Heart Strings

“How is she? May I see her?”

“Soon. They have a couple more tests, then you can see her.”

“Is she all right?” I asked anxiously, laying my hand on her arm to stop her from walking away.

Her smile was kind. “She’s awake and doing better.”

I had to be satisfied with that answer. “Tell her I’m here.”

“She knows.”Brianna arrived, looking worried. “What’s going on?” She dragged me to the corner where there were a couple of empty chairs. “What happened?” Her eyes went wide, and she grabbed my chin. “What happened to your face?”

I grimaced and pulled away. “It met Lottie’s father—officially.”

“He hit you?”

I told her all I knew. “They must have had a huge disagreement. He met me in the hall, and we exchanged words. He hauled off and hit me,” I finished.

“Did you hit him back?”

“I wanted to, but no.”

“Good. Have they told you what is wrong with Lottie?”

“No. It’s very frustrating.”

“Stay here. I mean it. Don’t move, Logan.”

She stood and approached the busy nurses station. She spoke briefly to one woman, then disappeared around the corner. I narrowed my eyes, wondering where she was going. I began to tap my knee, the irregular beat keeping me occupied and stopping me from following her. After about fifteen minutes, she reappeared and sat down beside me. “You can see her in a couple of moments. They’re keeping her in for observation. She’s not too happy about that.”

“You saw her?”

“For a few moments. I told them I was her sister and she’d called and asked me to bring her a few things she needed.”

“Clever,” I conceded. “How is she?”

She blew out a long breath. “Messed up.”

I ran a hand through my hair. “This is my fault. I knew her father would go after her for this.”

Brianna sighed and patted my knee. “This was a disaster on hold, Logan. Eventually, something had to break.” She paused, a strange look crossing her face. “I admit, I didn’t see it happening like this, but that’s life.” She met my eyes. “How much do you love her?”

“With my entire soul.” I turned in my chair, fully meeting her serious gaze. “I know it’s only been a few weeks, but she’s everything I’ve spent my life looking for. She’s my future.” I had to swallow around the lump forming in my throat. “It kills me to know she’s down the hall hurting, and I’m stuck out here, not able to comfort her.”

“Would you change your life for her?”

It seemed like an odd question. “Change my life?”

“Give up your dreams if it was better for her?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Then you’re going to be fine.” She stood. “I know you thought your life changed last night, Logan, but hold on to your hat. It’s only the beginning.” She began to chuckle, enjoying some private joke. “I think right now, patience is in order.” She bent down and brushed a kiss to my head. “I have a meeting I have to get to. They’ll come get you in a minute.” She began to walk away. “Oh, and call her mother. She deserves to know Lottie is doing okay.”

She left me confused and dumbfounded. Brianna had a meeting? Brianna hated meetings and delegated the running of her little boutique to her manager. She admitted she liked her role as purchaser and left the rest to the people who knew what they were doing. And what was she talking about, when it came to changes? I hoped it meant Lottie was going to quit her job. With my new career, we’d be fine. She could find something she enjoyed or, even better, pursue the baking thing.

My name being called startled me, and I jumped to my feet. I followed the nurse to a small cubicle at the end of the hall where my “fiancée” was resting. I pushed open the door, stopping at the sight of Lottie. She was in the hospital bed, pale and worn-looking. Her eyes were shut, but it was obvious she wasn’t asleep. She was too tense for that. Monitors beeped, and there was an IV in her arm, fluid dripping slowly from the bag hanging beside her. I could see she’d been crying, a tissue crushed in her hand and her cheeks still damp.

I hurried to the bed, leaning over and cupping her cheek. “Lottie, baby, I’m here.”

Her eyes flew open, and she gasped, fresh tears pouring down her face. She gripped my wrist, the hold tight.

“Logan.”

The one word was filled with pain, and without another thought, I sat beside her, pulling her into my arms. She wept, her head buried in my neck, her body shaking with the force of her sobs. I rocked her, desperate to soothe, unsure what to do.

I began to hum one of her favorite songs. Almost instantly, she began to relax, her sobs slowing, her body easing in my arms. I stroked her hair and down her back in gentle passes, humming until she was quiet.