Page 22 of Defend Her Heart

Looking to his parents on the couch, I ask for silent permission to talk about his transplant. Some parents prefer we steer conversation away from anything medical, just to keep the mood light. His mom looks up to his dad, then they both turn to me and nod.

“That must have been really disappointing. Thinking you’re getting a new one and then not getting it at the last minute.”

Scotty nods up and down, his gaze still dropped in front of him. I don’t say anything. I let this young boy work through emotions no seven-year-old should have to work through. Finally, he looks back up at me.

“I’m scared.” Tears pool in his eyes and he swipes at them aggressively once they begin to fall.

My throat tightens and it’s hard to swallow for a moment. These visits mean so much to me…but damn, they can be so fucking heartbreaking sometimes. It kills me to know that they’re facing so much fear and disappointment at a young age. I know I can’t fix things for them, but if I can offer them just a little bit of hope or comfort, then it’s worth every crack in my chest.

“It’s okay to be scared.”

Scotty swipes one last tear from his cheek then climbs to his knees before turning and crossing his legs under himself so he’s directly in front of me now.

“But you never get scared. You’re always sticking up for your teammates on the ice. My mom told me that punching is never okay, but you do it sometimes because you need to protect your goalie and stuff.”

I chuckle and then look over to his mom who is wiping her own tears away. Looking back at Scotty, I shrug.

“Well, your mom is right. It’s never okay to hit anyone. That’s why I get penalties when I do it during a game.” Scotty and his parents all laugh. I wait until his focus is on me again before admitting something to him. “But I get scared sometimes. I think everyone does.”

He tilts his head, an inquisitive look on his face. “What are you afraid of?”

My heart hammers in my chest. There was a time I used to be scared of a lot of things. Letting my sister down. Letting my grandparents down. Letting Avery down. Because I did let them down. I let every single one of them down. Now I channel all of that into my job.

“Well, sometimes I’m afraid I’ll let my team down. If I’m not playing well every game, we might lose.”

Scotty reaches out and places his tiny hand on top of mine where they’re resting on his bed rail.

“But, Mr. Smith, as long as you try your best, you won’t let anyone down.”

For some reason, these simple words coming from a seven-year-old pack a punch. If only it were that easy. Because even though I tried my best as a kid, I still got angry and got into a ton of trouble my grandparents had to deal with, therefore affecting my sister in the process. And no matter how hard I tried to be who Avery needed, I knew I had to let her go.

Memories begin to flood my brain, but I shake them away before they can pull me under.

“You’re right, Scotty. Which is why it’s okay to be scared about your transplant. Scared that it won’t happen again or scared that it actually might. But you know what?”

He shakes his head, his eyes wide as he anxiously waits for me to continue.

“The doctors here arealwaystrying their best. They are some of the smartest doctors in the whole world. And I know they’ll work their hardest to get you a new liver. Even if it doesn’t happen tomorrow.”

Scotty breaks out into a full-toothed smile, revealing a gap between two of his lower teeth.

“You’re right! Thanks, Mr. Smith!”

Scotty’s parents stand, and I shake their hands, wishing them all luck before finally making my exit. He was my last visit of the day, which means it’s time to head to physical therapy.

While I’m waiting for the elevator, my mind drifts to the memories that resurfaced while talking to Scotty. I push away the darker memories, specifically the day I let Avery go, and try to remember the good ones.

The elevator dings and I step in, pushing the button for floor three. As soon as it lights up, I’m reminded of the way Avery’s eyes did the same thing when we first met. When I close my eyes, I can almost imagine I’m there with her now. Her in my arms, not a care in the world, on one of the best nights of my life.

AGE SIXTEEN

I watch in amazement as Avery finishes the last piece of her pizza, absolutely smashing the entire pie herself. After she takes her last bite, she dabs the corner of her mouth with a napkin and proceeds to throw it at me because I haven’t taken my eyes off her once during the last ten minutes.

“Don’t look at me like that! With all the calories I burn off every day on the ice, I need the carbs. A girl’s gotta eat.”

Taking the cloth napkin off my face, I see Avery with her arms crossed, scowling at me with all the sass in the world.

“I’m not looking at you like anything. I’m impressed!”