22. Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

Rory

Two weeks have passed, and we've finally been able to go through all the documents Aidan provided.

I've had to work, but I've spent every night at Samuel's. After what happened the day he opened up to me, I couldn't leave him, and he had the same problem. For which I was glad because I didn't want to leave him alone. Not after he opened himself to me, fearing my rejection and judgement. My feelings for him had grown quickly, and even faster since that day.

Now, sitting in the car, we're waiting for the man who received John's heart to come out of his building. I keep hold of Samuel's hand, because today is going to be hard.

This is it. This is when I say goodbye.

Am I ready to let go? Am I ready to move forward with the man sitting next to me? Is he ready to work on his trauma and build something with me?

Is it too fast? We've both suffered the loss of people we loved. We know life is a big question mark, and we don't know when the end is near. So maybe we are rushing, but what if the time we have is just a blink? Do we want to lose a chance to be together because it's too early, or because we don't know each other enough?

What we went through together, looking for John, made us close and open to each other. We know the deepest parts of one another, so what's left to understand is the small stuff. The ‘insignificant' parts.

A squeeze of my hand has me turning towards Samuel, and I try to smile, but fall short.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his eyes telling me how worried he is about me.

"Yeah . . . No? I don't know." I'm a confused mess. I can't wait to meet the guy, and maybe have the chance to talk to him like we did with the others, but at the same time, I'm not ready.

"Everything is going to be fine," he says to me. I remember saying the same to him a week ago, and it pulls a thin smile out of me.

"This is my last chance to say goodbye to John." I'm not sure I'll be able to keep myself in check and not reach out to this person, when this is my last chance to find pieces of John left in this world.

"I know, baby," Samuel says, while pulling me close and putting his arms around me. I love his touch. I crave it. With a simple caress, he's able to settle my spiralling feelings.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to stop myself from reaching out to him. From telling him everything."

"While I understand your need, it's not right for that person to be ambushed by us. We shouldn't even be aware of his condition, and we shouldn't approach him. While a part of John is still here, that man doesn't know you—or John."

"It's just that I . . ." But I'm not sure how to continue because everything he says is true. I don't want to make someone uncomfortable by peeking into their life. I just want to say goodbye.

"Babe?"

"You're right. I'll keep the promise I made, and I won't approach him directly. However, I'll do my best to talk to him. Hearing how John changed his life . . . I need to hear that." I look at him, trying to convey how much I need this, and how high is the chance that I'll break the rules.

"I know, babe," he says, pulling me closer and kissing the top of my head. I let my weight go, sure he'll catch me, and just like I thought, his arms grip me even tighter and my upper body is now flush with his.

I owe him everything I have now. I can't thank him enough for giving me John back, for giving back the memories I have of him, and for giving me back a life I want to live in full.

"Thank you," I whisper, when he turns my face up and leans in for a kiss. When our lips touch, my love for him grows a tiny bit more. I hope it'll continue to grow until we're both old and grey. That thought pulls at my lips, and even at this moment when I'm saying goodbye to John, I'm still able to smile.

I should thank John for bringing Samuel into my life, but wouldn't that be insensitive of me? However, if it wasn't for my need to find John, I wouldn't have had the chance to meet Samuel.

The door of the house we are watching opens, and a young man of around thirty saunters out, his smile as big as the house itself. He is a better version of the man we saw in the pictures. His skin is a healthy colour, his eyes are no longer sunken in.

And it's all thanks to John.

Tears spring to my eyes, and I don't fight them. They're a mix of pain and pride.

Sam kisses the top of my head again and then pulls away. He hands me a tissue and I use it to wipe my eyes and nose.

"Let's go," he says when I'm done. Then he gets out of the car.

I watch him in case he needs help, but his hip isn't giving him grief today, and I'm glad. Maybe one day he'll be able to walk without a limp, do the things he used to do, and maybe even go back to work.

Then we wander around, following the man. We walk close together, our arms brushing against each other. I wish I could take his hand to gain strength from his touch.

The man seems to know everyone, and probably does, as we are in another small village in the north of England. We pretend to stop and look at buildings or shops while we follow him around. This is the first time since Samuel agreed to help me find John that I feel like a stalker.

This time I really want to talk with this person. The person who received John's heart. I look at him, searching and hoping for a glimpse of John. I must be going mad.

His name is Matthew. He doesn't look like John, but some of his mannerisms remind me of him. He used to laugh so much, and his smile was ever-present on his face. Even when I was at my worst, he could always lift me up with his smiles. Matthew has the same smile—contagious, uplifting, and kind. It pushes me to want to know more about him.

When he heads to the park, my hope of talking to him grows exponentially. If he sits somewhere, I'll have the chance to approach him and hopefully lead the conversation to where I want it to go. I know that my behaviour is incorrect, and that I shouldn't be here doing this, but at the same time, knowing the people John helped makes his loss a little less painful, and makes his death a little more bearable.

