Borrowed Heart

by Linda Lamberson

  “Oh … thanks.” I didn’t know what to say. Of course, I had already memorized Quinn’s password from watching him enter it into his laptop time and time again. Initially, I had every intention of snooping around his computer to find out more about him while he slept, but I could never bring myself to actually do it. It just felt wrong—a huge violation of his privacy. And, in any case, I didn’t really need to snoop anymore. Since I had revealed myself to Quinn, I was able to find out a lot about him just by asking. Yet, here he was giving me his password, trusting that I would not abuse it.

  “It’s nice to know you trust me enough to give me this,” I remarked, holding up the paper with his password.

  “Don’t be silly,” Quinn replied. “I trust you with my life. Giving you the password to my computer seems like child’s play in comparison.” The expression on his face suddenly changed; he looked more sullen. “Besides, I don’t want to keep any secrets from you.”

  I believed he meant what he said. But I also knew he had yet to volunteer certain information to me—like information about his brother Brady … or about Ashley. I reminded myself that Quinn was human, and keeping secrets was part of human nature.

  But wasn’t I doing the same thing? Hadn’t I been withholding information from Quinn? Didn’t I justify such omissions as being necessary to carry out my assignment? Didn’t I make the conscious choice to feed Quinn information on a need-to-know basis only? As I understood it, I was incapable of speaking untruths, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t withhold information at times. As a Shepherd, I couldn’t lie, but I could keep secrets.

  I thought about what Agnes had said earlier, and I was beginning to see how our ways necessarily allowed for a certain amount of give in order to meet the demands of a particular assignment. I contemplated what kind of loopholes in the Rules might exist and how I could use them to my advantage.

  I was so distracted I hadn’t noticed the music stop. I didn’t notice the change in Quinn’s breathing, each breath growing deeper and heavier. I didn’t even notice that my pulse—his pulse—had started racing.

  What I finally did notice, however, was that Quinn’s left hand, which had been resting on the back of the couch behind me, was now playing with my hair. I noticed the subtle ripple of energy coursing through me from my head to my toes. And I noticed the butterflies fluttering wildly about in my belly from my budding nervousness. I was afraid to look at Quinn; I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing his brilliant blue eyes, his charming smile … his soft lips.

  His hand traveled to the nape of my neck, which he then started to massage gently. My body instinctively moved towards him. My butterflies soon gave way to something else. I felt like my body temperature was rising, if that was at all possible, and it wasn’t long before his touch ignited a smoldering fire within me. I wanted Quinn—badly. I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself much longer. He started to lean in closer towards me. I could feel the electrified air dancing wildly around us.

  Please don’t do this! I begged silently. Agnes’s words rang loudly through my head like warning bells. “Acts of love and acts of passion are not the same thing … To have any fighting chance of success, you will have to find a way to separate the two.”

  The weight of her words was enough to snap me out of my momentary lapse of reason. I knew kissing Quinn would cross a very dangerous line—for both of us. I couldn’t let this happen. I had to think of something fast. And, unfortunately, I did.

  “Speaking of secrets, Quinn, are you sure Ashley would approve of me being here with you right now?” My voice was laced with undue venom; my words were like acid. I regretted uttering them the second they came out of my mouth.

  From the look on his face, it instantly became clear he had no idea I was aware of her. He pulled away from me, ran his hands through his hair, and sat there quietly for a second before he stood up and walked into the kitchen.

  Talk about ruining the moment—mission accomplished: a kiss was no longer in the stars this evening. That said, it was unfair of me to hit Quinn so far below the belt. Unable to keep my emotions in check, and I had lashed out. And Quinn was paying the price yet again for my failure. He had worked so hard to create the perfect evening, and I had single-handedly destroyed it with one cheap shot. I was beginning to think any kind of “relationship” with him was nearly impossible.

  “Look …” he mumbled as he was searching for the right words—for some explanation. He couldn’t even face me.

