Seven Heartbeats to Forever

It was the day Jessica Goldenfold got the International Wealth Club Charity Award. My doctor pronounced me dead, for I could not afford the artificial heart needed for my survival.

The show's host asked Jessica to call the one whom she had the most regret about. She called my number.

I picked it up. She asked, "Do you ever regret leaving me for money?"

I stared at the obscene bill for the artificial heart. Then, I chuckled. "You're a rich girl, Jessica. How about a loan of 30 grand?"

She killed the call. I watched her telling everyone in front of the cameras, "No more regrets."

She had no idea at all. She had no idea that I was the one who gave my heart to her when she had heart failure. I did it behind her back.

The Past

Once the live show was over, I got a transfer. Thirty grand from Jessica Goldenfold. That was surprising. I had no idea what to feel about this.

I used that money to pay off my bills, then I heard a familiar voice coming from outside. Through the crack of the door I looked, and I saw Jessica.

She was as beautiful as I remembered, but the one beside her was no longer me. She came straight to the hospital right after the award ceremony, and she didn't even get to change her clothes.

All because her husband's stomach protested. I saw her gently rubbing Christopher Landton's stomach to relieve his pain. I hung my head low and tried to pretend I hadn't seen anything.

Quietly, I pulled the door shut, but Jessica yanked it back before I knew it. That made me jump. I raised my head and met her eyes. She was scanning me, but the look in her eyes was colder than any biting wind.

"Been a while. Aren't you going to say hi?"

I stared at her and opened my mouth. Yes, I had so much I wanted to talk about, but all I said was, "A loan of 45 grand this time?"

That made her freeze, and then flames of fury melted some of her frigidity. She grabbed my hand. "We've gone seven years without seeing each other, and that's all you have to say to me?"

The needle marks on my wrists were shooting pain up my arm. I took a deep breath and said quietly, "You're rich, Ms. Goldenfold. If you won't lend me any money, Mr. Landton might get the wrong message."

That made her freeze again. There was something in her eyes. Something more than emotions. She was about to say something, but Christopher grabbed her hand. "Is that your ex-husband, my love?"

He looked at me and, with pity dripping from his voice, said, "What can you do with 45 grand? The suit Jess gets me alone cost 75 thousand. Pity you failed to treasure her, Mr. Shawlesque. But lucky me. If you hadn't so heartlessly abandoned her, I'd never have