Borrowed Heart

by Linda Lamberson

  “I’m sorry,” I interrupted, “but I don’t remember you.” I said the words so curtly I was afraid Quinn would think I was being rude, but I had to take that chance. I was foolish enough to reveal myself to him, but I wasn’t about to go breaking another Rule by finding out more details of my life—even inadvertently so. My nerves were already shot. I was kicking myself for having been so weak as to give in and let Quinn see me again. I had a sinking feeling that I had just made a mistake—a colossal mistake.

  Quinn studied my face, my eyes for a minute. His smile disappeared and his brow furrowed.

  “You’re not kidding, are you?” he asked. “You really have no idea who I am. Huh, some impression I must have made on you,” he said sarcastically, trying to mask his disappointment. I tried to put myself in Quinn’s shoes and imagine my reveal from his perspective, and I felt more sympathetic.

  “It’s not your fault,” I reassured him in softer tone of voice. “All memories of my life have been erased.”

  “Erased? Why?”

  “My memories would only serve as a distraction, and it’s crucial that I be able to stay clearheaded and focused.”

  “Focused on what?” he inquired.

  “On my assignment,” I responded.

  “Your assignment? What assignment?” Quinn looked thoroughly confused.

  “The details are not important,” I said, avoiding his question.

  “Not important, huh? Is that code for ‘I’m not going to tell you’?” There was more than a hint of irritation in his voice.

  “Quinn, it’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s just that … I can’t.”

  “You can’t,” he repeated.

  “Honestly, you’re not supposed to know anything about me. I’m taking a huge risk just by being here.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Let’s just say that not too many people are very … accepting of me.”

  “Why?” he pressed. I realized he still didn’t get it.

  “Quinn,” I frowned slightly, “need you really ask?” He sat there for second before it registered.

  “Oh, you mean because you should be dead,” he remarked.

  “Not should be, Quinn. The Evie you knew is dead.”

  * * *

  “Okay, so let me get this straight. You died in that car accident last winter, right?” Quinn asked, puzzled.

  “Yes, I was told that I died in a car accident,” I replied.

  “And now you’re like some sort of ghost—hey, are you an angel?”

  The curiosity and excitement in his voice surprised me.

  “It’s complicated.”

  He looked utterly dissatisfied by my response.

  Well, I thought to myself, I’ve already gone this far; I might as well take another step closer to the edge of the plank. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

  “Quinn, I don’t really know how to explain all of this—in fact, it’s still new to me,” I began. “Even though I’m no longer a living, breathing mortal, I still feel more like a human than an angel or a ghost. Obviously, I can still look human, but I also can be, and often need to be, invisible … in an ethereal state. Nonetheless, I actually prefer to be in my human form. And memory loss aside, I still consider myself to be human most of the time. In fact, I still experience many things the same way you do … well, almost the same way anyway … I mean … except for the living part,” I said awkwardly. I flashed Quinn a crooked grin.

  “So I can … touch you?” Quinn asked, intrigued.

  “It’s possible.”

  Quinn reached out for my hand, but I jerked it away just before he made contact.

  “Why’d you do that?” Quinn looked up at me, confused and a bit offended.

  “I said it was possible—not that you should,” I stated. Actually, I was afraid of how Quinn would react if I let him touch me. What if I felt different than I used to? And I was afraid of my own reaction to his touch. I still needed to learn how to control my emotions—my impulses. I remembered what Agnes had told me—acting out of love was one thing, acting out of passion was something completely different … something wholly unacceptable. I had to proceed slowly; I needed time to absorb the aftershocks that no doubt would follow what I had just done.

  “Look, we need to take this one step at a time … Our situation is a little … unique. Apparently, you seemed to have known me when I was alive, but I don’t remember you. I don’t even remember me. That said, I can assure you that I’m not the Evie that you once knew. And I don’t want to mislead you into thinking that I am. For one thing, my name is Eve.

  “And,” I continued, “despite the temptation of wanting to learn about my past, I just can’t. So please don’t tell me anything about myself when I was alive. It’s just too risky. I won’t be able to do what I need to do if I’m bogged down with those kinds of distractions.” I paused for a moment. “Quinn, I’m asking you to please promise me that you won’t tell me anything about my past.”

  “Wait a minute,” he said in disbelief. “You have no idea who you are because your memory was somehow erased. And, even though I can fill in a few gaps and answer some of the questions you may have about your life, you’re honestly telling me that you don’t want me to tell you anything about yourself?”

  “In a nutshell, yes. It’s for your own good.”

  “For my own good?” Quinn asked, confused, before he started firing off questions. “Okay, what’s going on? Why are you really here? Why did you show up that night when I was getting mugged? What were you doing out there? Trying to save me or something?”

  “Excuse me? Trying to save you?” Now I was the one who was mildly offended. “Um, I think you can give me a little more credit than that—the guy would have killed you if it wasn’t for me!”

  “Maybe he wouldn’t have snatched my wallet away from me so easily if you hadn’t distracted me. Did you ever think of that?”

  “Quinn, if you believe that, then you really are losing your mind,” I snapped.

