“I know how hard it is for him, Damian. Truly. I get it. That’s why I can’t do this to him.”
He looked at me confused. “What?”
“I’m dying, Damian. I know I don’t have long, and I don’t want to put him through that. I don’t want him to have to watch me suffer, because it will break his heart.”
“You’re sitting here worrying about his heart breaking when yours is literally falling apart. If that’s not love, then I don’t know what is. He should be here.”
“I can’t do that to him…I’m sorry, Damian. I can’t have him watch me die.”
Damian’s brows knitted as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he sat down in a chair.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Sitting.”
“Why?”
“So you aren’t alone.”
“Dam—”
“I get it. You want to protect him from hurting. It’s noble. Stupid as fuck if you ask me, but noble. But that doesn’t mean you deserve to be alone. If you’re dying, you’re dying. It’s shitty and it’s scary and fucked-up because I could name a million people who deserve to die more than you do. The world is a messed-up place, and it shits on good people. I’m sorry it’s doing this to you, Aaliyah, but you’re not going to do this shit alone. All right? I’m going to sit here and,” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a comic book. “I’m going to read you comics because that’s what Connor would do.”
“Damian. You don’t have to stay here. Really. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not, and that’s okay. I don’t need you to be fine. I just need you to let me read to you right now, so you’re not alone.”
“Loo—”
“Aaliyah,” he said with a controlled, deep tone. “Just listen.”
I sighed, and I did as he said.
Twenty-five days.
Damian showed up for twenty-five days straight to read to me, making sure I wasn’t alone. Sometimes, I wanted to ask him how Connor had been doing, but I didn’t have the guts to push out the words. I missed him too much to allow myself to ask.
42
Connor
Twenty-five days.
I’d been sitting in the lobby of the hospital since Damian informed me that Aaliyah had been admitted. She wanted nothing to do with me, so Damian showed up each day to sit with her. She had no clue that I was waiting right outside of her room, but I needed to be close, even if she didn’t know. I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
All I needed was for her to be okay. I needed her to recover, to come back to me whole again.
Each night, Damian would show up and give me an update on Aaliyah’s condition, and I’d give him new comic books to read to her. He’d tell me about how she was a fighter, and even though it was clear she was struggling, she’d try to keep her spirits high.
He’d tell me that she missed me—not that she said that, but he could tell.
I figured he told me that because he knew I needed to hear it, not because it was true. But, fuck, I’d hoped it was true.
As I waited one night for an update on Aaliyah, I received an email from Maiv Khang.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Article Approval
Hello Connor,
I hope you are well. Attached is the article written by Aaliyah Winters on your behalf. I am sending it to have you look over it to give your approval as we move forward with publishing the September issue. Thank you for taking the time to be interview. Passion appreciates your kindness and openness during this whole process.
Let me know your thoughts and if you have any concerns or issues, but after reading the article myself, I doubt there will be any complaints.
-Maiv
P.S. I attached some of the pictures from the photo shoot. The one with her looking at you is my favorite. Between you and me, I despise men. Thank you for proving to me, and Aaliyah, that some men are worth it.
I opened the pictures attached to the email, and my heart almost burst when I saw Aaliyah and me together, wrapped in one another’s arms, smiling and laughing. The world froze in those images, and all I wanted to do was create more moments like those ones. I need more time with her. I needed more time with us.
After I stared at the photographs for way too long, I went ahead and opened the article, allowing myself to fall deeply into the words Aaliyah created for me.
The Modern Day Gent:
My Weeks with Connor Roe, by Aaliyah Winters
Connor smiles as he takes a sip of his coffee.
It’s our third day meeting after he agreed to do this interview, and everything about him expresses the fact that he doesn’t realize how powerful he is—in the best of ways. He sits back in his chair with his right leg resting across his left knee. His broad shoulders are fully relaxed, showing his comfort.
His coffee has a splash of coconut milk and three sugar cubes—never two, never four.
He has nothing less than an approachable feel to him. It’s refreshing to see how calm and easygoing he is in a city that’s always moving at the speed of light to reach the next big thing. Connor Roe isn’t in a hurry. He takes it slow. He never checks his watch to see the time, as if there is nothing more important than the present moment.
That’s my biggest take away from my weeks spent with Connor—he’s a man who lives in the moment. And every moment with him, one dreams to hold onto for eternity. When the waitress brings our breakfast items, she stumbles a bit, and the bowl of oatmeal almost goes crashing to the floor. Connor moves swiftly, alert and attentive, catching the bowl in his hands at a record speed. Not even spilling a drop or burning his hands. The waitress blushes, growing timid from embarrassment, but Connor gives her that award-winning smile and easies her anxiety.
“No worries,” he states, soothing her shame. She blushes some more—a normal effect of being around this man.
No worries—a motto I’ve quickly picked up from the modern-day gentleman.
Connor believes in the magic of giving back to the world. He gives more than he takes, he fights for others more than he fights for himself. He pushes himself day in and day out to create a better life for those who weren’t born into wealth and privilege. He dreams of a world where the elderly are treated fairly, where lower-income individuals never have to worry about how to pay their rent, and where foster children never for a second have to feel lonely.
