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I have to tell him the truth.
Even if I lose him.
Inhaling a steadying breath, I sit up straighter and say, “I have a heart thing.”
Charlie closes his eyes like he’s been expecting this. “What kind of heart thing?”
I swallow, pressing on. “It’s called supraventricular tachycardia or SVT for short,” I say. And then I take a deep breath and release all of it. How my brother and father shielded me. All the medical jargon. My triggers.
“Stress is tricky,” I explain to Charlie. “It’s like the electrical charge in my heart gets disconnected and when it does, I faint. I call it a flutter.”
Charlie stares at me like every interaction we’ve had this summer is running through that beautiful brain of his. His broad chest rises and falls.
“And your pills?” The words wrench from his mouth. “Is that the treatment?”
I nod. “I have medicine and techniques to ward it off if I feel it coming, but ...it’s getting worse.” I take a shuddery breath. “I went to the doctor today. They want me to go home and see my cardiologist. The pills aren’t working anymore.”
“Then what will?”
I shake my head, wanting him to understand. “It’s not something you can fix, Charlie. I won’t ever get better. And one day, my heart will stop, and it will never start again, and I will die.”
Charlie makes a kind of tortured sound in the back of his throat.
I go on.
“It could be two years, or it could be twenty. My mother had a heart attack. My aunt died at twenty-eight. Our life expectancy isn’t great.” I bite my lip and keep my gaze on my hands as I admit the hard truth. “I shouldn’t have been here this summer. I made it worse. I was reckless with my heart.” I meet his eyes. “With yours.”
Turning away from me, he sets his head in his hands and breathes deeply.
“Charlie ...” I press a palm against his muscled back, but he rips up off the bed and crosses the room.
At the distance he puts between us, I burst into tears. “You’re mad. I understand.”
He makes a fist, sets it on the wall, squeezes his eyes shut, and rests his brow beside it. “I’m not mad, Ruby. Hell, I’m—”
Devastated. Broken.
I see it on his face, the sensation of being completely knocked off his axis.
Heartbroken.
I did this to him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, pushing off the wall and pacing the room like a caged animal. Confusion creases his handsome features.
I rub my weary eyes. “I never thought I’d see you again, let alone work for you. And then we made the deal about Runaway Ranch.” A weak, tearful laugh shakes my body. “We were supposed to be temporary. And I didn’t want you to treat me like I was broken or fragile. I wanted to live for once in my life. If you knew ...that’s all you’d see.”
Charlie’s eyes soften.
I sniffle, reining back more tears. “I didn’t think it mattered. That I’d be gone by the end of the summer. But then I fell in love with you, Charlie, and I found out about Maggie and Ford said—” Charlie swears. “I tried to leave. I didn’t want to put you through any more pain. But I ...I couldn’t.” I choke on a sob. “I love you too much.”
Charlie stands by the door, his large frame tensed and locked, processing what I’ve just told him. “You should have told me,” he growls, his gruff voice laced with pain.
I nod. “I know. I tried. Every day I told myself I’d tell you, and every day, I chickened out. I was selfish. I didn’t want to hurt you or lose you.”
His jaw hardens, and he stomps toward me. “You went through it all alone. All this time you were hurting and in pain and sick, and I didn’t know a goddamn thing about it.”
A hot tear rolls down my cheek. My heart hurts. I deserve every bit of his anger, his frustration. I have no excuse, no rebuttal.