  “Quinn, I’m sorry,” I interjected. “It wasn’t my place to say that. It’s none of my business. You don’t have to try to explain anything. In fact, you have nothing to explain. I shouldn’t have thrown her name in your face … I’m sorry.” My voice was riddled with remorse. “I should go.” I headed towards the front door and opened it.

  If I had been smart, I would have used this moment to distance myself from Quinn before I hurt him any further. Having driven this wedge between him and me, I should have used it as an opportunity to end things with him. I knew the right thing to do was to walk through his front door and not look back.

  But I didn’t walk through the door. I couldn’t. Rather, I glanced back at Quinn. When I saw the distraught look on his face, I no longer thought about the smart thing or the right thing to do. I couldn’t let this evening end on such a nasty note. I wanted him to remember this night as being the fairy tale he had created for me. I wanted to remember it that way.

  I closed the door and walked over to him. I reached up and cradled his face with my hands. The passion that had consumed me only moments before was nowhere to be found. I felt only great sadness for hurting the one person I cared for so deeply. I gently lifted up Quinn’s head a little, hoping he would meet my eyes, but he refused to do so.

  “Quinn, it was a stupid thing to say … Please, forget it,” I begged. “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what came over me. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin this amazing evening with you.” I took him by the arms and turned his body to face mine, but he still wouldn’t yield. He simply cast his gaze to the floor beside me.

  “Quinn, I only said what I did because I’m scared and confused … Whatever it is that we’re doing is destined to fail. Being with you would mean breaking Rules I can’t break. It would mean trying to have a life with you that simply cannot exist for me. I don’t have the right to ask you to turn your back on what’s in front of you or what lies ahead in your future. I mean, I don’t even know how much longer I can stay here—”

  “Evie, I’m in love with you,” Quinn blurted out as his eyes met mine.

  I was speechless, my mouth still hanging open in mid-sentence, my eyes wide with surprise. Did he just say what I thought he said? I couldn’t be sure. I could see Quinn searching my face, looking for some sign, some clue, as to my reaction to his statement.

  I felt so naked and transparent—as if he could see everything I had tried so desperately to hide. As if he knew the three little words I had wanted to tell him but was too terrified to utter. I was afraid to move or even breathe for fear that those very same words would spill out of my mouth at any second.

  “Evie, did you hear me?” Quinn asked. “I love you.”

  There was no mistaking his words this time. I couldn’t imagine any feeling that could rival how I felt at that moment. Pure bliss. Pure exhilaration. I was completely lost in the moment. Suddenly, I didn’t care about the consequences for what I was about to do. I didn’t want to care. I took a deep breath and leaped.

  “I love you too.” As I heard myself say the words, fireworks went off inside me, the aftershocks of which radiated warmly through me, leaving me floating in a state of perfect serenity. I was consumed by feelings of love, devotion, tenderness, and adoration for the person standing before me. I wanted to give myself over to Quinn wholly and unselfishly, needing nothing in return.

  Quinn grabbed me and pulled me into him, embracing me while he buried his face in my hair.

  I wrapped my arms
around him, returning his embrace. I pressed my face against his chest and let myself drink in his intoxicating scent. We stood there holding each other for what seemed like eternity.

  “I love you too,” I repeated.

  * * *

  We stayed up until sunrise cuddling under a blanket on the couch and talking the night away. Quinn fell asleep just as the sun breached the horizon. But the sun didn’t stick around for long. He woke up later to stormy skies.

  “Well, I guess going outside is not in the game plan for today,” he said groggily, rubbing his eyes.

  “You can always go back to sleep,” I mumbled. I was so busy playing around with iTunes on his laptop that I barely glanced at him.

  “Hey, are you trying to get rid of me?” Quinn feigned being upset. “If I had known you’d be more interested in my laptop than in me, I would have seriously reconsidered the second half of my surprise last night,” he teased.

  Getting the picture, I closed the laptop and put it on the coffee table. “Okay, then,” I said, looking at him. “Just what do you have in mind for us on this rainy Sunday afternoon?”

