Chapter 8 - The Beat Beneath the StethoscopeâSix months after she left for Chicago,â Ruth explained, tears of joy spilling down her cheeks, âa donor heart became available at Northwestern Memorial. Dr. Julian here led the transplant team.â
Dr. Julian stepped forward, his expression full of deep respect. âThe transplant was a complete success, Ethan. But her recovery took years. She stayed away because she thought you had moved on, built your empire, and that bringing her back into your life would reopen old wounds.â
Ruth took Ethanâs hand, leading him out the back door toward the snow-dusted garden behind the house.
Standing inside a warm, sunlit glass greenhouse surrounded by thousands of blooming white roses, lilies, and winter eucalyptus was Maya.
She wore a warm beige coat, a burgundy scarf wrapped around her neck, her brown hair styled in a messy bun. Her cheeks were pink with health, her eyes bright and glowing.
She was holding a watering can, looking down at a tray of seedlings.
Beside her, a golden wooden sign hung above the entrance: SUNDAY FLOWERS.
Ethan stood at the threshold of the greenhouse, his chest heaving, his eyes wide with profound, unshakeable wonder.
May you like
Maya turned around at the sound of his boots on the gravel.
The glass watering can slipped from her hand, shattering softly on the stone floor.
