Misplaced (Completed)

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

I unlocked my front door and headed straight through. The cold air had numbed my body, but did nothing to numb the thoughts – all still muddled – that were running continuously through my mind. I needed to talk.

I ignored Mum and didn’t stop walking until I reached my room. I dumped my bag and changed my clothes into my pajamas, best to be comfy at a time of inner turmoil like now. My baggy clothes hung loosely, but were quickly warming me up. I had just settled down on my bed and whipped out my phone with the intention of ringing Tasha, when Bobbie walked into my room, tail swishing softly.

As if sensing my need for love and cuddles, she tinkered up to me, bell on her blue collar chiming as she went. She launched herself onto my bed where I quickly swooped her up and planted her over my shoulder, holding her like a baby, stroking the soft, white fur on her back. I buried my head in the side of her delicate body, finally letting tears escape the dam of my eyes. The infamous lump formed in my throat, preventing me from talking for a while; if I had wanted to talk, that is. As it was, I didn’t. Sometime later, I was ready to talk, and who was a better candidate to listen than my cat, laying on my lap, purring in content from my petting.

“I really don’t know what’s happened.” And I was having a hard time trying to make sense of everything that had happened. Not just what’s happened in the last hour, but everything that’s happened since my surgery, and even then I wasn’t at the root of the problem.

“How can I actually get over the fact that I have a part of his dead cousin's beating inside me, pumping the blood all around my body? I had her heart, a heart that beat so quickly and loudly when I was with Callum.

“How can he ever get over that?”

That’s how we met. We only know each other because I got his family member’s heart.

“No wonder he hated me from the start.”

He hated me, because it almost was as if someone had died to keep me alive. And it wasn’t just someone who he happened to know, it was someone who he was seemingly very close to. Someone he missed. And here I was, just walking around with a bit of her stitched into me.

“How could he live with me being in the same room as him, let alone a relationship?”

I just didn’t understand how it could have all worked out like this.

He hated me so much in the first month or so, and now it was painfully clear why he held such hostile feelings towards me. Then, as I spent more time with him, I guess he got used to the idea, saw it as a way to keep close to the only remaining part of his cousin. It was so difficult to fathom. It’s such a twisted turn of events, it’s like it couldn’t happen, it shouldn’t have happened.

“How can he date the person who has her heart?” I wondered aloud, still working Bobbie’s light fur with my fingertips. How can he be with me, without thinking of his deceased cousin every time?

“And why the hell didn’t he tell me!”

Alarmed from my outburst, my cat jumped off my lap, choosing to sit facing me on my bed instead. Her head was cocked to the side as I continued. “I know he said that I had ‘her’ heart, but how on earth was I supposed to know who ‘her’ was?”

In response, she flicked her tail from side to side as she laid down on the soft duvet covers.

“It’s just I spent a whole month dating the guy, and not once before did he think to tell me about all of this.”

It was then that I began to pace around the room, trying, and failing, to figure everything out. Why didn’t he tell me sooner? Why did he tell me now? What was the revelation supposed to accomplish? Why hadn’t I asked the question before?