The Fate Of Broken Hearts

Chapter 43

I softly scrubbed Aiden's reddened cheeks with a white cloth dampened by alcohol. I was so focused on the cuts and gashes on his pale skin that I didn't notice his gaze on me. He observed every move I made no matter how small. The white rag didn't stay white for long. With each precise stroke, a seething pink replaced it.

One cut on the side of his forehead was matted with a lock of his hair, making him wince when I lightly yanked it away. However, the big gash on his lower lip, swollen and red, was the one that scared me the most.

Every movement I made to clean the wound just made him feel worse.

"Alright... I think we're done." I told him, looking over every wound to make sure I hadn't missed anything that could get infected.

"Give it to me straight, Doc." He raised a wary brow. "Will I live?"

I snorted and packed away the first-aid case. "You're expected to make a full recovery."

He stared at me with a subtle curl on his lips. Seamlessly, his dark eyes wandered over my face again and again, but he never spoke a word.

"What?" I asked him curiously.

His voice darkened smoothly. "You don't know how beautiful you are, do you?"

A flood of heat raced to my cheeks, clouding my mind to the point that I couldn't think of what to say or how to reply.

"Now can I give you presents?" He beamed up at me with pure elation.

When I nodded, he shot out of his chair and rushed to the table where he had set down his box.

He carried it with two hands and set it down on the counter, gesturing for me to open it quickly.

"Oh, wait." He held up a finger and searched the pockets of his jumper.

He seemed to find what he was looking for when he pulled out a large, thin envelope and placed it in my hands.

I slid my finger under the flap and took out a white card with a bear holding a balloon on the front. I opened it, finding a neat, handwritten paragraph inside.

'I know we don't have a lot of good memories together, or even many memories at all, but I wanted to give you something that you could use to remember the new memories we will make, like a photo album that you can always come back to. I couldn't think of a better way to do that than with one of the things you love most. I know you have a fondness for music and symphonies, I've seen the look of joy on your face whenever you hear the sound of a piano key being struck. If this gift can ever make you smile the way Bach or Beethoven does, then it was definitely worth every penny. Happy birthday.

-A.'

Aiden's sweet words fuelled me with warmth.

"Aiden... that's so sweet."

"Go on, open it."

I moved the first-aid kit aside in order to make room and reached for Aiden's box.

"What is it?" I asked him, admiring its significant size.

He rolled his eyes with the prevalent grin on his face. "Just open it."

I did what he requested, feeling a surge of excitement inside me, and began untangling the tape that held the wrapping paper together, careful not to damage it.

As soon as I successfully removed all the wrapping paper and folded it beside me, I was met with a matte green suitcase with a black leather handle. I ran my hand over the surface of the case, enjoying how the small bumps felt on the palms of my hands and the tips of my fingers.

I clicked the case open and my smile coiled up immediately.

"It's a record player..." I grinned wider. "You got me a record player?"

"Do you like it?" He asked with wide, nervous eyes. "It's vintage. I had it restored and painted for you."

"I love it!" I squealed. "It's incredible!"

"Really?" He mimicked my smile. "Wait, but there's more."

"There's more?"

He rummaged through the box and took out a couple of records.

"Something to get you started on your collection. I don't know all your favorite songs yet, but I got you a few that I knew you'd like, including some you already know. There's Vivaldi, Schuman, and Chopin in there too."

"I can't imagine how much this cost you..."

"It was worth every penny." His hair bounced on his forehead as he ran a hand through it.

"Thank you, Aiden. This is... this is amazing."

"Alright, come here." He waved me over, looking at the pretty green case.

"Do you want to play a song?"

"You know how it works?"

"I do. My parents used to have one when I was little."

"What happened to it?"

"It broke... most of the records were scratched anyway."

"Well, then I'm glad I got you a new one."

I took out a shiny black record from one of the slips and held it by the edges, ready to put it into the player.

"Thank you for these gifts, Aiden. Really."

"You don't need to thank me, Emma," He said. "I'm just glad you like them."

"I really do."

Aiden lifted the needle and waited for me to put the record in. Then, he lowered it and aligned it perfectly with the thin lines until the music scratched and the notes began playing.

There was always something about record players that made the music seem distorted, but I liked that about them. I liked that the sounds weren't perfect, that the soft abrasions of the needle tracing the lines made subtle noises.

"Do you want to listen to it softly?" I asked him.

He nodded, taking a deep breath and moving toward the couch.

I moved the small nozzle of the device to the left and lowered the volume just enough so that it was background noise.

"Baby steps." I thought to myself.