartment. It’s what we dreamed of together. What we always wanted.

I’ve never been so happy in my entire life.

“Wynn, do you remember the first time we met?” Lanston asks gleefully.

I tilt my head. “Of course. Jericho’s counseling session.”

He nods. “That’s right. I saw your pink hair and how broken you were, and just like that, I knew.”

I grin and press him, “Knew what?”

“Knew that I loved you. Always you.” He brings me in for a tight hug.

It starts trickling rain as I look up at him. He’s crying, but his smile is endearing.

“I love you too. You know that.” I glance back at Liam, who is still walking ahead and getting further away from us. “Come on, we need to catch up or we’ll get left behind.”

Lanston shakes his head. “Not this time, baby. Go on ahead without me. I’ll see you two later.”

I hesitate. Our hands are clasped tight. I never want to let go. “Are you sure?” I ask, tracing his cheek with my forefinger and memorizing his lovely features, those kind hazel eyes and high cheekbones.

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

My eyes open. The familiar ceiling of the hospital welcomes me back into the cruel world.

I sit up.

No tubes are attached to me now, only an IV drip in my arm. James sits in the corner, slouched over and resting.

My chest still hurts. And unlike in my blurry, drug-induced state, I remember why.

Crosby shot us.

I look at the other beds in the room. All empty.

“Liam?” I call out, my voice hoarse from disuse. I have no idea how long it’s been, but my heart beats faster as despair takes hold of me.

“Lanston?”

James wakes up to my shouts and the beeping of my heart monitor. He hurries to my side and whispers soft words that I can’t hear, because I’m screaming.

“Liam! Lanston!”

Nurses rush in to tend to me. One pulls out a syringe, but someone calls out for her to stop.

Everyone stops fussing as I cover my mouth and still.

His eyes find me first, then he runs to me and embraces me so tightly that I squeak from the pressure.

“Not so hard,” James snaps furiously from my side.

“Sorry,” Liam mutters as he unwraps his arms from me and caresses my cheek adoringly. Tears fill his blue eyes and he presses a long kiss to my forehead. “I thought I’d never look into your eyes again.” He starts sobbing and shock unfurls inside me. I’ve never seen Liam cry like this.

“Where’s Lanston?” I ask, expecting him to walk through the door any second. I want to tell him about everything he missed. I’m so fucking relieved he wasn’t there.

Liam’s eyes widen and he cries harder, shaking his head. His hands tremble so violently that one of the nurses braces him and tries to coerce him to calm down.

Why is he upset about Lanston? He wasn’t there. He wasn’t…

James takes my hand and looks me in the eyes. He blinks away tears as he shakes his head.

“No,” I say, convinced they’re wrong. “No, he wasn’t there. He didn’t come with me.”

Liam reigns in his sobs and shakes his head.

“H-he s-s-saved us.” Fresh tears fall from his eyes and he grits his teeth as he forces himself to continue. “C-Crosby shot h-him.”

My world ends with those words.

My kindred soul cannot be gone. Surely I would feel the shift in the universe. I would feel the weight crashing in on me like the pressure deep in the sea, wouldn’t I? Wouldn’t my heart and soul just… know?

No, they’re wrong. I still feel him. He’s still here.

James frowns and holds my hands firmly, taking on the burden of telling me the news Liam cannot bear to speak. “He was shot in the spine, instantly paralyzing him from the waist down. Somehow, he miraculously remained upright and held his sweatshirt over your heart to staunch the bleeding. You all arrived here alive. Both your conditions worsened. Without a heart transplant, you were going to die. He didn’t pull through.” James lets his tears fall as he clears his throat. “His last request was that you receive his heart.”

I was born with a bad heart—literally and figuratively.

But you gave your heart to me, and because of you, I will live.

Because of you, I will never take my life for granted ever again.