  “Whoa there, Miss Feisty!” Quinn spit out as he laughed. “I must say, you sure sound like the old Evie to me.”

  Feisty. I backed down, caught off guard by what Quinn had said. Teddy had used that exact word to describe me, and although Teddy hadn’t known me for all that long, he had to be able to read people fairly well given that he had been around them for centuries. Quinn, on the other hand, was a twenty-year old college student. What in the world did he know about people? Quinn’s choice of words made me wonder just how well he had known me.

  Our eyes met and we held each other’s gaze. His deep blue eyes darkened to the color of midnight, and I noticed the expression on his face change. It made my stomach stir with excitement. I quickly cleared my throat, interrupting the moment.

  “Quinn, this is serious. I have to stay focused on my assignment.”

  “Your assignment,” he teased. “Right.”

  I was surprised by how quickly Quinn was able to fluster me, but he did. In fact, his mocking infuriated me.

  Fine, I said to myself, if he thinks this is all a joke, let’s see how much humor he finds in this bit of information.

  “I’ll have you know,” I stated arrogantly, “that my assignment … is you.”

  “What?” That was enough to grab Quinn’s attention.

  I knew I should have fought the urge to tell him, but I suspected he would find out the truth sooner or later. Besides, judging by how he seemed to be taking all of this in such stride, maybe a little reality check was in order.

  “I’m here to protect you from getting hurt, to protect you from other dangerous encounters like the attack.”

  “So you’re supposed to be like, what, my guardian angel?” Quinn half-stated and half-inquired.

  “If that’s the way you want to look at it—then, sure.”

  “Am I still in danger?”

  “Someone seems to think so.”

  “My own personal angel,” Quinn teased a
s he flashed me that smile—that amazing, heart-melting smile.

  “Hey, don’t go letting this feed your already over-inflated sense of self. I’m far from the only one of my kind.”

  “Then why are you here to protect me?”

  “What—you don’t think I can protect you?” I asked defensively. “Haven’t I proven myself to you once already?”

  “No, it isn’t that,” Quinn said quickly. “I just think it’s a little weird that your memory was erased so you wouldn’t remember your life, but then you were assigned to protect me—not that I mind that it’s you, of course, because I don’t—trust me.” His eyes sparkled and he flashed me that amazing smile of his. “I mean, when I first met you, I thought you were—”

  “Please, no personal information about me, okay?” I reminded him.

  “Okay,” he agreed reluctantly, frowning.

  “And, in response to your original question, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Yet, here I am, standing before you, charged with protecting you.”

  “Are you saying that your being assigned to me was a mistake?” Quinn asked.

  “It’s not clear.” I was divulging too much information. What was I talking about? I had already said way too much. I could probably get my immortal abilities stripped for the next five centuries based on my actions in the last twenty minutes alone!

  “Look, Quinn, I think it’s safe to say I have now told you considerably more than you’re supposed to know. I have to ask that you please not tell anyone about me … or about your—our—situation.”

  “Back in my life for five minutes and you’re already asking me to make two promises. I don’t know about this,” Quinn joked.

  “This is not a joking matter.” I shot Quinn a glance that said I meant business.

  “Okay, so let me just run through the highlights: I now know that there is indeed life after death—case in point: you sitting here in my apartment. And, even though we knew each other while you were alive, you have no recollection of your past and you don’t want to know about it. You’re here to protect me because I am apparently in some kind of danger, although I have no idea what kind. And I’m not supposed to tell anyone about any of this. Does that about cover it?”

  I nodded affirmatively.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not about to breathe a word of this to anyone. I mean, what would I say? Who would even believe me? I’ve been acting weird enough lately; I don’t want to end up locked in some padded room somewhere. I mean, I’m not sure I even believe all of this; you could simply be a dream.” He suddenly looked lost and unsure of himself.

  “Quinn, I know my being here has to be blowing your mind. I would have trouble believing it if I were in your shoes. I want to try to help you understand what is going on, but I’m just not sure of the best way to do that. I can promise you, however, that this is not a dream and that you are in need of protection.”

  “And you?” he asked. “Are you a dream?”

  Against my better judgment, I reached out and touched Quinn’s hand. Electricity surged through my fingertips the instant we made contact, but he didn’t flinch or try to move. He just looked down at my hand resting on top of his own. The electric current raced up my arm. I held my breath not knowing how much longer I could fight the urge to move closer towards him. I lifted my hand off of his, leaving only the wake of the tingling sensation rippling through me. Quinn kept gazing at his hand.

  Proof enough, I thought.

  “So you won’t tell anyone about this evening, about anything that has to do with me or why I’m here?”

  “I promise—scouts honor.” He flashed his huge, beautiful smile and held up his hand like he was a boy scout. “But don’t expect me to call you Eve. You were, and you always will be, Evie to me.”

  “Fair enough,” I conceded. It was a small price to pay for him to keep my secret, my anonymity. Besides, I believed Quinn wouldn’t tell anyone about me regardless of my concession. Though I had no real reason to trust him with protecting my identity, I did. That said, I wasn’t so sure about my other request. I wasn’t sure he would respect my desire to remain in my current state of amnesia.

