Dear Heart, You Screwed Me(96)



“Is everything okay?” I asked, I couldn’t help the panic that was coursing through me.

“Yes, everything is fine,” she gave me a reassuring smile before her eyes were back on the screen.

“Is something wrong with her heart?” Killian asked, his own voice full of concern now. His hand was still clinging to mine, but now he squeezed it tighter.

“There seems to be a slight flicker on it, it could be nothing but it’s very hard to get a clear look as she is fidgeting,” a small laugh left her, which didn’t seem to match the stern look on her face.

I turned to face Killian, my eyes scanned his face trying to read his expression.

“Killian, what is it?” I whispered, my skin pricking in fear. A shiver dancing down my spine.

He tore his eyes from the screen, looking down at me.

“I have heart issues, well… had heart issues,” his voice was low before looking back at Kyra. “I didn’t mention anything because of my transplant. When I had my first daughter, twenty-one years ago, I was as healthy as a horse.” His voice faltered for a moment, “but three years ago, I fell ill with a viral infection which caused cardiomyopathy.” He took a sharp intake of breath; his eyes fell back to me as I looked at him wide-eyed.

“What’s that?” I whispered, suddenly terrified for him and our baby.

“It’s a disease of the heart muscle… never had heart issues until I got unwell. Doctor said it was the viral infection that caused it.” Killian’s head dropped, “we tried to manage it, but that all changed very quickly and suddenly. I was in London on business when I fell extremely ill. I was admitted into hospital and before I knew it, I was on the transplant list.” He stopped talking suddenly when I gasped.

“Your scar,” I whispered.

He nodded. “I got lucky…” he rubbed his lips together.

“Killian,” Kyra’s voice distracted us, “I need you to write all this down for me please.” She said to him before she turned to face me, “we will rebook you in for a weeks’ time, hopefully madam will play ball and please try not to worry Reese, I know it’s easier said than done but what Killian had was caused by a viral infection, not through genetics. But if when we do your next scan the flicker is still there then we will book you a cardiology appointment.”

I nodded, my throat burning as I tried to ignore the fear that was flooding through me now. I didn’t want to focus on what might be wrong with our daughter’s heart, because I would just spend the next week panicking and googling it. And google is not the place to go when it comes to wanting to know medical information.

I was concerned for Killian. I wanted to ask how he was, what he went through was traumatising. I should have asked him before all of this, but how could I? I felt out of place asking him something so personal. Even though I was pregnant with his child, I felt like I had no right to ask him.

We sat in the car, neither of us saying a word. I felt numb. I had so many questions I wanted to ask but I just couldn’t muster the words. I let out a heavy sigh as Killian pulled up outside a three-storey townhouse. “What’s wrong?” he turned the car off, turning the top half of his body to face me. My eyes pinned to him, my heart racing.

“Talk to me,” he whispered as he leant across the centre of the car, resting his hand on my thigh.

“I’m freaking out a little,” I admitted, my voice shaky as the words left me.

“About the baby?”

I nodded, “But not just about the baby. I’m also freaking out about you. Why didn’t you tell me?” my words came out bitter, I didn’t intend for them to.

“Because I didn’t want to burden you with that.” He smiled softly, his eyes creasing slightly in the corner. I felt a surge of energy course through me as his fingers skimmed along the material of my dress on my thigh.

“Killian, you would never burden me. You must have been terrified,” my breath caught.

“I have never been more scared than I was back then. I was alone, I honestly never thought I was going to be lucky enough to get my transplant.” I heard his voice crack, his eyes falling from mine as he looked to his lap. He scrunched his eyes shut; I could feel the emotions coursing through them. I could see how hard this was for him to talk about.

“You okay?” I asked, now it was my time to comfort him. I leaned over, wrapping my arms around his neck and let him bury his face in my hair.

He didn’t answer, just held me tightly until he was ready to let me go.

I looked through the car window in awe at the house in front of us. The front door was cream, with a square piece of glass. Six steps led to the front door, black railings running either side of it. The beautiful, Georgian glass sash windows made me smile. It was pretty, so understated but so prestigious.

“Where are we?” I asked as Killian helped me out of his Porsche.

“Greenwich Village,” he smirked, his lips twitching as he had a childish glint in his eye.

“Okay… and why are we here?” I stood at the bottom of the steps and looked up and the spectacular house.

“Because…” he smiled, standing behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist, his large hands cradling my small bump. I heard the breath catch in the back of my throat, my skin alight and smothering in goosebumps at having him so close. He rested his chin on my shoulder and pressed his lips to the shell of my ear, “this is your new house, or ours if you wanted to move in with me,” he joked, letting go of me and pulling a single gold key out of his suit trouser pocket.

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