The Flawed Heart Series

by Wade, Ellie

  “Okay,” Loïc says with a scoff.

  “I will.” I narrow my eyes toward him. “You don’t believe me?”

  “Sure, I do.”

  I grin up to him. “No, you don’t. But that’s okay.”

  I rest my cheek against Loïc’s chest, and we slow dance. I listen to his heart beating against his chest, and a warm blanket of awe covers me. I thought I was happy before, but this—a world with Loïc by my side and the most beautiful human in the world as my daughter—is true happiness.

  I really concentrate on the sensation that engulfs me. I want to truly experience it and remember it always because this is what I’ve been fighting for. This is life. My happily ever after.

  Thank you.

  Thank you.

  Thank you.

  I send out into the universe. I still don’t know what I did to deserve it, but I’m so very grateful to have found it.

  “Do you love your babies?” I ask Lindi.

  She hugs her two baby dolls in her arms with a wondrous smile upon her face.

  “Baba,” she says.

  “Yes, babies, and they’re yours. Lindi’s babies.”

  I knew she was at the age for her first baby doll. I couldn’t decide between the light-skinned baby or the dark-skinned one. Obviously, Lindi has very pale skin. Yet that doesn’t change the fact that she’s African. Her birth parents and siblings had dark skin. I want her to love everything about herself, so I decided on getting both. I’m so glad I did because the smile on her face is priceless.

  She plops down on the floor and lays her babies out in front of her, admiring them. Her chubby little fingers trace the baby dolls’ eyes and round heads.

  “Lindi, do you want to open more presents?”

  “Baba,” she says in response, not taking her eyes off the dolls.

  Loïc laughs. “All these presents, and she’s done after the first one.”

  “There’s plenty of time for her to open the rest later.” I nudge Loïc’s knee.

  “Well, I have one that I’d like you to open,” he says to me.

  “Yay!” I sit back on the couch as he brings over a very large, rectangular box. “Ooh, it’s a big one, too.”

  “It’s my favorite one,” he says.

  I rip the paper from the gift and open the box. I pull out a large frame, and then I freeze. My breath gets caught in my throat. Tears roll down my face and fall into my lap. My heart expands. I suck in a giant breath of air.

  “Oh, Loïc,” I say through tears, my voice cracking.

  Loïc sits next to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

  “This is the moment…this is…when…I knew,” I choke out, overcome with emotion.

  In my lap sits a large canvas of me and Lindi, the very first time I met her. We’re gazing into each other’s eyes. She’s holding her water bottle and staring at me with a look of wonder. I’m looking at her with a genuine smile and so much love in my expression. I fell completely in love with her then.

  She was my love at first sight.

  “How?” I ask, unable to pull my gaze from one of the best gifts I’ve ever received.

  “Well, you’re always talking about your friend Oliver, the photographer. So, I got on your Facebook to find his full name, and then I messaged him. He sent me dozens of pictures of the first time you met Lindi. This one is my favorite. The emotional connection is palpable. It took my breath away when I saw it.”

  “It’s so beautiful.”

  “It is.”

  “Thank you so much, Loïc. This is the best present you’ve ever given me. I love it so much. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Thank Oliver for taking such gorgeous pictures.”

  “I forgot he even took pictures that day. It completely slipped my mind. I want to see the rest.”

  Loïc gets off the couch to grab another present for me. This one is a much smaller box than the first. I set the canvas down and rip the wrapping paper off as fast as I can.

  “Scrapbooks?” I gasp.

  I quickly flip through the pages of the first book to see so many pictures of the first time I met Lindi. The entire book chronicles our initial meeting with breathtaking visuals. The second book is much thicker and contains pictures from my entire trip. All of the incredible people I met and spoke to—people who changed my life forever—are smiling up at me from the pages. The books bring some many emotions to the surface, and all I can do is cry, full of gratitude for that trip.

  “I can’t believe you made scrapbooks,” I say after a bit.

  Loïc chuckles. “Well, you can thank Paige for that. She put them together for me on some site. I just ordered them.”

