When I Gave Him My Heart, He Regretted It

Chapter 7

The snow was falling harder now, fat white flurries swirling and drifting through the air without end.

The cold bit even sharper, seeping straight through my clothes to gnaw at my bones.

Ethan's boots crunched through the thick snow cover, his figure shrinking smaller and smaller as he walked further away.

I pulled my instant camera out of my bag and snapped a photo of his retreating back.

This was the last photo of him I would ever take.

I didn't want to go back to the hospital.

Luna drove me home. All through the ride, she pointed at the street signs and repeated over and over, "Zoe, you have to remember our home is at 458 Hattan Road. Once you walk into the complex, our place is right by the third locust tree you see."

"I won't forget, Luna."

I let out a small, wobbly laugh, and my vision blurred all at once.

Ghosts are so light, after all. I wondered if a single gust of wind would be enough to blow me apart into nothing.

We stepped through the front door.

Luna didn't stop to catch her breath for even a second. She headed straight for the kitchen to make my favorite seafood noodles.

Warm, curling steam billowed out from the kitchen, wrapping around me like a soft blanket. For a second, the constant, throbbing pain in my body didn't feel quite so unbearable.

Every time I left town for a long trip back then, Luna would worry I wouldn't like the food out there, so she'd always cook a huge, steaming bowl of seafood noodle soup for me before I headed out.

I stared down at my bowl and ate, too scared to meet Luna's eyes. Hot tears slipped down my cheeks and plopped right into the broth.

I spoke softly, "Mom, just pretend I'm going on another long trip, okay? Think of me once in a while, but don't miss me too much."

The silence across the table stretched on and on.

The only sound in the still room was the shaky, muffled catch of her holding back sobs.

I peeled the backing off the photo of Ethan's back and stuck it on the very last page of my diary.

When I lifted my pen to write, it suddenly felt impossibly heavy to get the words down.

My stomach, my head, my heart—every part of me ached like someone had carved them out with a dull knife.

My hand trembled so badly I could barely hold the pen. I gripped it as tight as I could, forcing each stroke into the paper one slow, wobbly line at a time.

February 20, 2025.

Ethan, this winter in Jorham is so long.

You know how much I hate the cold, but I want this winter to last longer. Just a little longer.

When I become a star up in the sky next year, I swear I'll watch over you, keep you safe...

A tear plopped onto the page, blurring the ink into a dark, spreading splotch.

I lifted my head. Outside the window, a biting wind howled past, sending dead leaves swirling through the air.

In a daze, I felt like I'd been transported back to a Lunar New Year's Eve from years ago.

Luna and Robert were both on duty at work. Every house glowed with warm light as families gathered together for their reunion dinners, but I was all alone, huddled in the dark.

Ethan called me. "Zoe, count to the fifth falling leaf, and I'll give you a surprise, yeah?"

I scoffed and called him silly, but I did as he said anyway. I'd barely counted the fifth leaf when brilliant, blazing fireworks burst right outside my window, painting the sky in streaks of neon.

Ethan was standing right downstairs, snow dusting his hair, chest heaving like he'd run all the way there.

He waved both arms wildly up at me, grinning. "Zoe, is it pretty?"

It looked like every star in the sky had fallen right into his eyes.

"Whenever you're sad in the future, just count falling leaves, okay? I'll show up the second you hit five!"

Now, I counted silently to myself, on and on. Fifth leaf, tenth, fifteenth...

Ethan never showed up.

You liar, Ethan.

But it's fine. I forgive you.

When next spring's breeze turns the leaves green, I'll be gone from this world for good.

No one will be left to miss you, to think of you. You'll be totally free.

*****

At Benford Estate.

Ethan lit a cigarette and stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, wondering when this snow season would finally pass.

"Cuckoo-cuckoo."

A cuckoo chirped outside the window.

Jake came bounding over, eyes bright with excitement. "Who hears a cuckoo in the dead of winter? That's such a good sign, Ethan!"

He clapped Ethan on the shoulder, practically bouncing on his heels he was so hyped. "Ethan, we got a donor heart. We can check into the hospital to get ready for the transplant!"

The cuckoo had chirped exactly eight times.

Folklore says eight cuckoo calls are a mourning cry for someone who has just passed away.

Ethan kept staring out at the snow-covered scenery, but Zoe's face popped into his head unbidden.