  He paused for a moment and then smiled as he had his “aha” moment.

  “Movies,” he announced.

  “Movies,” I repeated, my mind buzzing with curiosity.

  “Yes. Let’s figure out what kind of movies you like.”

  “Okay. Sounds harmless enough.” It seemed like a fairly innocent way to spend the day—depending on the type of movie. I would be certain to stay clear of any movies with romantic plots; I was already treading water, and the last thing I needed was to test how much more I could withstand before I drowned.

  “For some reason, I think I like action movies,” I quickly added in order to circumvent any discussions about movie genres. And it was the truth. After all, I couldn’t lie.

  25. Life With Quinn

  Over the next couple of weeks, Quinn and I maintained our regular routines. He still didn’t know I ghosted him at work, so he always raced back to his place at the end of each day to find me sitting in my chair waiting for him. We spent most evenings talking. He was obsessed with trying to figure out my likes and dislikes—and just about anything he could about my new existence.

  One evening, we strolled down Michigan Avenue and then Oak Street, peering through the storefront windows. I paid attention to the types of women’s clothes and shoes Quinn liked, so I could tailor my look accordingly when I was in an especially flirtatious mood.

  Another afternoon, Quinn left work early so we could stroll through Lincoln Park Zoo together in an effort to figure out which animals I liked best. We were at the underwater viewing window at the polar bear exhibit when Quinn recognized someone he knew—a man roughly his father’s age, who was there visiting the zoo with a young boy. Before Quinn had a chance to introduce me, I disappeared, ducking behind a few other zoo-goers who were headed to the upper level of the exhibit. I waited there for Quinn as I watched the polar bears frolic in the water from above.

  Even though I was a fair distance away, I could zero in on the conversation between Quinn and the acquaintance, Mr. Adams, who I quickly discovered was a long-time friend of the Harrison family. He was visiting his daughter, who lived in the city with her husband and their three-year-old son, Mason. Apparently, Mason wanted to go to the zoo with his Grandpa, and Mr. Adams couldn’t refuse such a grand invitation. After a couple of minutes of small talk and a wicked temper tantrum from Mason, who wanted to see the “ree-luhs,” which apparently was three-year-old code for “gorillas,” Mr. Adams bid farewell and asked Quinn to extend his greetings to the rest of the Harrison clan. Quinn politely asked Mr. Adams to return the favor to the entire Adams clan.

  Quinn found me lurking about on the upper deck, trying to look as relaxed as possible but failing miserably. The run-in with Mr. Adams had shaken me up; it made me realize how careless I had been acting. I should have been watching out for Quinn’s safety rather than paying attention to a polar bear that had managed to pick up a few goofy tricks after years of calling the zoo its home. I should’ve seen, or at the very least sensed, Mr. Adams’s presence well before he walked directly up to him. Quinn was fortunate that a friend approached him. He might not be so lucky next time. I shuddered thinking about how truly vulnerable Quinn was to an attack—even in broad daylight.

  “Enjoying the view from up here?” Quinn asked curtly.

  “Yes. Very much, thanks.” I was just as short.

  “Well, I don’t know why you felt the need to run away from an old family friend and his three-year-old grandson.”

  “You know why, Quinn. It’s the reason why I was reluctant to go on these little outings with you in the first place. It’s why I continue to wear the hat and glasses. Nothing has changed on that front.”

  “So I can’t ever introduce you to anyone? Not even to someone who doesn’t know you? Or to someone you’ll never even see again?”

  “Never is a promise you can’t make, Quinn. It’s too absolute.”

  “So your answer is ‘no.’” He looked at me for confirmation.

  “That’s correct.”

  He sighed in frustration as he kicked a few pebbles by his feet.