  “Well, they’re absolutely perfect.”

  Lindi is standing in front of me, a look of concern on her face. She touches my knee. “Ma, kye?”

  “Yes, baby, Mommy is crying. But these are happy tears. Mommy’s happy.”

  “Pee?”

  “Yes, happy. Come here.” I pull her onto my lap. “Do you want to see a story all about Mommy and Lindi?”

  I open the book, and the three of us look through it. I talk about each picture. Oliver did such a fantastic job of capturing my emotions at the time. I feel like Loïc kind of understands what it was like the first time I met Lindi. That in itself is a gift. I’ll have to call Oliver and tell him how very thankful I am for these images.

  Lindi loves looking through the book, pointing out that Mommy and Lin are in every picture.

  “We’re going to have to order another one.” I lock eyes with Loïc. “I’m pretty sure this one now belongs to baby girl.”

  I kiss the top of Lindi’s head, right between her two puffy pigtails. It’s the only hairstyle that I’ve mastered so far, but it’s by far my favorite anyway.

  The three of us sit together on the couch, looking through the Africa books for hours. Lindi listens intently as I tell them about every picture from my entire trip. I talk about each perfect soul I met on my journey. I leave out the gory parts this time around, for Lindi’s sake. Instead, I replace the horrific details with beautiful ones. Each one of these individuals makes the world a better place just by existing. I tell those stories. I talk of their strength, their smiles, their compassion toward others. I gush about the things I loved most about each person.

  Lindi especially loves the pictures of the safari and the animals. We teach Lindi how to roar like a lion, and Loïc and I go into fits of laughter at her attempts. It’s quite possibly the cutest thing she’s done yet.

  I talk, Loïc asks questions, Lindi roars, and we laugh until Lindi falls asleep against my chest.

  I hold my sleeping baby in my arms, and we leave the living room, still bursting with unopened presents.

  This evening will go down in the history books as one of the best nights of my life. Breaking tradition turned out to be my favorite gift.

  Loïc

  “The anxiety balled up in my throat plummets down to my feet, taking my breath with it. I gasp for air. The sight before me is one straight from my nightmares.”

  —Loïc Berkeley

  I can’t do it anymore.

  I see the words from Tommy’s text over and over in my head as I rifle through my dresser. I shine the light from my cell phone into the drawer. It’s still dark outside, and I don’t want to wake London with the overhead light.

  Her family is arriving today. It’s an exciting day because they will be meeting Lindi for the first time. London has an entire two-day New Year’s celebration planned. We’ve spent the last week since Christmas getting everything ready for our guests. She’s so thrilled to finally introduce our daughter to everyone we love. London goes all out when we host, so she needs her rest this morning.

  The text.

  My mind is still reeling from it, and my heart is racing. As soon as I read it, I responded.

  Sit tight. I’m on my way.

  He hasn’t replied, and that worries me.

&
nbsp; Tommy and I spoke last night about his physical therapy session scheduled for this morning and his complete lack of desire to go to it. He hates going to PT.

  I can’t do it anymore could be in relation to that. Maybe he’s canceling his sessions? But why would he feel the need to tell me that he was skipping PT at six in the morning?

  I just have a sinking feeling deep in my gut. I learned a long time ago to always go with my gut instinct. Intuition is a powerful tool that is too often ignored once one’s brain starts rationalizing the feeling and making excuses for it. I’d rather be wrong than sorry I didn’t act.

  “Loïc?” London’s tired voice whispers from the bed. “What are you doing?”

  “Sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m running to Tommy’s. He just texted me, and something’s not right.”

  “No, don’t go. Today’s a family day,” London protests.

  “I won’t be long. I’m just going to check in on him, and I’ll be right back with plenty of time to help you and get your parents from the airport.”

  “Okay. Don’t be too long.”

  “I won’t.” I walk over to her side of the bed. “I love you.” I bend, kissing her lips.

  “I love you, too, my mighty warrior. I’m proud of you. You’re a good man, Loïc. Tommy is lucky to have you looking out for him.”

