The Billionaire Throuple

Andreas Santiago

I can't say for sure whether the first sense that returns is touch, but it is the first one that has meaning to me. It comes before the bitterness in my mouth becomes iron, before the sharp scent in my nose becomes disinfectant, before the sound of steady pulses become beeps and before the light in my eyes become vision.

Touch becomes the feeling of Sam straddling me ever so carefully, so that I can feel his heart beating without him putting an ounce of weight on top of me. He's done this so many times for my sake to show that nothing has changed between us.

I know his heartbeat.

I've memorized it the same as I have his face, every detail has been immortalized in my mind. His unmistakable heartbeat is the first and only thing I can comprehend. It is the only thing that matters to me. Its thud is closer than ever and it's the best feeling I've ever felt or will ever feel. It instantly forges a smile on my face, knowing he's here makes the world seem right.

I want to cry happy tears and kiss his face because I never thought I'd see him again. I didn't know whether I'd be gifted anything in death, least of all a memory, but his love has always been worth remembering on the off-chance that I am. I'm glad there's still time before I find out.

The senses queued up behind my sense of Sam pour into my brain along with memories, sending me into a panicked euphoria. I can breathe. I have strength. I have more energy than I ever remember having. I'm so excited to let Sam know I feel better, that I feel like I'll outlive all earlier estimations, that he has a few more weeks to love me and for me to love him.

It seems miraculous until I feel soreness in my chest. The sharp pain is undeniable. It stands tall, despite modern medicine's toughest anesthesia. It confirms that I had a heart transplant. It reminds me that I have Cam's heart inside my chest. It reminds me of what Sam did to get it, so that I could survive. I can't think about that. That wasn't real. How could it have been if Sam is laying on top of me? It wouldn't be possible.

I open my eyes and say, "I love you Sam," to the thin, empty air above me.

My mind fails to comprehend his absence. I touch my hand to my chest and lurch forward violently as I feel my heartbeat; his heartbeat. Tears pour down my face. I understand two things and two things alone: Sam's heart is inside my chest, so Sam cannot be alive.

I am alive in a world where only Sam mattered and now I'll never see him again. I scream because I must be dreaming or in some sort of hell. I scream because I need there to be a different explanation, a better one. I need someone to tell me I'm wrong, that I'm loopy off drugs. I don't want to live without Sam.

I watch as familiar faces crowd around the bed. My father, mother, sisters and brothers, Nemo and even Philippe, but not Sam.

"Where's Sam?" I ask, "Nemo, where's  Sam?"

Nemo's face crumbles, confirming what I already know. He doesn't have to say a fucking word for me to understand. No one does. My body trembles uncontrollably as my breathing becomes panicked. A weight lands on top of my chest that's heavier than I've ever felt on my old fucked up heart. Back then, Sam was there to do the lifting. I can't do this on my own.

I don't want to.
I don't want to be alive without Sam.

No one can love me half as much and I won't even try loving them back. I'm inconsolable. I can't stop crying or screaming. I can't catch my breath. A nurse rushes into the room. Someone must've called for one. I have to be the saddest person who's ever woken up with a healthy heart inside their chest. I feel my body relax after a nurse mentions sedatives. Nemo hands me a letter and I recognize Sam's handwriting. I'll read it before I pass out. Forever, I hope.

My dearest Andreas,

If you are reading this, your heart transplant was a success and I couldn't be happier or more satisfied. It is most regrettable that I cannot be there to greet you upon your waking, that mine will not be the first eyes your hazels set upon, nor the last, nor any in between. I'll not deny that I've told terrible lies and done terrible things to procure your love, but once I had it, none can deny that I've loved you with all of my being. I've included a list of past transgressions on the reverse side. It is my hope that knowing them will relieve you of any grief you may have over my passing. If so, you needn't read further.

– FOLD –

If you're still carrying grief, please do not use it to mourn me, for I am not sad. Rejoice in knowing there is no better nor more romantic death than mine. My heart yet beats for the man I love and will continue to do so until your very last day. You needn't feel guilt should your heart race for another. 'Tis my heart that races as well and if it so happens to race for Nehemiah, know that everything is as it was and we are all still together.

Love always,

Samuel William Rothschild, III

P. S. You mustn't allow the Simulation, the last laugh. While beauty such as yours is inevitably doomed to martyrdom, with my heart, for once we've bested it, so smile to smite the bastard for me.

Reverse side

Our love was undeniably forged upon lies, but its mature form was no less pure nor honest.

A beautiful rose may yet bloom from detritus.

- I switched your answer key in trigonometry, so you'd fail, ensuring our meeting.

- I posed as the food critic who stood you up, so you'd feel guilty for ditching my birthday.

- I asked Nehemiah to pick up food at Luciano's, knowing you'd be there waiting.

- I siphoned fuel from his Buick to ensure you were both left stranded for my rescuing.

- I bought handmade gifts to gain your favor.

- I bugged the watchband I gifted you to spy and eliminate all other suitors.

- I set up Cameron by hacking his phone.

- I bought him legal counsel to ensure his punishment was staying out of our way.

And then, I loved you until my last breath.

And I wouldn't have changed a thing.