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The receptionist punched some keys and said, “He was admitted.”
“Where is he?”
“Are you family?”
“I’m not related, no.”
“They may not be able to give you much info or let you see him. He’s on the third floor, though. Take those elevators.”
Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion: sliding into an elevator at the last second; weaving my way through the halls of the third floor.
Then, I saw him. Or so I thought. In my haze, I had mistaken Tyler for Damien. Tyler was pacing with his hands in his pockets.
He stopped when he saw me and looked a bit panicked. “Chelsea?”
A rush of adrenaline hit me. “Where is he?”
“He’s okay. He’s okay. He’s alive.”
Thank God.
Thank you, God.
“I need to see him.”
“You can’t right now.”
“Why not?”
“He’s with his doctor.”
“I’m going in.”
He placed his hands on my arms to stop me. “No, Chelsea.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
Tyler just stared at me for the longest time. He walked over to the nurses’ station and grabbed a tissue before handing it to me.
“Come on. Let’s take a walk.”CHAPTER SIXTEENBROKEN HEARTEDTyler led me out to a grassy area just outside of the hospital doors. The late afternoon sun was starting to set, and the cool breeze dried my tears a bit.
He was alive.
I reminded myself that whatever Tyler was about to tell me couldn’t be that bad because Damien was alive. He was talking to his doctors, right?
“It’s gonna be okay,” he said.
“What’s going on, Tyler? Don’t beat around the bush anymore. I can’t handle it.”
“Come sit.” He led me over to a bench. “This is a conversation you were supposed to have had with him. But if he had his way, it never would have happened. I don’t care if he kills me. You need to know.”
“What? Need to know what?”
“Damien fainted. His blood pressure dropped suddenly. He was probably under a lot of stress lately and not taking good care of himself. That’s what brought him here today.”
“Okay…that’s not that bad.”
“It’s happened before. Over the past few years, he’s been getting more symptoms—symptoms that didn’t exist until recently.”
“Symptoms of what?”
“Damien has a heart condition, Chelsea. It’s called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.”
“What?”
“A long name, I know. It’s inherited. It’s the same condition that killed our father.”
My heart sank, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “What does it mean?”
“It means a part of his heart muscle is thickened. Sometimes, there are no symptoms and people, like my dad, don’t even know they have it. They just go into sudden cardiac arrest. Many of them die. In Damien’s case, we found out through genetic testing that he has it. More recently, he’s been experiencing some mild symptoms.”
“How long has he known?”
“For about five years. My mother wanted us both to get tested for it, because it took my father so young. There was a fifty percent chance that either of us had it. I tested negative. When Damien realized he has the same condition that killed Dad, he became convinced that the same thing would happen to him. That’s partly why he bought that building. He decided he didn’t want to spend precious time working the daily grind. He preferred to spend his days doing what he loved, making art.”
“Is everyone with this disease destined to die young?”
“No, that’s the thing. Many live completely normal lives. There is just no way to know.”
“But Damien is convinced he’ll die young?”
“Yes. And that’s why he refuses to get involved with you, because he doesn’t want what happened to my mother, to happen to you.”
“Why couldn’t he tell me?”
“Because he knew you would say it didn’t matter. He didn’t want you to know. He wanted you to move on, find someone else, so that you never had to get hurt. It kills him to push you away, because he’s crazy about you.”
I had to stop to compose myself. It was an overwhelming a-ha moment. It was like he’d just handed me a gigantic missing puzzle piece. Everything finally made sense.
Damien’s words from our conversation on the beach in Santa Cruz rang out in my mind.
“My heart is broken.”
It finally made sense!
“He’s crazy.”
Ty chuckled. “I tell him that all the time.”
“What are the doctors discussing with him right now?”
“When Damien’s doctor from Stanford found out he was here, he made a special trip to come down here and see him.” Ty scratched his chin. “Okay, so there’s another part to this story. For some time now, Damien’s cardiologists have been trying to convince him to have open-heart surgery.”
“Oh, my God.” My heart was pounding uncontrollably.
“Yeah. He’s scared. He thinks the surgery alone might kill him. It absolutely terrifies him, but more and more, it’s seeming like something he should consider.”
“What will the surgery do to help?”
“They would basically remove part of the overgrown muscle to help blood flow. They think it would improve his quality of life as time goes on and might lengthen his life expectancy. But there are serious risks with that type of surgery. Remember our trip to Los Angeles…when you watched the dogs?”
