Page 25 of The Broken Hearts Club

“Even so,” I said, “I bet there were plenty of people who wanted to get with you.”

“I don’t know. Maybe. All of that feels like a lifetime ago. When I think back to high school and college, I feel like I’m reliving somebody else’s memories.”

“That sounds like an episode of a sci-fi TV show. The X Files, maybe. Or no, The Twilight Zone.”

“I love both of those shows.”

“Me, too! I watched a ton of TV with Aunt Sue, because she couldn’t do much else. She was a huge sci-fi nerd, so we had DVD box sets of both of those series, and a bunch of others. Star Trek: The Next Generation was another one of our favorites. I’ve seen every episode way too many times.”

“Honestly, same.” Miller seemed happy to discover we had something in common.

We both launched into dueling Captain Picard imitations, trying to perfectly dial in Patrick Stewart’s accent and enunciation. This mostly consisted of cussing out Wesley over and over again, which made us laugh.

Miller ended up totally nailing it, and once I conceded victory, I muttered, “Man, now I really want to watch some Star Trek TNG.”

He reached for the remote. “Let’s do it.”

My mouth felt dry, so I said, “While you cue it up, I’m going to get a drink. Do you want anything from the kitchen?”

“No, thanks.”

I got up and crossed the room, but I came to a stop when my heart started to race. I braced my hand against the doorframe as my vision blurred.

The last thing I remembered before everything went black was Miller shouting my name.

6

Miller

Collie looked tiny and fragile in the hospital bed. An IV dripped steadily into his arm, and a monitor displayed his vital signs.

I’d been staring at the zigzag pattern of his heartbeat for hours before he finally woke up and looked around. When he saw me, he whispered, “Miller.” His voice was weak and scratchy. “What’s going on?”

I got up and took his hand. “You’re in a hospital, because you passed out.”

“How long was I unconscious?”

“A few minutes. You came to in the ambulance, but you were extremely agitated, so they had to sedate you. If you feel groggy, it’s probably because the sedative is still wearing off.”

“I don’t remember an ambulance.” He shut his eyes. I thought he might have fallen asleep, but after a minute he asked, “What time is it?”

“It’s almost one a.m. I lied and said I was your husband, so the nurses would let me spend the night in your room. I thought you’d be scared if you woke up alone in an unfamiliar place.”

“I’m so glad you stayed. I would have been terrified.” After another pause, he asked, “Do the doctors know why I passed out?”

“They think they do.”

He opened his eyes and met my gaze. “What was it?”

I gently brushed his hair back. “It’s better if you hear it from a doctor. They’ll be able to answer your questions and⁠—”

“Why? Is it bad?” His eyes went wide. For the first time, I saw that they were a true gray. “It is, isn’t it? You look so serious.”

As much as I’d wanted a doctor to explain this to him, he was getting himself worked up, so I said, “You have a congenital heart defect, which forces your heart to work harder than it should to pump blood through your body. You might already know this, because it’s something you would have been born with.”

“I had no idea. How could I go through my whole life with no clue that I have something like that?”

“The doctor said a lot of people don’t show any symptoms until adulthood.”