Pure Hearts

by Jeannine Allison

  I nodded, letting that sink in right before she threw something else at me.

  “I went by Iris’s place tonight.”

  My heart stopped. It took everything not to ask about her.

  How is she?

  Did she look good?

  Is the tree up?

  Is my ornament still on it?

  I looked over and saw my mom giving me a knowing smile. Rolling my eyes, I turned to face her completely, her arm falling away, and cleared my throat. “How was she?”

  “She’s looked better.”

  I looked toward the TV, that knowledge hurting me more than anything else. Iris never deserved to feel down, and the only reason she was was because of me.

  My gaze was still on the TV when my ma bent down and kissed me on the cheek. Only when she pulled away did I notice she’d gotten up and grabbed a box. She gently set it down on the coffee table before walking to the front door.

  Pausing with her hand on the knob, she said, “If you can’t trust what I’m telling you. Trust that. I don’t know what the card says or what Iris got you. But I have no doubt that it’s perfect for you. Because the woman I know, the woman you love, is incapable of anything less.”

  She left, and I got up to lock the door behind her, my head hitting the wood as tears filled my eyes.

  When I was younger I let my father fill my head with fantasies of him returning. But he said all that out of guilt. He hadn’t been thinking of me at all. He just wanted to make himself feel better, and when he changed his mind he made sure he wasn’t there to see the consequences: my pain and devastation.

  When Colleen lied to me, at least she didn’t give me any fake excuses. She owned what she did. That didn’t mean I could forgive her, but she faced it.

  But right now, with Iris, I had no clue how to handle it. How do you forgive someone for a betrayal they weren’t even aware of?

  My knee-jerk reaction had been that she was lying and I was being manipulated again. But with some thought I realized that that reaction was based on nothing more than my past experiences, because I hadn’t been thinking about Iris. I thought of my father and Colleen.

  Expectation comes from experience.

  The more thought I gave it, the more I realized Iris couldn’t have faked it all. Three months of touches, kisses, love… there was no way to fake all that.

  I turned around and my stare immediately landed on Iris’s gift. Without another thought, I strode forward and grabbed the box, running my fingers over the card.

  My heart felt like it was about to beat out of my chest as I sat down and opened it. I knew whatever the gift was would pale in comparison to the words she wrote. The card was simple; the front depicted a lone Christmas tree and the inside was blank except for her handwriting.

  Nick,

  Merry Christmas!!

  I’ve never been more excited to spend Christmas with someone. Every single day we spend together is my new favorite day. You mean more to me than I’ll ever be able to express. I’ve never felt so safe in someone’s hold. I’ve never felt such peace in someone’s touch. I’ve never felt so much love in someone’s kiss.

  I can’t wait for what comes next.

  xoxo,

  Iris

  Below that was a new note, in a different color, like it was added on later.

  I love you.

  I needed to say it (or write it, I guess) at least once and imagine you believe me. Maybe it’s easier knowing you’ll never read this.

  But I do, I love you more than I know how to say. The only reason I never told you earlier was because I didn’t want it to be said on a breath of lies and misplaced trust.

  I look back to this card I wrote before everything went to hell and I think, I can’t believe I was so naïve. My hand is shaking as I write this. Is that weird? Is it weird that my heart constantly feels like it’s breaking? It’s not just once, I’ve discovered. Every time I think of you, it shatters, which is pretty much every single second of the day.

  I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lying. I’m sorry for what Kent did. I’m sorry that part of me is still conflicted over what the right choice was that night. I’m just sorry. But mostly I’m sorry I was another example, another lesson in your belief that you shouldn’t trust people. I hope you don’t lose the lightness you’ve found. You deserve to be happy.

  I know I screwed up. But I can’t help but feel like I was set up for it. You can’t live your life waiting for people to fail you. If you do, they will, one hundred percent of the time. Especially if you won’t accept an explanation. I guess I thought it was different between us, but maybe not. Either way, I own up to my mistake. And I’m not saying you need to apologize to me. I just hope you don’t spend your life waiting for the other shoe to drop. I hope you enjoy what you have, and if a time comes where your next partner does disappoint you, I hope you’ll give her the benefit of the doubt.

  I hope you’ll find the woman you love enough to fight for. I’m just sorry it wasn’t me.

  My eyes watered as I placed the card aside and unwrapped the gift. Once I saw what it was, there was zero chance of stopping the tears from falling over and running down my cheeks. It was a set of expensive knives, complete with an engraving on the outside of the wooden box holding them. It read: Nicholas Blake, Executive Chef & Owner.

  There was a post-it, explaining that the blank space below was left so I could add my restaurant’s name once I had one.

  My chest ached. She was right. Just like I had with Colleen—inadvertently or not—I had been waiting for Iris to hurt me. If we were a sinking ship, she would have been the water that was accidentally pulling us under, but I was the one who fucking drilled holes in the bottom.

  It took two to dissolve a relationship. But sometimes there only needed to be one to fight for it. I didn’t know where her head was at. It had only been a couple weeks, but my mother was right—Iris wouldn’t wait forever.