  “And what about my first request—that you promise not to tell me anything about me or my life?”

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to tell you anything?”

  I shot Quinn a stern look.

  “Yeah, fine, that one too,” he agreed unwillingly.

  “Thanks,” I said sincerely. The truth, however, was that I did want to find out something.

  “Um, Quinn, before you make good on your promises, I do feel like it’s important for me to know one thing.”

  “I knew it!” he declared triumphantly.

  “Just this one thing and that’s it. Then the promises kick in.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Well, uh,” I stumbled, “I have no idea about us … or … if there ever was an us. Could you just tell me in what way … I mean if …” I cleared my throat, rephrasing the question in my mind before spitting the rest of it out. “Were we ever … involved?” I felt like an idiot for asking, and the pleased look that crossed his face did not do much to reassure me.

  “Are you asking whether our relationship was ever more than platonic?” Quinn’s patronizing smile was almost more than I could bear—I was humiliated enough as it was. But his playful expression was soon replaced by a dark, stormy look in his eyes.

  “I wanted it to be. And I honestly believed you did too. But there was an … obstacle of sorts. And then you were gone.”

  22. Reunited

  Quinn would only go back to sleep that evening after I promised him I would be there when he woke up. True to my word, I was sitting in “my” chair before his alarm went off, and watched as he groggily stumbled across the hall from his bedroom to the bathroom. As if the events of the prior evening had just resurfaced in his mind, he stopped mid-step to the bathroom and glanced in my direction. When he saw me, he flashed me a funny little grin, which made him look goofy and sweet when combined with his out-of-control bed head.

  * * *

  “So how does this work?” Quinn asked. He was dressed in a charcoal grey, pinstriped suit, stuffing documents into his computer bag.

  “How does what work?” I asked.

  “You know—you … this. What do you do when I’m at work? Can you leave this apartment?” he asked curiously.

  “Yes, I can leave this apartment,” I scoffed. Not wanting Quinn to think of me as a stalker, however, I answered his first question more vaguely. “I like to travel. In fact, I can go anywhere in the world I want to in a flash. But I’m always just a thought away. So if you ever want me—”

  Almost immediately, I saw a playful twinkle appear in his eye.

  “Let me rephrase that,” I said, smirking, “if there’s ever a time when you need me, if you’re ever in trouble, I’ll be there.”

  “So you’ll be here when I get back?” Quinn asked somewhat tentatively.

  “I guess that all depends … do you still want me to be here?” I asked just as hesitantly. A part of me was afraid he had changed his mind overnight.

  “I can’t believe you even have to ask.” He sounded so insulted.

  “Quinn, you have to admit that my being here—my existence—is pretty strange at best. I would understand completely if this was too much for you to handle. I mean, this isn’t a test; I’ll do my job whether you want me here or not. You don’t have to make this some personal quest to see how far you can push the boundaries of what your mind is willing to accept.”

  “Evie, you obviously have forgotten, but I’m not one to walk away from a challenge—especially if that challenge involves you.” He smiled at me and my insides melted. I was thankful to be sitting, afraid my knees would have given way had I been standing.

  “Okay then,” I said weakly, “I’ll be here when you get back.”

  Quinn smiled at me once more before he walked out of the apartment.

  He wante
d me to stay. I couldn’t stop smiling. It took me a moment to collect myself before I phased out and ghosted him to work.

  * * *

  The next few days were much the same. I would say good night just before Quinn went to bed, leave his apartment, and hang out on his rooftop until I knew he was asleep. At night, I mostly strolled the city streets, Lincoln Park Zoo, Grant Park, and the bike path along Lake Michigan. Having now visited several other cities around the world, I had come to appreciate Chicago; it was beautiful, charming, and friendly—qualities I had thought were absent in most cities this size. I wished I could have walked around the city during the daylight hours so I could feel the sun on my face and the energy of the city buzzing all around me.

  I would return to Quinn’s apartment just before his alarm went off in the morning, sit in my chair, and wait for him to walk out of his bedroom, only to resume my phantom-like state during the day, invisibly observing him while he was at work.

  Quinn kept to his daily routine at the office but seemed to grow increasingly more anxious towards the end of the day. Instead of volunteering to stay late to rummage through boxes of documents, he would duck out of the office or take a short online research project that he could complete at his apartment. Instead of stopping off to pick up dinner on the way back, he would order it for delivery. And, instead of spending the extra few minutes talking to Ronald outside the nearby convenience store, he would give him a few dollars, apologize, and tell him that he had to run home. Then he would race up the stairs to his apartment, and a look of relief would cross his face as soon as he saw me waiting for him in the wingback chair that faced the front door. I had to admit, it was very cute.

  Careful not to touch on any off-limit topics of conversation, we kept the subject matter of our conversations pretty light and superficial, sticking mainly to “how was your day” stuff and current events. Occasionally, he would offer me some of his dinner but wouldn’t pry when I politely declined. We would watch TV together, and he would usually defer to me when it came to picking the evening’s tube entertainment, which ultimately meant a lot of the Discovery Channel.