The sincerity in those warm eyes makes me want to tell her. To lay it down at her feet knowing she won’t use it to hurt me. It’s a certainty I can’t shake. It’s an undeniable truth and it scares me. Nobody has ever had this power over me.
She folds the kitchen towel with finality and continues. “That’s all I wanted to say. I’ll go to the site after work. Finn wants to talk to me about something.” She grimaces. “I hope it’s not another delay.”
Before any words leave my mouth, she walks away with a soft smile and a wink that has me questioning what I thought I knew about myself when an unfamiliar heat rushes to my cheeks.
The day is a blur of heavy clouds of doubt and resolutions circling in and out of my head until the unmistakable metal grunt of her so-called truck pierces the silence. Every ounce of hesitation vanishes, and I let myself follow that invisible string leading me to Eliza.
This warmer night drew her out to the swing, where she’s flipping through one of her DIY home improvement magazines.
The swing creaks under my weight and Eliza welcomes me with quiet amusement. I appreciate how she leaves me the space to talk if I want to. The light swing, the murmur of the forest, and her smell bring down my blood pressure.
“It was an ordinary day at the office.” I focus on the tops of the trees swaying under the bright stars. “The usual argument with Joseph. I was tired, but it was nothing new with the long hours.” I breathe in through my nose. “He was pestering me that I never took days off and saying I can’t control all the aspects of the business because it will drive me insane.”
The next part is the hardest. I only talked about it with my doctors.
“The pain didn’t register at first, I was so riled up.” I was overheating but I thought it was the anger directedat Joseph.
“The pressure became heavier until the tightness across my chest became unbearable. That’s when the fear crept in.” I knew something was very wrong and I had no control over it. Powerlessness choked me as the pain spread to my arms and clenched my jaw.
Eliza’s cold palm slides over my fist. Her touch loosens the ropes of dread tightening around me in a death grip.
“The last thing I remember before it went dark was the panic of being helpless. Next time I was conscious was in the hospital, when I found out they had to cut me open.”
The doctor had told me heart attacks in young people are not so uncommon. The workload, stress, and my family history were major factors. That’s what killed my father, but I never thought it could happen to me.
Eliza keeps rubbing her thumb over my knuckles, but she’s silent for a while and I don’t have the courage to check if she’s looking at me differently.
“How did you manage to keep this a secret?”
“Because I completely trust only five people in my life and my family makes generous donations to the hospital where I was treated. The rest signed an NDA.”
I struggle to accept what happened and I hate talking about it. The weakness, the unshakable fear that it can happen again. The anti-anxiety medication helps, but it’s still difficult and it’s the main reason I don’t want people to know. The stress and fear of another one has haunted me ever since I came back to life. I can’t abandon my mother and sister. I have to be there for them and the family business.
Eliza’s brows scrunch. “Why not tell everyone?”
“What does a heart attack at thirty-two say about me? About the future of the company?”
“That you’re human. Is that so awful?” There’s no judgment or reproach in her tone, but she’s too naive.
A small sad smile is all I can give her. “It might be if people start thinking less of me. They can take what our family has built.”
“I don’t think less of you. You’re still a giant unbearable arrogant prick,” she says with a smirk.
The laughter bubbling out breaks the tension and my lungs finally function properly.
“Oh, shoot. And I tried to kill you with breakfast the first morning!” She slaps her hand over her lips, eyes going wide.
Another burst of laughter makes her face crumple. “I fixated on what I thought was healthy. I’m sorry. So, that’s the reason I’ve been exiled here.”
Eliza’s mouth quirks. “You don’t strike me as the kind of man who does things he doesn’t want to. Your mom and sister are lucky you love them so much.”
“They told me I had to be careful.” It made me paranoid. “I’m sorry for being an asshole. You’ve been nothing but kind and I’m an ungrateful twit.”
“It’s OK.”
My fingers thread through hers and I rest our hands on my chest. “No. Far from it. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m—” The words jam into a lump in my throat. “I’m ashamed of it. The scar.”
“Is that why you,” she hesitates, shy. “Wouldn’t let me touch you?” she says quietly.
