Living Without a Heart

    Can you live without a heart? No, but my body doesn’t seem to realize that and its only a matter of time before it does. You see, my heart died two months ago today. The love of my life left me forever, and its all my fault. If only he had listened to me, if only I had made him understand that we didn’t need to go out. But he was always so stubborn; nothing could stop him from doing what he thought he had to do.

    I remember the day perfectly—I had just come home from work when I noticed that I had a message. I smiled when I heard my husband’s voice.

   “Liz? Damn, I wish you were there. Listen babe, I want to do something special for our anniversary so I asked Maria and Michael to take care of the kids tonight. I know you said that you didn’t want to do anything, that you wanted to just stay home, but it’s our tenth anniversary! All you have to do is wear one of your formal dresses and wait for me to pick you up. What, Alexis? Oh. Alexis says to wear your red one with the sparkles.”

    “Wear it, Mommy!” the four-year-old’s voice shouted.

    Max just laughed. “Well, I guess that’s it. I just have a few more things to do. Be ready by 7, honey. I love you.”

    I smiled happily to myself and danced my way to the shower. I couldn’t believe that it was already our tenth wedding anniversary—December 19, 2012. After a quick shower, I dried myself off and put on my dark red dress with the sparkles. It was Alexis’ favorite dress. Zane would probably have told me to wear jeans and then Serena would have called him a name and told me to wear something leather; that’s ten-year-olds for you. We have two other children: six-year-old Bella and Matthew, our 13 month old.

    Anyway, I did my hair and makeup and waited for my knight in shining armor to pick me up. When 7:30 rolled around and there was still no sign of Max, I began to worry. He was never late. I picked up the phone and called his cell phone, but he had apparently turned it off. I then called Maria to ask when he had dropped the kids off, but she said that he hadn’t shown. I could feel my stomach twist at the words. Something was very wrong.

    Just as I began to pace, the phone rang.

    “Max?” I practically yelled into the phone.

    I could hear the person on the other end draw a deep breath.

    “No, Liz, its Kyle. Do you think you could come down to the hospital?” the Sheriff asked.

    A hand clenched around my heart.

    “Why, Kyle? Is it Max? One of the kids? What’s going on?” I asked as tears started to well up in my eyes.

    “There’s—there’s been an accident. Please, Liz, just come down here,” my old friend pleaded.

    “Okay,” I murmured and ran out the front door of our two-story home. I jumped into my Lincoln Navigator and sped over to Roswell Memorial. I don’t really remember the drive over there; I just wanted to get there as fast as possible.

    A confused Jesse and Isabel Ramirez met me in the waiting room.

    “What’s going on, Iz?” I pleaded with my sister-in-law.

    The beautiful, pregnant blonde shrugged. “I don’t know. Kyle called me and told me to get down here. He said that there was an accident.”

    I nodded numbly and begin to pace again, waiting for someone to end the torture. Finally, a red-eyed Kyle Valenti walked into the room.

    “Kyle, what happened? What’s going on?” I cried, disturbed by the look on his face.

    “Oh, Liz. I don’t know how to tell you…” he trailed off as his voice cracked.

    “Tell me, dammit!”

    “Liz, there was an accident. Max was turning a corner when a drunk driver slammed into the car.”

    “Oh my God,” I murmured and sunk into a chair. “Kyle, tell me my family’s okay.

    “I wish I could…Liz, please understand that the doctors did everything they could—“

    “Kyle, just spit it out. Where is my husband? Where are my children?” I croaked.

    “None of them made it,” he finally said in a heartbroken voice.

    “No!” Isabel cried and clung to Jesse.

    I just sat there in shock—my life had just been ripped away from me and I wanted to die. After a few moments, I let out a heart-wrenching scream and took off in the direction of the ER. I found Max immediately.

    “Max!” I cried and threw myself on his body, sobbing uncontrollably. “You can’t leave me, you can’t! I can’t go on without you. You and the kids are my life. You can’t really be gone.”

    But he was, and so were our five precious children. Our adorable kids who had barely begun to live, who had so much potential, who were so loved. My Max, the love of my life, my soul mate. What was I to do now?

    We held their one, huge funeral three days later. I don’t remember much, but I do remember that Maria sang a song. I don’t know what it was, but I do remember that it was beautiful and fitting.

    So now its two months later and I’m once again sitting with my family, talking to them, pretending that they’re still here. I know that the others are worried, and they have every right to be. Because I can’t take it anymore and I think its time that my body realizes that I am dead and that I need to be put to rest.

    “I’m coming, Max,” I whisper and collapse to the ground before his headstone. I’m finally going home.

THE END

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