He dreams of a world where no kid goes hungry. No single mother is left without electricity. No elderly is left abused and alone.
From his charity involvement with Adopt a Grandparent, Twisted Food Trucks (a program that offers free lunches to children in the summertime), and A.C.T.L. (act, care, teach, love), Connor Roe pushes for a better tomorrow by focusing on the issues of today.
He fights the good fight, day in and day out. He’s the definition of a good man, which is why I must say, he’s not only New York’s modern-day gentleman with so much Southern charm—he’s this generation’s superhero. A doer of good. A giver of hope. A masterpiece of human existence.
I know what you’re probably thinking, because I thought it at first, too. He’s too good to be true. There must be a flaw that he holds somewhere within him, and I am here to tell you the facts about that: no flaws detected.
Not. A. Single. One.
Connor Roe is built by faith, powered by love. Every act he creates comes from a genuine place of care and gentleness. Even when he is afraid, his fear is due to his heart being overpowered with love. That isn’t a flaw by any means—that is Roe’s superpower—his power is to love.
If you ever get the chance to cross paths with Connor Roe, he’ll give you love. Even if it’s only for a moment’s time. A flash of love, if you will. He’ll hold the door open for you, and he’ll offer to pay for the coffee cup of the customer behind him. He’ll tell you really bad jokes that make you laugh so hard. He’ll listen to every story you bring to him—e
ven if it’s incohesive. He’ll hug you when you need it, and even when you don’t. He’ll look at you as if you are both the sunrise and sunset.
He’ll be your friend when you have no one to talk to. He’ll be your anchor when you feel as if you’re floating away. He’ll make you smile.
My gosh, will you smile.
That’s the superpower he gives to this world. He creates millions of smiles in a society built on struggles and fears. He cherishes every single person, every single life, and he makes it impossible to not fall head-over-heels in love with him.
By the end of our time together, I am a victim of his powers. I fall, and I fall with ease and confidence, because I know at the end of the day, no matter what, he will catch me.
In his arms, I am safe.
In his arms, I am loved.
And in his arms, I love.
I am overwhelming in love with this superhero of mine.
Connor Roe is many things: a powerful businessman, a from rags-to-riches Cinderella story, and a force to be reckon with in the real estate world. Yet the best thing that he is?
Love.
Connor Roe is love.
Anyone who crosses paths with his love, will never be the same again. I know I won’t.
Connor smiles as he takes another sip of his coffee.
And I cannot help but smile back as I take a sip of my own.
-AW, Senior Editor
She loved me.
The article was submitted after I walked away from her, and still, she loved me.
Loves me.
Present tense.
After reading said article, I took a trip that I knew I had to take. I couldn’t go home and crawl into a bed where Aaliyah hadn’t been any longer. I needed help from someone bigger than me, bigger than the doctors, bigger than life.
“Hi there,” I breathed out lowering myself, down in front of Grant’s tombstone. “I know we’ve only met briefly, but I know how much you mean to Aaliyah, so I figured I should give this conversation a go. Um, she’s not doing too well, Grant,” I said, sniffling as the words left my mouth. Speaking them out loud made it even more real that Aaliyah was suffering. “Our girl’s not in good shape. And I’m fucking terrified. She doesn’t want me near her. She doesn’t want anything to do with me, and I can’t blame her. I knew how much it hurt her to have people walk away, and I was a coward the moment things got hard. The moment things were tough, I was a chickenshit. I can’t take that back, and I can’t change the way I behaved but, you gotta believe me, Grant. I’m sorry for what I did.”
I brushed my thumb against the bridge of my nose. “And I know you don’t own me any favors, and I give you the right to hate me as much as she hates me. But here I am…because I need your help. You’re the closest thing to a father figure that Aaliyah has, so I am here to ask you something very important. You see, once this is over, once Aaliyah comes out on the other side of this, I’m going to ask her to be my wife. I have no doubt that she’s the woman I want beside me for the rest of our time on this planet. No matter how long that might be. Which means, I need her to come out of this, Grant. Even if she hates me for a while, I’m not quitting on this, I’m not quitting on us. I’m staying. Do you hear me? Even when I’m scared, I’m staying.
“So, I need your help. I know you probably miss her, but I need you to hold off for a bit, okay? This is me asking you permission for her hand in marriage. I want to marry her, Grant, so I’m begging you, please…” I took a deep breath as I kneeled down in prayer. I placed my hand against the engraved stone and whispered as the winds brushed against my skin, as tears fell down my eyes, as every part of me began to tremble in fear. “Please Grant…Please…” I cleared my throat and softly said, “Please don’t take her yet.”
After I finished my conversation with Grant, I headed to my car, where Luis was waiting to drive me home.
“You okay, Connor?” he asked me.
“No,” I replied.
I’d never be okay if she wasn’t.