  “Thanks, babe. Go back to sleep. I’ll be home soon.”

  “Okay.” London sounds half-asleep already.

  I text Tommy again once I’m in my truck.

  Be there soon, bud.

  I’m sure I cut the usual thirty-minute drive to Tommy’s in half. The roads were relatively clear this early in the morning, and my foot was excessively heavy on the gas pedal.

  I knock on Tommy’s door with my fists.

  Come on, Tommy.

  Open up.

  I pound louder.

  I remember the key that he gave me six months ago, back when London was on assignment in Africa. He went away for the weekend and asked me to stop by and feed his cat. I run down the apartment stairs and out to my truck. I start tossing papers and other random crap out of the glove box in search of the key. Grabbing the key, I run back up to his place.

  I open the door. “Tommy?” I call out.

  I wipe my slick palms against my jeans and breathe deep. My heart pounds loudly, and the rhythmic thud rings in my ears. I turn on the light and scan the living room and small dining space.

  Come on.

  Please.

  Please.

  I head down the hall, past the kitchen and toward his bedroom.

  “Tommy?” I knock once on his door before cautiously opening it.

  The anxiety balled up in my throat plummets down to my feet, taking my breath with it. I gasp for air. The sight before me is one straight from my nightmares.

  Please. I send a quick prayer into the universe. It’s one word, but the need is desperate.

  “Tommy.” My voices shakes.

  He is sitting in his wheelchair at the foot of his bed, facing me. He’s drenched in sweat. His eyes are red, puffy, and tired. His knuckles are white, and his arm quivers as he holds a handgun under his chin. The trajectory of the bullet would be directly in line with his brain.

  “Tommy, please.” I hold out my hands, my palms toward him, begging him to stop. “Let’s just take a moment to talk this out. This isn’t what you want to do. This won’t solve anything.” I take a small step toward him.

  “Stop!” he cries, pulling the gun from his skin and directing it at me. “Don’t come any closer.”

  “I’m here to help you. Talk to me, Tommy. We can fix this.”

  Keeping the gun pointed in my direction, he points to his missing legs with his free hand. “You can fix this?” Then, he points to the side of his head, tears streaming down his face. “You can fix this?”

  “I can help you.”

  “You can’t. No one can. You can’t stop the images from coming. I see them. I see their faces. I see their families’ faces. There’s a nightmare playing in my head twenty-four hours a day, and it won’t stop. You can’t make it stop.”

  “I’ve been there, Tommy. I know what that’s like. You can beat it. This isn’t the end for you.”

  “I can’t do it anymore. I tried. I’m tired. I’m so goddamn tired of fighting. I want the pain to end. I can’t. I can’t,” he sobs, shaking his head.

  “You can. Let me help you, Tommy.” I take another small step toward him.

  “I said, stop!” he yells. “Don’t come any closer.”

  “Please let me help you. I promise, it will get better,” I plead.

  “It won’t,” he says, his eyes void of all hope. “It won’t.”

  The gun is still aimed in my direction. His arm shakes, and the gun vibrates in his hand.

  “It will. Put the gun down. Let’s talk it out.”

  “Talk doesn’t do shit,” he huffs.

  “It’s a start. We’ll figure out what will help. Okay? You’re not alone. I’ll fight this with you.”

  I take another step toward him, and everything happens so fast.

  The deafening bang rattles, too powerful for this small space. The forceful shock wave sends a warm gush of air and vibrations throughout the room. The floor shakes below my feet.

  The tiny metal assassin pierces my skin so quickly that I don’t feel pain, just immense pressure. I fly back, my arms flailing out. My back hits the ground hard, and my head lands so forcefully that I lose my sight. Everything slowly slips away from me. All I see is blackness, and all I hear is a formidable buzzing in my ears. The humming quiets. In the deep recesses of my mind, I beg the noise to stay, but it fades.

  I think of London and Lindi, but I can’t see their faces. And then they’re gone.

  It’s all gone.