When had she gotten so thin and fragile? Standing out there in the snow, she looked like a single flake could knock her right over.

"Ethan, did you hear me? We found a donor heart! You're not gonna die! You're saved!"

Jake repeated himself when Ethan didn't react, voice louder this time.

Jake thought to himself.

Fate was fair, after all.

Ethan had lost that awful, scheming woman, and for a minute it looked like he'd lost his shot at a life-saving transplant too.

But now, look how things turned around—he's found his true love, and a donor heart finally turned up.

*****

Ethan's surgery went off without a hitch.

His body didn't show a single sign of rejecting the new heart.

"Mr. Parker, this heart might as well have been custom-made for you. I've performed over a thousand heart transplants in my career, and you're the first patient who's had zero rejection reactions."

The lead surgeon, who had over a thousand transplant operations under his belt, kept shaking his head in awe.

His mind drifted back to three years prior, the first time he'd matched with a donor heart.

Back then, the doctor had told him that getting through the rejection phase would be his second brush with death.

Zoe had held his hand tight that day, her voice soft and reassuring.

"Ethan, the person who donated this heart definitely wanted you to live well, so they'll watch over you and help you get through this."

Ethan snapped back to the present, annoyed that he'd let his thoughts drift to Zoe again.

He shut his eyes, forcefully shoving the memory to the back of his mind.

He rested, recovered, and dived straight back into work.

One fine spring day, with bright sunlight flooding the air, it suddenly hit him—he hadn't seen Zoe in ages.

It was like she'd vanished off the face of the earth, yet again.

She'd done the exact same thing three years ago, popping in and out of his life on a whim.

If she'd just told him her dad had stomach cancer back then, he would have sold every last thing he owned to help her get through it.

Hell, even if she'd lied to him about it, he would have understood if she'd just explained herself afterward.

But no—she'd had to keep the whole thing from him.

Did she really think he wouldn't stick by her through thick and thin? Or did she just not believe how much he cared about her?

His thoughts spiraled deeper and deeper.

Then he sighed, shaking his head. What was the point of dwelling on it? It was all in the past now.

She was getting married soon, and he had a whole new life to build.

People you've already missed? There's no point in running into each other again.

*****

Three years later.

Ethan was invited back to his alma mater for their anniversary celebration, to give a speech as a top former student.

After his speech, his old classmates dragged him along to a reunion dinner.

Inside the private dining room, gold-foil name cards stood on every place setting, glinting softly under the warm yellow wall lights.

Classmates trickled in one by one, the door swinging open and shut over and over.

Only the seat marked for Zoe stayed empty.

Everyone started catching up, chatting about how their careers had gone the past three years, the TV shows and movies they'd worked on, the actors they'd collaborated with, and what was going on in their personal lives these days.

Blair Hayes, a total gossip, cornered Ethan and pelted him with nonstop nosy questions.

"Ethan, we heard ages ago you had some big good news on the horizon! How come you didn't invite any of us old classmates to your wedding?"

Ethan denied it calmly, "I'm not married."

Blair's face fell in obvious disappointment. "Really? I saw photos of that girl online before, she's so pretty, and she looks so much like Zoe..."

She cut herself off mid-sentence, clamping her mouth shut abruptly.

After that, every time the conversation veered toward the dramas Zoe had acted in, or projects people had worked on with her, the whole group automatically shifted away from the topic, like they'd all agreed to avoid it beforehand.

Ethan took a slow sip of the amber liquid in his glass. "You don't have to dance around the topic. Whatever was between us is long over. No need to be so hush-hush about it."

As he spoke, his gaze landed on Zoe's name card on the table. He tossed out a casual question, "Zoe still isn't here. Can one of you shoot her a WeChat to ask what's up?"

The second those words left his mouth, the entire room went dead silent.

The quiet dragged on for what felt like forever, until someone finally looked over at him with a complicated expression. "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

Ethan was confused, but a tight, heavy ache had already bloomed in his chest unprompted. He forced himself to look unbothered, swallowing hard as he pressed on, "What, did she have a kid? Can't get away from home or something..."

"You really have no idea?" Blair cut him off, her voice sharp and heavy.

Irritation pricked at Ethan. "What exactly am I supposed to know about her?"

A beat of thick, heavy silence hung in the air before someone spoke up, quiet and flat, "She had stomach cancer. She died three years ago, in the winter."