Before he could reply, my phone began ringing and Damian’s name flashed on the screen. Within seconds I answered. “Hey, what’s up?”
“You need to get back to the hospital, Connor. Fast.”
I swore Luis could’ve driven faster, but he did the best he could. My mind couldn’t stop the panic from what was happening to Aaliyah. Damian sounded nervous on the phone. Had things become worse? Was she slipping away? Was I losing her?
Please, don’t let me lose her. Not like this. Not now.
I darted out of the backseat of the car, straight toward the hospital building without even closing the door behind me. I couldn’t waste a second more not knowing about Aaliyah’s condition.
The second I hit the lobby, Damian was waiting for me. He stood up from a chair and walked in my direction.
“What is it? What’s happening? Is she okay? Is she…” I swallowed hard as tears burned at the back of my eyes. “Did she…?”
Die? Was she gone? Fuck, I couldn’t breathe. If she was gone…if she was longer…
“Dude. Calm down. Relax.” Damian placed his hands against my shoulders and locked his dark eyes with mine. Then the corner of his mouth twitch and it turned up into a grin. “They found one.”
“What?”
“They found Aaliyah a heart.”
43
Aaliyah
A heart.
A heart for me.
Damian was there when Dr. Erickson told me the news. I was glad, too, because I needed a hand to hold, and Damian was quick to offer me his.
I always thought when I’d find out there was a heart for me, I’d feel an overwhelming amount of joy, but I felt indescribable guilt. Guilt that someone had to lose their life for mine to continue on. That there were people now grieving the loss of their loved one. That the source of their despair was my triumph.
I felt ill from it all. As if I was cheating death. It all didn’t seem fair.
“Circle of life,” Damian said, still holding my hand. He said it so calmly as if he could tell the places my mind was spiraling. “Every beginning has an end and every ending begins again. This is a good thing, Aaliyah. This is good.”
I nodded my head as Dr. Erickson walked me through everything that was happening. He explained how the family was saying their final goodbyes, and that after they were taken off life support, his team would move full speed ahead to prep me for surgery. And within a few hours, I’d have a new heart.
It all felt surreal, as if I were floating in a dream that was leading me to a future I started to doubt I’d ever have a shot at.
Damian excused himself for a while, as Dr. Erickson kept explaining to me the next steps. When he finished, I was left alone for a moment’s time to sit and think about everything that was happening. I thought about what it meant for me to get this heart, what it meant for another family to lose said heart. Life was complicated in ways I’d never be able to understand.
There was a knock at my door, and I was surprised when I looked up to see Damian standing there with Connor beside him.
I sat up a bit in my bed and tilted my head in confusion. “What are you doing here?” I asked Connor, then I looked to Damian. “You told him?”
“I had to,” he confessed. “He’s my brother.” He patted Connor on the back and nodded once. “I’ll let the two of you talk.”
As Damian left the room, Connor stepped inside.
“Hi,” he whispered.
“Hi,” I replied, uncomfortable with how comfortable he made me. I should’ve hated him. I should’ve told him to leave. I should’ve pushed him away, but instead, I stayed quiet, waiting for him to speak. Waiting to see what he had to say.
He cleared his throat. “You’re getting a new heart.”
“Yes.”
“That’s amazing.”
I stayed quiet.
He moved in closer.
The machines beeped more.
He took a step back.
“Listen, I do
n’t want to add any more stress to your life, Aaliyah. I get it, you hate me. I don’t blame you. For the past few weeks, I’ve hated myself more than ever before, but please, Aaliyah…let me stay tonight. You’re going into surgery soon, and I can’t be anywhere else but here. I don’t even have to talk to you. I won’t even look at you if you don’t want me to. If you tell me to stare into that corner, I’ll stare all fucking night, but I can’t leave you, okay?
“I can’t leave you in case something goes wrong, in case the surgery doesn’t work, and, God forbid, in case you end up leaving me…so please, Aaliyah. Please? Please let me stay tonight, because the idea of walking away now burns my entire being. Please, Red…please…” He closed his eyes for a moment and when he reopened them tears began streaming down his cheeks. He pushed his tongue into his cheek as his body began to tremble. As his whole existence began to crumble right there before my eyes. “Please let me stay.”
He stood there completely broken. He showed me his hurts and laid them there to bleed in the open. I saw his fear, I saw his panic, but mostly I saw his love. Love didn’t only show its face during happiness. It didn’t skip by only during the sunshine. No. Sometimes—most of the time—love was a storm at war.
Love explored the world during the darkness. It crawled through pain, fought through combats, and hit rock bottom with a million battle scars. Love wasn’t only the rainbows. Love sparked in the lightning and screamed during the thunder. In that very moment, love rained down over Connor, and his love was being directed straight toward me. Raw. Unleashed. True.
I shifted around in my hospital bed and stared down at my hands.
I thought about it, too. If I didn’t make it out of the surgery. If the heart transplant didn’t work. If the sand of my life ran out. If I never saw him again. If our last exchange was one filled with me asking him to leave.
Eastern Lights Page 31