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“Sunflower days for the rest of your life,” I vow. “I’ll give them all to you, baby.”
“You have me,” she says on a sob and my chest heaves in relief. “You have my heart, Cowboy.”
I lean down, sweeping my mouth against her lips. And that final dark part of me that’s hidden in shadows finally slips into the sun.
Sweaty and nightmarish, I jolt up in bed, gasping for air. A brilliant burst of gold peeks beyond the horizon.
The sunrise.
We missed it.
But I don’t miss the beat of my heart.
It’s hammering, some insane fist of rage knocking on the inside of my chest.
Charlie sleeps beside me, his broad chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Dark hair mussed, handsome face peaceful, sheets tangled around his legs. His tense muscles all soft and relaxed in sleep.
I reach out to touch him and the entire room moves.
Oh no.
Panic sets in. I scramble out of bed and rush to the bathroom. I slam the door shut and lock it.
Gripping the sink, I gasp at my reflection in the mirror. My face is pale, dark circles beneath my eyes. Haunted. I look haunted.
With trembling fingers, I massage my chest, trying to force some calm into my distressed heart.
Not now. Not here.
Not when last night was so perfect.
Charlie wants to marry me.
Having him in my life—it’s been a miracle.
He’s been worth every secret, every flutter, every risk, every crazy, heart stopping moment that’s happened this summer.
I want love. I want Charlie. A bone-splitting ache tears through me, and my eyes blur with hot tears. Because I can’t have any of it.
My heart won’t let me.
The reality of what I’ve been doing settles over me like a blanket of doom. My flutters are happening more and more. My heart’s getting worse. This summer, I’ve asked for too much from my patchwork body.
I’ve pushed myself to my limit.
I’ve been so obsessed with finding a new life, but what I need is a new body.
A new heart.
I sob-gasp, then slap a hand over my mouth to smother the sound.
It’s hard to breathe. Tears fill my eyes and I blink fast to ward them off.
What am I doing lying to him?
I scramble for my pills, knocking the soap and Charlie’s razor off the sink and onto the floor. I shake out a pill and swallow it, even when I know it doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter anymore.