Whitby is one of the historical places in the north of England, so I'll be able to coax him to talk while pretending to be a tourist.

As soon as he sits down, I grab Samuel's hand to make him go faster. It's now or never. I stop when he resists my pull and I turn around to see his surprise. He knows how important today is for me.

"You promised to respect the rules," he says.

I look at him, surprised, and open my mouth to say something, but he places a finger on my lips.

"Let me do it for you."

Oh, my God. I love him. I stop, because it's too soon, but yeah . . . I do love him. He's given me more than I was expecting, without even having to ask. I want to kiss him so badly, but we're in the middle of the park, and we already have eyes on us. I'm only able to nod, because if I open my mouth, I'll tell him about my recent discovery. I'll tell him I love him.

He removes his fingers, but not before I press a kiss on them.

He walks over to the man and begins talking to him. I don't hear what he's saying, because I'm too focused on how beautiful Sam looks talking to him. How his smile is not as sad as it was before. And how his features have somehow taken a gentler note that suits him better than that dark cloud he always had hovering over him.

"Ro?"

I focus on the situation when he calls me to join them.

"Matthew here was telling me that there are a lot of different things to see. Some that are not publicised as much as the usual sites."

"Yeah?" I mumble, looking at the man who's here only because of John's heart.

"Yes, so many lovely places," Matthew says, and smiles, and somehow, his smile reminds me of John.

Reminds me of his beautiful face looking down at me, caressing my hair, while I was lying over his legs on the sofa. The memories are so vivid. I can smell his aftershave, and his hands on me are real. My eyes water, but I smile back.

"Hi, I'm Rory," I say, while stretching out my hand to shake Matthew's.

He looks at me, and then, with a smile, he takes it. "Matthew," he says, and another smile curves his lips.

"Are you from around here?"

"Yes, I was born and bred here. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. Not now that I have the chance to enjoy this place as much as I want."

"What do you mean?" I ask, even if I know very well why he's saying that.

"I was sick for a while."

Please, please continue, I pray.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Samuel jumps in when he notices that I'm unable to speak.

"I had dilated cardiomyopathy."

We look at him, then at each other, and we hear Matthew laughing.

"That's the face I made when the doctor shared the diagnosis with me." He chuckles, then continues. "I was suffering from fatigue, shortness of breath, and I had this pounding in my heart, but I thought I was only tired and under stress. You know, life, work, and problems that always seem unsolvable. Little did I know." He chuckles again, but this time he has a different tone, as though the pain is seeping through.

It must have been a difficult time for him.

"So, what's dilated cardiomyopathy?" Samuel asks, and I look at him, trying to convey with a look how grateful I am that he's here.

"Basically, it's a muscle disease of the heart. It makes the ventricles in the heart become thin and grow larger. That makes it difficult for the heart to pump blood to the rest of the body."

"That sounds dangerous," Samuel says again.

My eyes can't leave Matthew right now.

"It was. But I'm okay now," he says, waving a hand.

"Did they find a cure?" I ask this time, because I can't let the conversation go.

"No," he says. "I had to have a heart transplant."

I can't imagine being told something like that and being able to cope with it.

"My life was in danger, and there was nothing anyone could do. It was like I'd been sentenced to death, without knowing when my last breath was going to be." He seems so detached now, as if he's talking about someone else.

Fuck! That must have been scary.

No one talks for a bit and then he resumes, probably lost to the memories and not even aware we're still here, listening to every word coming out of his mouth. Me, especially, waiting to get a final glimpse of the man I loved.

"My family. They were devastated. Waiting for a transplant is agony. You desperately wait for the organ to arrive, and for the medics to bring the news. But they can't reassure you that the organ will be here in time to save your life."

That must have been a nightmare. I can't even imagine watching the person I love slowly die without being able to do anything.

"I saw so many people lose their lives while waiting for an organ that never arrived. Few people are aware of how organs can save other people's lives. I was lucky." His smile is both sad and grateful.

"You were lucky, then."

"Yes, I was. I'm grateful to John's parents, because they made the selfless decision to help others."

While I can't think well of John's parents, because of what they put me through when he died, I have to admit that what they did by donating his organs was amazing.

"John?" I ask.

"That's the name of the person I owe my life to."

His name on my lips has another sound now. There is still longing, thoughts of wishing for a life together, and the desire to have him here with me, even for a second. Just so I can touch him and tell him I still love him, but also that I found someone else. Someone as good as John was, and someone that places me before him, just like he did.

Without John, I would have never met Samuel. My heart aches at the thought, because in the time we've spent together, with him helping me move on, he was able to give me strength. To give me hope. And to help me open my heart again.

In the short time we've spent together, I've fallen in love with him.