  “Look, don’t forget I’ve got a job to do—and a very important one at that,” I said with raised eyebrows. “And that job is my first priority, period. But, sometimes, when I’m walking around with you, I get distracted. I start forgetting who and what I really am and why I’m here. I end up lowering my defenses and am no longer on full alert. Having you show me off by introducing me to people, even people who don’t know me, will only distract me further. I need to stay focused. I need to be ready to act at a moment’s notice. I don’t think I need to remind you that it can mean the difference between life and death.”

  I reached up and touched Quinn’s scar just above his left temple. He flashed me an exaggerated pout.

  “Don’t you understand? I can’t let something happen to you. I would never forgive myself if I did.”

  “Well, we certainly can’t have that now, can we,” he said softly as he pulled me into his arms. “Never is so absolute.”

  I stood there in his embrace, rolling my eyes at how easily Quinn had once again turned my own words against me.

  * * *

  That night, we strolled by the convenience store near Quinn’s, only to find Ronald in front selling the current edition of Streetwise. I had taken off the sunglasses, but my hair was still pulled back underneath the Cubs hat. Nevertheless, Ronald recognized me immediately.

  “There’s my favorite angel!” Ronald sang out as Quinn and I walked past. I winked at him and flashed him a smile. Puzzled, Quinn looked at Ronald and then at me. I merely shrugged my shoulders.

  “You take care of that one now, you hear?” Ronald called out to Quinn. “She’s one in a million.”

  “Yes, sir,” Quinn said respectfully and flashed me another curious look.

  “Have a good night, Ronald,” I called out to him.

  “She speaks to me at last! You know I am blessed tonight!” Ronald exclaimed in his deep baritone voice and then chuckled and clapped his hands together.

  “You know Ronald?” Quinn asked me, astonished.

  “Let’s just say we’re both night owls,” I responded. As Quinn and I continued to walk away, I turned my head back towards Ronald, who tipped his hat to me and then winked. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something about him—something otherworldly. I began to wonder in what ways Ronald and I really were similar.

  * * *

  Quinn and I spent the rest of the evening discussing sports. We talked about Quinn’s swimming background, mainly—how he got his college scholarship, the IU swim team, and which races he enjoyed swimming most.

  Oddly enough, I had no idea if I could swim—although I guess it didn’t really matter anymore. I presumed I could survive under water for … well, for forever… if need be.

  When I told Quinn I was familiar with
several of the martial arts, he just laughed at me in utter disbelief. Insulted, I smugly informed him I easily could beat him in hand-to-hand combat. He challenged me to a test of skills on the spot, and I pinned him within seconds—twice.

  “That’s not fair—you have superhero powers or something,” Quinn complained, after getting a taste of my immortal strength.

  “Hey, you’ll get no sympathy from me over this one,” I teased. “Need I remind you that you were the one laughing at me? Not to mention that you were the one who challenged me … It serves you right that I kicked your butt.”

  Without warning, he leaped on top of me, pinning me down. In an attempt to nurse his bruised ego, I let him. He had a twinkle of victory in his eye, which made me giggle under my breath despite my best efforts not to do so.

  “You’re not even trying, are you?” he asked, disappointed.

  “What do you think?” I said between fits of laughter.

  “Damn those superpowers!” he exclaimed as he joined me laughing. Rather than get up, however, Quinn lingered on top of me. I recognized the look in his eyes that soon followed. I felt his pulse change as his chest heaved up and down on top of mine. I felt his breath on my face. Knowing I could flip him over at any moment, I just lay there, curious to see if he would try to cross any unspoken boundaries.

  The truth was that I, too, had grown increasingly more inquisitive about the boundaries. While Quinn slept, I spent countless hours pondering the nuances of Agnes’s explanation of the differences between acts of love and acts of passion. True love was selfless and altruistic in intent, while passion stemmed from more selfish and hedonistic desires. It sounded simple in theory; yet, it was anything but cut-and-dried in reality. I loved Quinn. And I wanted him. Often at the same time. In fact, when we were physically close, it was nearly impossible for me to separate the two. I was beginning to understand what Agnes meant by it being a fine line. Now, I just had to learn how to walk the tightrope without hanging myself with it.