I Saw Him in Her Heart

I have a secret. When I touch someone, I see the face of the person they love most. Since Natalie moved in next door when we were seven, I always saw myself in her heart. At eighteen, when she held my hand—it was me. At twenty-two, when she proposed—it was me. On our wedding night, when she kissed me—it was still me. On the morning of our third anniversary, I fixed the hem of her dress. My fingers grazed her ankle. Out of habit, I closed my eyes. This time, I saw two faces. Mine. And some guy I'd never seen before. That night, Natalie's phone lit up. [Thanks for spending today with me, Natalie.] Twenty-one years. A hundred thousand touches. And for the first time, I was wrong. Chapter 1 I'd booked our anniversary dinner a month ago. I put on the suit Natalie Dillon once said looked best on me, then strapped on the watch she'd given me. By six, I was dressed, adjusting my cuff links in the mirror. My phone rang. "I have to leave for a business trip. I won't be home tonight." She sounded rushed. The call ended. For the first time, she hung up before I could. I stared at my reflection, one cuff link still undone. Then Corey called. "Guess I'll celebrate with you instead." Corey drove over and took me to dinner. When we pulled up outside the restaurant, I reached for the door. Then froze. Natalie sat at a table by the window. Across from her was some guy, maybe twenty-five or twenty-six, dimples flashing when he smiled. Natalie leaned over and wiped cream from the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief. She'd done that for me since we were eighteen. Corey saw them too. He shoved his door open, ready to storm in. I grabbed his arm. "Don't." "Who the hell is that?" "I don't know." Natalie came home around eleven, carrying red roses like she did every anniversary. After her shower, she wrapped her arms around me from behind and rested her chin on my shoulder. "Jake, I'm sorry about today. I'll make it up to you." I closed my eyes. Two faces overlapped. Mine. His. Split right down the middle. For the first time in twenty-one years, someone else was in her heart. After she fell asleep, I unlocked her phone. The passcode was still my birthday. She hadn't changed it. Ryan Leach's chat was pinned at the top. The messages went back six months. Work talk had slowly turned casual. [Received] had turned into [Good night.] One message from him said: [I'm in a bad mood today. I want something sweet.] She replied: [I'll grab a mille-feuille from the bakery downstairs.] Another said: [I tried that restaurant you recommended. Went alone. It wasn't good. Come with me next time.] The latest message was from tonight. [Natalie, thanks for spending today with me.] I set the phone down and lay back. She rolled over out of habit, curled into my arms, and mumbled in her sleep. "Who were you with today?" "A client." She hummed, holding me a little tighter. I didn't ask again. The next morning, before she left, she kissed my forehead. "Honey, I really couldn't get away yesterday. This weekend, let's do a spa getaway." Her smile hadn't changed. I looked at her for a second. "Okay." After she left, I folded the suit and shoved it to the back of the closet. Around noon, Corey called to check on me. The line went quiet for a few seconds. "Jake, you've been crazy about her since you were seven." "I know." "So what are you gonna do?" I looked out the window. The sky was clear. Not a cloud in sight. "I don't know." Chapter 2 I went to Natalie's office. In the elevator, I ran into Ryan first. He recognized me right away and held out his hand with a smile. "Mr. Jensen, I'm Ryan Leach, Ms. Dillon's assistant." Calm. Confident. Way too comfortable. He hit the button for our floor, then stepped back beside me. Halfway up, he took a call. "Natalie? She usually skips lunch. Just coffee. She's used to it." After he hung up, he smiled at me. "Here to have lunch with Natalie?" The elevator doors opened. I didn't answer. Natalie was in her office, buried in paperwork. I set the lunch container on her desk. "You don't eat lunch?" "Sometimes I get too busy." Ryan knocked and walked in with a stack of documents. His eyes flicked to the lunch box, and he smiled. "That's thoughtful. Natalie said she was craving baked ribs the other day, and you made them." My hand froze halfway to serving her one. Natalie kept her head down and ate. After Ryan left, it was just us. "He knows you pretty well." "Who?" "Mr. Leach. He knows you skip lunch. Knows you only drink coffee." She set down her fork. "Jake, he's my assistant. Knowing my work habits is part of his job." "Is it?" "What are you thinking now? My heart only has room for you." She