The Heart I Married For

s very public affair. I did it all for the heart beating in

estigator shattered everything. It wa

and. It was beating inside a tec

ger. When his mistress caused me to fall into a pool, he left

eak, all for a devastating coincidenc

ly tracked me down, begging me to come back, he didn't understand. I wasn't r

pte

el

ine, believing it was a lie that kept my real love alive; the tr

f the penthouse. I ignored it, focused on scrubbing a non-existent stain from the countertop. It was a hab

t a sigh, wiped my hands on a dish towel, and picke

nswered, my voice

ave the information you requested. But I...

d down my spine. "Ju

, Mrs. Higgins. A significant one. The hospital records... they were misfil

unter, my knuckles turning w

vy and foreign despite being my husband' s. "He did have a hear

leaming steel appliances, the view of the New York

as a whisper, a br

professional pity, "was transplanted into another man. A

er. Austi

ex. No

. Four years. Four years of devotion, of enduring Alex's cold indifference, his public humiliations with Bianca Bernard hanging off h

A stupid, pathet

t four years, evaporated in an instant. It didn't cru

de in, loosening his tie. He tossed his briefcase

iar, detached command. "Bianca' s had a f

eady shrugging out of his suit jacket, his focus entirely on t

y radiating from him that I had never seen before. His perfectly styled hair was sl

could barely stand, he' d simply told his assistant to have a doctor make a house call. When I' d cut my hand

tark contrast to his perp

ir the phantom ache of love for Dale. It sti

when I didn't move. His eyes, the cold gray eyes I once tried

world had just been obliterated, an

void of the tremor it usually held when I spo

he hell are you talking about? What does that have to do with an

ear whisper. "Your heart. The one beating in your chest right now. Di

ind. "Complications? No. What is th

lex," I clarified, the words tasting like freedo

been planning our honeymoon, his eyes sparkling as he described the sunsets in Santorini. He'd registered as an organ donor a year before, a casual act of generosity.

ved. He

had received a heart transplant on the same day, in the same hospital, a desperate

r. A convenient wife he married on a whim after seeing a picture of Bianca, his childhood friend and unrequited love, with ano

ys forgotten, all because Bianca called. And I had endured it all, pressing my hand t

through his confusion. "Was there a history of allergie

rs mentioned something... the donor's mother had a severe alle

ther was severely allergic

a coincidence. A cruel, devastating coincid

he filter of my grief. And I saw him for what he was: a cold, self

roken. And so

ne, touched my lips. It felt foreign. "You should go

ng him. He couldn' t place it. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something else, but the thought of B

ut, I picked up my phone from

ed my

resolute. "It's Hazel Higgins. I wan