  Either way, she was about to find out that she was the only woman I could love enough to fight for.

  It was awkward. No one knew what to say to me, Kent, or Calla. I watched as Kent held Mirielle close to his chest, like she was about to be ripped away from him at any moment. Calla looked on with the same kind of horror and despair on her face.

  We’d never had dinners like this—especially Christmas dinner—it was my mom’s favorite holiday, and I hated that we were ruining it for her.

  My loneliness was bearing down on me as I gazed at the three couples. Even wrapped in sadness, fear, or awkwardness, I was jealous of what they had.

  My parents. Kent and Calla with Mirielle. And Aster, who brought his new girlfriend, Becky. They all had someone, and while I was happy for them—I truly was—it was hard to watch.

  I missed Nick. He should be sitting here beside me. But I was slowly coming to think that nothing I did would have mattered. Our fate was decided the moment Kent ran him off the road. We would always be linked by that night. I could have told him my suspicions the second he woke up from his nightmare. I could have driven to his house and revealed everything after I confronted Kent and Calla. At any point in the last two weeks of our relationship, I could have said something, and I still would have ended up here alone.

  Because even if Nick forgave me, even if he never had to worry about forgiving me in the first place, he wouldn’t forgive Kent.

  And could anything ever blossom between us when he couldn’t be around my family? They were important to me, just like Catherine was to him.

  I loved him. But I could also recognize his flaws. One of which was that he was someone prone to choosing grudges over forgiveness, pessimism over optimism, sadness over happiness, and hate over love.

  It hurt to think the love I imagined… the love I thought we’d had… wasn’t enough. We needed to meet halfway. I was willing to talk through it. Even after two weeks of silence, I still held out hope. But after Catherine left last night and I realized she took the card with her, my original panic flared with
the most hope I’d felt since that horrible night.

  I hardly got any sleep last night, waiting for Nick to call or show up. I left an hour later than I should’ve this morning because I didn’t want to miss him in case he dropped by.

  He never did.

  So either he had no interest in even reading the card, or he read it and didn’t believe my words. Both options felt like a kick to the stomach.

  When it came to what hurt more, words or a hit, I honestly couldn’t tell the difference. They didn’t feel separate to me. At least not when they came from the people I loved. Words could feel like a deep punch to the gut, just like a slap could feel like a sting on the soul.

  Either way, neither hits nor words were the most painful thing. Silence was.

  And this morning, on Christmas, I decided that maybe it was time I accepted a truth I was too naïve to accept before: Nick wasn’t coming back.

  I looked up and found my mother staring at me, sympathy swimming in her blue eyes. My gaze dropped to her hand still holding my father’s. I cleared my throat and started to stand.

  “I think I’m going to head out,” I said with a nod toward the entrance of the house.

  “But we haven’t even had dessert. Your mom made lemon bars,” my father said with a frown. “They’re your favorite.”

  I tried to give a small smile, but I didn’t think it worked. “My stomach doesn’t feel too well. I think I’m going to go home and sleep.”

  “Why don’t you stay here?” my mother chimed in, now standing up with me. I wanted to say yes, for no other reason than to remove the heartbreak from her eyes, but I couldn’t.

  The hope that Nick would show up was gone, but I wanted to be alone. Nothing had ever hurt this much. It was the kind of hurt that didn’t want company.

  The kind of hurt no one should have to deal with on Christmas.

  “I’d rather be in my own bed tonight. I’m sorry, Mom.”

  “Okay. Well at least let me wrap up some lemon bars to go.” She scurried away too quickly for me to refute.

  “Hey.” I looked over my shoulder to find that Aster had stood up. “Can we talk for a minute?” he asked.

  “Sure.” I let him lead me away from the dining room and toward the library Mom had in the front of the house. Talking was the last thing I wanted to do, but I hardly ever saw Aster anymore.

  I walked toward the window, watching the snow fall and the lights in the front yard. It painted a happy picture that didn’t exist in this house right now.

  “How are you?” he asked softly as he came up beside me.

  “I’ve been better.” I smiled sadly. “What about you? New York must be treating you well; Becky seems really sweet.”

  Aster shrugged and looked down at the floor. “Yeah. She’s pretty cool.”

  My smile was more genuine this time, because She’s pretty cool equaled I’m in love with her when coming out of Aster’s mouth.

  “I was sorry I didn’t get to meet Nick.” He looked at me from the corner of his eye. I knew my parents had told him everything, and I was really hoping that would have been enough.

  “Me too. I think you guys would have gotten along. He thought I was crazy half the time, too.”

  He frowned and rubbed a hand across his jaw. “He doesn’t think you’re crazy, Iris. He’ll come back.”

  My eyes filled with tears. Shaking my head, I walked over to the large chair in the corner and took a seat. His steps echoed across the wood as he joined me. The chair was big enough for three or four people so we had no trouble fitting.

  I looked down at my hands as my tears started to fall. Aster scooted closer and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Mom said he didn’t really yell. That he seemed… well, a little calm. That’s good, right? Somewhere deep down he knows that—”

  “No,” I whispered. “That’s not good at all.”