sighed and went back to eating. That night, she worked until ten. I brought fruit into the study. Her phone screen lit up. Ryan had sent a selfie. Right in front of me, she flipped the phone facedown. "It's work." "I didn't ask." I set down the fruit and walked out. My hand stayed on the doorknob for two seconds. She never called me back. *** On Sunday, Natalie said she'd make up for our anniversary. At the restaurant, the hostess smiled. "Ms. Dillon, your usual table?" The second booth by the window. So she'd been here before. More than once. After we sat down, I looked at the empty seat across from her. "Have you brought someone else here?" She paused while pouring my water. "Clients. Why?" "Nothing. It's a nice table." When she came back from the restroom, she served me a rib. "Natalie, does it ever feel like someone's between us?" Her hand stopped for half a second as she cut the steak. Then she kept going. "Who? Why ask that out of nowhere?" "Nothing. Just wondering." She placed the steak on my plate. After dinner, her phone lit up. She angled away to reply. From the corner of my eye, I caught the screen. [Natalie, see you tomorrow.] She sent back a sticker. Then she locked her phone and took my hand. "Let's go." She led me forward. I looked down at our hands. Our fingers were still intertwined. Under the streetlights, our shadows stretched across the sidewalk, one behind the other. I thought back to the first time she held my hand like that. We were eighteen. Back then, every time I closed my eyes, I saw only my own face in her heart. Now, I closed my eyes and brushed my fingers over her wrist. The same two faces appeared. Mine. Ryan's. Neither one was winning. Natalie looked back at me. "Why'd you stop?" "Nothing." I caught up. She squeezed my hand. It felt natural. Just like it always had. But I knew. Nothing was the same anymore. Chapter 3 Natalie was working late in the study. At eleven, I brought her a glass of milk. The door was cracked open. She was on the phone, using a soft voice I hadn't heard in forever. "Yeah, get some sleep. We'll talk tomorrow. I miss you too." She hung up, looked over, and froze when she saw me in the doorway. "Why aren't you asleep?" "Do you always talk to your employees like that?" "I was talking normally. Don't overthink it." I said nothing. Just turned and walked away. A second later, the study door clicked shut. She'd never closed it before. I waited twenty minutes. When she walked into the bedroom and saw I was still awake— "Natalie, I need to tell you something. "I have an ability. I've had it since I was a kid. Whenever I touch someone, I see the face of the person they love most." She stopped halfway through taking off her jacket. "The first time I touched you, when we were seven, I saw myself. "When you held my hand at eighteen, I saw myself. "When you proposed, I saw myself. "On the morning of our third anniversary, I touched your ankle and saw two faces. "Mine. And Ryan's." She stayed quiet for a long time. Then she laughed. "You really do have an imagination. Getting bored staying home by yourself?" "I'm not joking. Every word is true." Her smile disappeared. "Are you under too much stress? Maybe you should see a doctor." I stood and took her hand. "Let me touch you. Right now. Close your eyes and think of one person. I'll tell you who's in your heart." She pulled her hand back. Not hard. Just final. "Jake Jensen, enough. If you have a problem with Ryan, say it to me. He has a girlfriend. Stop making stuff up. It's not fair to him." She grabbed her jacket and walked out. I stood there for a long time, my hand still frozen where hers had been. *** Natalie came home at two in the morning, smelling like alcohol. I kept my eyes closed and pretended to be asleep. She climbed into bed as quietly as she could. After a while, she slid into my arms. I closed my eyes. Only one face appeared. Ryan's. Mine was gone. She pulled my hand around her waist, her breath warm against my ear. I'd known her for twenty-one years. For the first time, I wasn't anywhere in her heart. I gently moved my hand away. She mumbled, "Don't." When her breathing evened out, I turned over and faced the other way. Just before dawn, I got up, packed a small suitcase, and moved into the guest room. At breakfast, Natalie noticed my slippers outside the door. "Why'd you sleep in there?" "Couldn't sleep. Didn't want to keep you up." She hummed and went back to her phone. She didn't ask anything else. Three days after I moved into the guest room, my medical report came back. There was a growth in my stomach. The doctor wanted more tests. I tucked the report into my journal and wrote one line on a blank