30 Day Image Prompt Competition

Day 30 Prompt 2 - Repairing the Broken Heart

         Emerging from the en-suite bathroom she saw that the bedroom was empty. She wasn’t surprised. It reflected how she was feeling at the moment. Empty and alone. With heavy feet she crossed the room and sat at the small dressing table.
         Was it possible to die of a broken heart? she wondered as she studied her reflection in the mirror. She looked like she was dying. Her face was pale, cheeks hollow from one too many missed meals. Dark shadows lay under blue eyes bloodshot and red rimmed. Her blond hair hung limply around her face, lank and lifeless. Just how she felt.
         On the table before her, the plain buff envelope sat half hidden beneath the small brown box. She hated that envelope and everything it stood for. All her hopes and dreams had died with the contents of that envelope.
         Feeling restless, she stood and crossed to the large bay window and stared out across the garden. One of the reasons they had purchased the house was because of the large garden. They had imagined their children playing on the smooth lawn before running into the large, family kitchen for a drink. After eating dinner they would carry the children up to their spacey bedrooms, filled with their favourite toys, get them ready for bed before retreating down the stairs to the comfortable family room. Those dreams were unlikely to come true, now, according to the experts.
         She blinked back the tears pricking at her eyes. Who would have thought that what had seemed to be a minor problem she had suffered since hitting puberty would cause so many problems as an adult. There had been no warning signs, nothing to alert her or her parents that something was amiss and needed attending to. The specialist had said that wasn’t unusual. Problems such as hers would only be diagnosed after extensive testing such as those she had recently undergone. Tests that had shattered everything she had built her future on.
         A sigh slipped from between her lips, heavy and desolate. It was wrong to keep wallowing in this self-pity but she found it hard to pull herself up out of it. Seven days had passed since they’d seen the specialist and heard his news. Seven days where she’d lived in limbo, aching and empty, filled with what might have been had everything turned out how it should. It was time to start picking the pieces up but it was hard, so hard.
         The small brown box caught her eye as it lay on the envelope. It’s dull, unobtrusive wrapping blending in with the buff envelope. It hadn’t been there when she had gone into the bathroom, she was certain of that. Had Nick put it there, she wondered as she walked across the plush carpet to the dressing table. He had still been in bed when she had gotten up, staring up at the ceiling with the same empty expression that had been on her face.
         Sitting back down on the padded stool she lifted the box up and turned it around in her hands. There was no writing on the box, no label or any mark of identification. The brown paper was secured by small pieces of sellotape that peeled off easily under her tugging. Beneath the wrapping, the brown box was as anonymous as the paper that had wrapped it. The cardboard was quite thick and rigid, reminiscent of the boxes that held fiddly screws and nails from the DIY store.
         She set the box down on the table’s surface and stared long and hard at it. Curiosity was tugging at her, pulling her out of the cushioned existence she had been enduring. With fingers that trembled, she raised the lid of the box and looked inside. An envelope lay on top of the box, hiding the contents from view. There was no name on the envelope nor was it sealed as she pulled it out. Underneath the envelope was a small, red heart with two plasters taped across it as though holding it together. She lifted the heart out and looked at it before retrieving the letter from inside the envelope.
         My dearest Beth
         I know you feel your heart is broken. I know mine feels as though it is. We’ve had a rough ride these past few months, chasing the rainbow’s end that always seemed just out of reach. However, the end of the rainbow isn’t permanently out of reach. We can still get there, it will just take a little longer than we anticipated.
         Whilst we travel this road, though, there is no reason why this love we have inside of us cannot be put to some good use. There are lots of lonely hearts looking for someone to take them home and give them love, a sense of being wanted, a home.
         I’m not talking about a child because I don’t think we’re ready to go down that route yet. There’s still some mileage in this hunt for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. No, there’s no reason why the pitter-patter of tiny feet can’t be the sound of four feet rather than two. What do you think? They say that children should have a pet and ours would be grown up and trained ready to accept the responsibility of being a child’s best friend.
         If you feel like you’d like to take this alternative route, look at the card enclosed with this note and meet me downstairs.
         I love you.
         Nick.
         A tear trickled down her face and splashed down onto the page before her. Dear Nick. She hadn’t realised that his suffering had been as deep as hers. He had hidden his grief whilst trying to be there for her, supporting her as her world had come tumbling down around her. Dashing the tears away she pulled the card out of the envelope and looked down at it. Covered with thumbnails of large dogs, small dogs, shaggy dogs and smooth ones. Puppies and adults all looked into the camera searching for that person who would fall in love with them and take them home.
         She studied each and every picture but her eyes kept returning to a young German Shepherd. Those amber eyes held so much in such a young face. Closing her eyes, she could picture him racing across the lawn playing football with a small child who laughed at his furry friend. This was what she wanted and this dog could put them on the road to that rainbow’s end.
         Thirty minutes later she went downstairs and into the large family room. Nick was sat at the small table in the bay window, absently turning his cup around on the place mat. He didn’t look up as she entered and came to stand by him. Without a word she placed the little red heart on the table before him. She watched as he stared down at the heart, now covered with a roughly cut picture of a German Shepherd pup held in place by the two pieces of plaster he had used.
         “I’m ready to have my heart repaired,” she said, softly. “Are you?”
         Nick looked up at her and the answering smile spoke a thousand words. Standing up, he took her hand in his and together they stepped out onto this new path to the rainbow’s end.