  I thought about his relationship with Colleen, how he walked away without a backward glance.

  “Nick doesn’t… he’s told me about his past relationships. He doesn’t look back, let alone come back.”

  My brother tapped me on the nose. “That was before he met you. You’ve changed him.”

  “How do you know?” I whispered.

  Aster was quiet for a minute as he collected his thoughts. “Because of how I see you.” I swallowed nervously, waiting for him to continue. “I don’t think you’re crazy, either. I may say it but… the truth is you scare me.”

  I straightened, my lips pulling down into a frown. “Scare you? How?”

  “I worry about you. I worry you’ll hurt yourself trying to help others. That you’ll wander into the darkness and not see that sometimes people aren’t sitting there and holding roses, just waiting for someone to notice they’re decent people. Sometimes, they’re holding axes. Some people belong in the dark.” He shook his head. “It’s easier now that you’re older. I know you’re smart and that you have a good head on your shoulders. But when you were younger I was terrified every time you left the house.

  “There are people in this world who would look at someone like you as prey. They’d take advantage of you or hurt you. As your big brother, I couldn’t stand that. I didn’t mean to make you feel crazy or like a freak. Or any of the other stupid shit I said when I was a kid. I thought I was helping you. I didn’t want you to be in a dangerous position. Sometimes I think you’re too good for this world.”

  I shook my head. “Aster—”

  “Most people don’t know how to handle that,” he kept going. “But once someone knows what it’s like to be around you, they can’t live without you. You make everyone’s life better just by being in it. So that’s how I know he doesn’t think you’re crazy and that he’ll come back. He’s in awe of you.”

  Now I was crying for a completely different reason. “Aster…”

  “I’m only speaking the truth.” He leaned down and kissed the top of my head before pulling me into a hug.

  A few weeks ago I would have dismissed his words, but tonight I held on to them like the life raft they were.

  I was parked across the street, creepily in the shadows, when Iris came home. My eyes flew to the clock. It was only seven o’clock. I’d only been here an hour but I was expecting to wait much longer.

  After I had an early dinner with my ma and Trevor, I figured I’d give them some alone time. I didn’t tell them where I was going, but somehow Ma knew. She kissed me on the cheek and wished me luck before I left. I hugged her extra tight.

  I’d ducked down the second she got out of the car, but she didn’t spare me a glance. She didn’t spare anything a glance.

  Her neighbor directly next to her was out, grabbing something from a car, and she didn’t acknowledge him at all. I frowned and looked over at him. He looked equally confused. Iris always said hello. But it was like she was on autopilot, almost robotic, as she grabbed a bag from the backseat of her car before trudging up the steps and into her house, not even bothering to plug her lights in.

  Once she locked herself inside, I grabbed her present off the passenger seat and exited the car. I slid the small, wrapped jewelry box into the pocket of my jeans and crossed the street. My foot had just hit the sidewalk when I heard a car pull up behind me. Turning my head, I saw Calla get out of her car. She did a double take and slowly walked toward me, like a zookeeper would approach a caged lion.

  “Hey,” she whispered as her eyes nervously darted toward the houses behind me.

  “Hi.”

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I’m here to see my girlfriend.”

  Calla’s eyes grew hard. “Oh? I wasn’t aware she still had a boyfriend.”

  I clenched my fists. Not because I wanted to hit her, but because I was genuinely considering punching myself in the face. It probably wouldn’t hurt as much as her words.

  “Iris left early because she said she wasn’t feeling well. She didn’t even have any lemon bars.” She lifted a container filled with
them as proof. “They’re her favorite.”

  “I know that.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Do you?”

  “Yes,” I said a little too loudly.

  “I may have been distracted these last few weeks, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen how much pain Iris is in. And it kills me to know that I’m responsible. That I’m the reason my baby sister is hurting. But you’re responsible too.”

  “I—”

  “No. I’m talking now.”

  What is it with every woman telling me to shut up lately?

  “Iris isn’t perfect. If you thought so, that was your mistake. You can’t pretend everyone is perfect and be dismayed when you find out they’re not. That is on you. If you loved her like you claimed to, you’d love Iris for her flaws, too. Love can’t exist in a perfect world. And if that’s where your head has been, thinking you were in love with her because she was perfect, then perhaps you were right, and it was all a lie. Because if you were in love with her, you’d love all of her. And if you can’t, she’ll find someone who can.”

  She looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry we asked her to lie,” she whispered. “We shouldn’t have. We were just trying to keep our family together. But I never considered I’d be breaking up hers. She doesn’t deserve this. So I’m asking…” Her gaze rose to meet mine. “I’m begging you, if you’re not here to forgive her, please don’t go up there. If you need to yell or hate someone, use me. Not her.”

  “I’m not here to yell at her.” I pulled the wrapped gift out of my pocket. “Would I bring a present if I was?”

  Calla blinked and looked at it, a tiny smile stretching across her lips. “To be honest, I didn’t even see that. I’ve been a little out of it lately.”

  I sighed and put the gift back in my pocket, feeling the pain in my chest building. “I’m not going to say anything,” I admitted.