page. [When I needed her most, there was no room left for me in her heart.] I went to Natalie's office. Downstairs, Ryan was opening the passenger door for her. She ducked her head and got in. She used to sit there only when I drove. Before Ryan got in, he raised a hand to shield her head from the doorframe. That used to be my thing. I told the driver, "Take me back." The medical report pressed against my hand inside my bag. I never called out to stop them. *** Natalie came home that evening. I was waiting in the living room. "I went to your office today." She kept changing her shoes. "Why didn't you come up?" "If I had, what was I supposed to say?" She looked at me, irritation creeping across her face. "What's wrong now?" "I saw you in his passenger seat. I saw him shield your head getting into the car. Just like I used to." She sighed. "Jake, he's my assistant. Holding the door is basic courtesy. You weren't like this before. You used to be more understanding." "Understanding? So the things you only did with me, you can do with someone else now, and I'm not supposed to care? If I do, I'm the unreasonable one?" She rubbed her forehead. "I'm tired. I don't want to argue." She walked into the study and closed the door. I used to let a lot of things slide. Now I was just tired. Chapter 4 I asked her to come with me to the hospital for my test results. She replied with one word. [Okay.] But at seven the next morning, another message came in. [Last-minute business trip. I'll be back the day after tomorrow. If you're not feeling well, have the driver take you. Love you, Natalie.] I called her. Her phone was off. So I called the company's front desk. The receptionist said Natalie wasn't scheduled to leave on any business trips that day. I took a cab to the hospital alone. In the hallway, one wife straightened her husband's scarf. Another helped her husband walk. And me? I was by myself. The doctor said there was a tumor in my stomach. They needed a biopsy as soon as possible. "Is your family here?" "I'll sign the paperwork myself." The doctor looked at me. "Where's your wife?" "On a business trip." She didn't ask anything else. While I waited for the results, I found one of Ryan's posts. A photo collage of an ocean sunset. The caption read: [Someone said the ocean is the best cure for stress. Got dragged here today. Having a great boss really hits different.] In the bottom-right corner of the last photo was a woman's hand. A ring sat on her left ring finger. It matched the one on mine. Around ten that night, the pain in my stomach became unbearable. I took a cab to the ER alone. A nurse rushed me into the operating room. "The tumor ruptured. You're bleeding internally," the doctor said. "We need to operate right now." "Has your family arrived?" "I'll sign." The surgery was over by three in the morning. I sat alone in the hallway, calling Natalie again and again. Her phone stayed off. In the end, I sent a text. [Natalie, something happened. Please come back.] She didn't call until the next afternoon. I could hear waves and a car engine in the background. "I just got off the plane. What happened?" I swallowed the pain. "It's already taken care of." "Good. I'll be home tonight. I'll bring you some seafood." Natalie came home that evening. I sat alone on the couch in the dark. "Why didn't you turn on the lights?" She dropped a bag of seafood on the dining table like it was nothing. "Got you seafood for tomorrow." I didn't answer. She came over and sat beside me. When she saw how pale I was, she reached for my forehead. I leaned away. "I have something to tell you. They found—" Her phone rang. Ryan's ringtone. She glanced at the screen. I knew that look too well. She lifted a hand, telling me to wait. Then she answered right away. "What's wrong?" His voice was low, but I was close enough to hear every word. "Natalie... I think I have a fever. I feel weak. Could you..." "Did you check your temperature? How high?" "One-oh-one point three." She stood and headed for the door. "Wait for me. I'll be right there." Halfway there, she finally remembered I was still in the room. "Jake, Ryan has a fever. He's home alone. No one's there to take care of him. I'm going to check on him. I'll be back soon. We can talk later." The words I wanted to say died in my throat. I listened to her footsteps fade toward the elevator. The apartment went quiet. The bag of seafood still sat on the table. Whatever I had left for her was gone. *** Third-Person POV The next morning, Natalie rushed home. A weird, uneasy feeling sat heavy in her chest. The second she opened the door, her eyes locked on the surgical consent form on the coffee table. She froze.