  London

  “My dreams could never be complete without Loïc. It’s because of him that such beautiful dreams exist.”

  —London Berkeley

  “You’re the cutest,” I gush.

  Lindi is wearing a baby-blue dress. I tied matching bows around the pigtails atop her head.

  “The blue makes your eyes look so gorgeous,” I tell her even though I know she couldn’t care less.

  She’s focused on getting both of her baby dolls to stay in the plastic stroller designed for one baby.

  “Mommy should have gotten you a stroller for two babies. What was I thinking?” I help her position her dollies, so they both stay in.

  She takes off down the hall, pushing her babies and speaking gibberish. I watch her, a content smile on my face. Every day, I have to remind myself that this is my life. I have the perfect husband and daughter. Just having them both is more than I could have ever hoped for. Yet, on top of that, we have an awesome house, family, friends, and flexible jobs that we love. There’s happiness, and then there’s having a mega, amazing, superb, kick-ass life. And that’s what I have.

  I grab my phone off the table. I’m starting to get worried. Loïc hasn’t texted me back, and my parents’ plane lands in an hour. It’s not like him. Loïc is often late, as stuff always comes up with work. But he’s great at letting me know. He really is an awesome communicator. That thought makes me smile, as I think back to how horrible of a communicator he was when we first started dating. Gosh, we’ve both come such a long way.

  Lindi hands me a toy baby bottle.

  “You want me to feed your baby?”

  She nods her head. I sit down on the floor across from her, and we each feed one of the babies a bottle.

  “You’re a good mommy, Lin. You take such good care of your babies.”

  I smile to her. She smiles back at me, beaming with pride.

  “What are your babies’ names? I forgot to ask. What’s her name?” I hold up the doll that I’m feeding.

  “Ga,” Lindi answers.

  “What’s her name?” I point to the doll in her lap.

  “Do.” She grins.

  “Ga and Do?” I s
ay excitedly. “What great names!”

  Lindi giggles, and my phone rings from the kitchen.

  “I have to get that, Lindi Blue. Here, you take Ga. I’ll be right back.” I set the doll in front of Lindi and jog to the kitchen.

  The number on the display isn’t one that I know. I would usually let it go to voice mail, as it’s probably a work inquiry. But the area code is a local one, so I pick it up.

  “Hello? Yes, this is Mrs. Berkeley.”

  A woman speaks. I hear the name of the hospital. I know she’s trying to tell me something, but nothing she’s saying is resonating. My ears are ringing. My brain hurts. I drop the phone and fall to my knees, grasping my head. I’m sobbing.

  Only three words that the woman said penetrated through to my conscience.

  Husband.

  Shot.

  Surgery.

  Yet those three words are more than enough to render me completely helpless. My hands gravitate from my head to my chest. I rock back and forth. I can’t breathe. God, I can’t breathe.

  A small touch on my shoulder brings me back to myself. I look to Lindi. She holds a scared expression. It isn’t one I’ve ever seen on her, and the guilt that I caused it hits me in the gut.

  “Ma?”

  “Oh, Lin. I’m sorry. Mommy’s fine. Mommy’s fine,” I repeat, plastering a fake smile on my face. I pull her onto my lap. Wrapping my arms around her, I continue to rock.

  “We just need to…” God, what do I do? I can’t think straight. I need Loïc here to tell me what to do. I can’t do this without him. I can’t do life without him. “We need to go for a drive, Lin, and check up on Daddy.”

  “Da?” she asks sweetly.

  “Yes.” I pull in a deep breath. “We need to go see your daddy. He’s fine. He’ll be…I know he is. He will be fine. I know…I know it. He’s strong, your daddy, like a lion.” I’m having a hard time getting my reassurances out.

  Lindi roars.

  “Yeah, baby girl. Daddy’s strong, just like a lion. Let’s go see him.”

  I throw some toys, snacks, and diapers into a bag in record time. I get Lindi situated in her car seat, and then we head to the hospital. I don’t remember the drive, but we arrive safely.