“What?”
“They found Aaliyah a heart.”
43
Aaliyah
A heart.
A heart for me.
Damian was there when Dr. Erickson told me the news. I was glad, too, because I needed a hand to hold, and Damian was quick to offer me his.
I always thought when I’d find out there was a heart for me, I’d feel an overwhelming amount of joy, but I felt indescribable guilt. Guilt that someone had to lose their life for mine to continue on. That there were people now grieving the loss of their loved one. That the source of their despair was my triumph.
I felt ill from it all. As if I was cheating death. It all didn’t seem fair.
“Circle of life,” Damian said, still holding my hand. He said it so calmly as if he could tell the places my mind was spiraling. “Every beginning has an end and every ending begins again. This is a good thing, Aaliyah. This is good.”
I nodded my head as Dr. Erickson walked me through everything that was happening. He explained how the family was saying their final goodbyes, and that after they were taken off life support, his team would move full speed ahead to prep me for surgery. And within a few hours, I’d have a new heart.
It all felt surreal, as if I were floating in a dream that was leading me to a future I started to doubt I’d ever have a shot at.
Damian excused himself for a while, as Dr. Erickson kept explaining to me the next steps. When he finished, I was left alone for a moment’s time to sit and think about everything that was happening. I thought about what it meant for me to get this heart, what it meant for another family to lose said heart. Life was complicated in ways I’d never be able to understand.
There was a knock at my door, and I was surprised when I looked up to see Damian standing there with Connor beside him.
I sat up a bit in my bed and tilted my head in confusion. “What are you doing here?” I asked Connor, then I looked to Damian. “You told him?”
“I had to,” he confessed. “He’s my brother.” He patted Connor on the back and nodded once. “I’ll let the two of you talk.”
As Damian left the room, Connor stepped inside.
“Hi,” he whispered.
“Hi,” I replied, uncomfortable with how comfortable he made me. I should’ve hated him. I should’ve told him to leave. I should’ve pushed him away, but instead, I stayed quiet, waiting for him to speak. Waiting to see what he had to say.
He cleared his throat. “You’re getting a new heart.”
“Yes.”
“That’s amazing.”
I stayed quiet.
He moved in closer.
The machines beeped more.
He took a step back.
“Listen, I don’t want to add any more stress to your life, Aaliyah. I get it, you hate me. I don’t blame you. For the past few weeks, I’ve hated myself more than ever before, but please, Aaliyah…let me stay tonight. You’re going into surgery soon, and I can’t be anywhere else but here. I don’t even have to talk to you. I won’t even look at you if you don’t want me to. If you tell me to stare into that corner, I’ll stare all fucking night, but I can’t leave you, okay?
“I can’t leave you in case something goes wrong, in case the surgery doesn’t work, and, God forbid, in case you end up leaving me…so please, Aaliyah. Please? Please let me stay tonight, because the idea of walking away now burns my entire being. Please, Red…please…” He closed his eyes for a moment and when he reopened them tears began streaming down his cheeks. He pushed his tongue into his cheek as his body began to tremble. As his whole existence began to crumble right there before my eyes. “Please let me stay.”
He stood there completely broken. He showed me his hurts and laid them there to bleed in the open. I saw his fear, I saw his panic, but mostly I saw his love. Love didn’t only show its face during happiness. It didn’t skip by only during the sunshine. No. Sometimes—most of the time—love was a storm at war.
Love explored the world during the darkness. It crawled through pain, fought through combats, and hit rock bottom with a million battle scars. Love wasn’t only the rainbows. Love sparked in the lightning and screamed during the thunder. In that very moment, love rained down over Connor, and his love was being directed straight toward me. Raw. Unleashed. True.
I shifted around in my hospital bed and stared down at my hands.
I thought about it, too. If I didn’t make it out of the surgery. If the heart transplant didn’t work. If the sand of my life ran out. If I never saw him again. If our last exchange was one filled with me asking him to leave.
When all I ever wanted was for him to stay.
“Will you read?” I spoke softly, looking his way. “Will you read the comic book to me?”
He followed my glance to the side table where a stack of comic books sat that Damian had dropped off for me.
“Yes,” he said without a second of hesitation. “Can I pull my chair up close to you?”
“Yes,” I said without a second of hesitation.
I wanted him close.
I needed him close.
I missed his closeness.
He grabbed one of the comic books, and dragged a chair over to me. He began reading to me, and I fell asleep to his words. When I awakened during the night, I found his head resting against the edge of the bed as he slept. His hand was wrapped around something as he rested his arm in his lap. I reached down to unwrap whatever it was that he had in his grip, and my emotions overtook me as I stared down at a handful of quarters.
Before long, I fell back asleep. I was awakened again, this time by a nurse. Connor was no longer