I can't believe it happened, and I believe even less that it happened while I was looking for my lost love. However, his presence, kindness, and need to help others has made my heart sing again. Seeing him broken, crying for a mistake he didn't make, and devoting himself to a life of penance while trying to make other people's lives better. That' what made me fall in love with him.

"Can you believe I didn't even notice at first, and by the time I did, I needed a new heart?"

Matthew's voice brings me back from my thoughts.

"We always think that something bad can't happen to us," I say. We never know when life will decide to be a bitch and leave us with only half a heart. Or with the need for a new one.

"That's why I've decided to share my story and start a campaign to support the opt-out system for organ donation. Losing someone we love is devastating, but knowing that someone was saved and living a new life thanks to their organs helps. We also have created a non-profit organisation called John's Gift to increase the number of organ and blood donors across the UK. More people are aware of the importance of telling their family and friends they wish to donate. That will give more people the chance to receive an organ and live a life they couldn't have had before the transplant."

"John's Gift?"

"Yes, I wanted to honour him. Also, I never want to forget what he did for me and what he gave back. I owe him my life and want everyone to know about it."

Tears are now running down my face. I can't stop, because while I'm in pain, I'm also pleased that he will continue to live through this man. A man who's accepted this organ like the gift it is and is doing his best to help others receive the same miracle.

"John would be happy about this."

"I'm sure he is," Matthews says, placing a hand over his heart.

I look at him through watery eyes, wishing I could do the same. To hear John's heart beating for the last time—even if it's inside Matthew's body. However, to do that, I have to tell him my story, and break the promise I made to Samuel. And that's never going to happen.

He gave me more than I could have hoped for before meeting him, and in return, he only asked for me to respect his rules, and that's what I'm going to do.

"Rory lost someone, and his organs were donated as well," Samuel says to Matthew. He keeps his eyes on me, and smiles at me when my eyes dart to him, when his words hit me.

"I'm sorry for your loss, but I'm glad someone got to live because of him."

"I'm glad as well," I say to Matthew.

He walks towards me, and I look at him with uncertainty, because I'm not sure what his intentions are.

"Thank you for sharing him with the world," he says, then takes my hand and places it on his chest right above his heart.

John's heart.

And it's beating, strong and beautiful, just like it did when it was inside John. I hear the sound through my hand, and more tears run down on my face. Then Matthew hugs me, and I let him, imagining that the arms pulling me in and keeping me close are John's.

Then, I whisper the only thing I've wanted to say to him since I lost him.

"I love you. Goodbye."

Matthew's arms tighten around me for a few seconds, and then he lets me go.

I take a step back and wipe my face with the sleeves of my shirt.

"Thank you," I say to him, when I'm able to talk.

"No, thank you," he says. "It's only because of people like you I'm alive."

A tissue appears in front of me, and I turn my head to find Samuel close to me. I take it and look at the strong, beautiful man in front of me, conveying with my eyes how grateful I am for what he did. Even his eyes are wet. It must have been hard for him as well.

"Are you okay?" he asks, and I nod before replying.

"Yeah, I am. Thank you."

He doesn't acknowledge my thanks, but places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes for a second. His touch helps me, like it usually does, to settle my whirling emotions.

Matthew walks back to the bench he was sitting on before we arrived, and leaves us alone, probably understanding how difficult this moment is for me.

I walk into Samuel's arms, not worrying about what other people may think, because my need to have him wrapped around me is too strong to fight. I sigh in relief when his arms encircle me, pulling me close to him. I inhale the scent of his aftershave, and his own scent underneath invades my senses and my swirling mind. I'm finally beginning to calm down.

"I'm here until you need me."

"I'll always need you."

"Then you'll always have me."

I raise my head until our eyes meet, and I wish I could kiss him. Instead, in this open space, with eyes upon us, I try to convey my feelings through my eyes, until he smiles and nods.

He takes the tissue I'm gripping and cleans my face with gentle and caring touches. Once he's done, he kisses my cheek and takes a step back.

"Let's go."

"Yeah." I nod again.

We turn together toward Matthew, and he's looking at us and smiling.

"Thank you for sharing your story with us," Samuel says.

"Thank you for letting me to listen to your heart," I add.

He waves me off, as though he didn't do anything special, and for him, that may be the case. But for me . . . He gave me back John and all the beautiful memories we had together. My mind is no longer full of the bad days after the accident, or the long wait and subsequent search for my chance to finally say goodbye. I have the memories of when we met, when we kissed for the first time, when he asked me to live with him. Those are the memories I want.

"Bye," we say to him, and then walk away.

Samuel never leaves my side, and his arm stays around my shoulders until we reach the car. Once there, he opens my door and stands motionless, waiting for me to get in. I turn around to look at him, and on impulse, get closer to him.

"I love you," I say, before planting a chaste kiss on his lips. I don't wait for him to say anything. Instead, I turn around and enter the car. I let my body relax and the tiredness overtake me.

By the time Samuel reaches the other side of the car, I'm already asleep.