Page 41 of The House on Haven Way

Harry Rogers looks so shocked that if he wasn’t dead, I would worry about him having a stroke or something. “Poison you? What?”

“You know how I died?” It’s both a lead-in and a question, and Harry takes it as the second option.

“You died from peritonitis caused by a ruptured appendix spewing bacteria and other gunk into your organs, bringing about the onset of sepsis. Death was hastened by dehydration from intense vomiting, a partially occluded airway, and aspiration into the lungs.”

“Say what?”

“Your leaked shit into your vital organs and bloodstream, and you had vomit in your throat and lungs, but were too dizzy or weak to get it out. I should have stayed that night. I was so mad that I hadn’t asked Nancy out when I had the chance, and then you... You didn’t love her like I did; I could just tell,” Harry says in a pleading voice. “I wanted to punch you. I never poisoned you. When Manny Finklestein found you the next day, I almost died from guilt. If I had just gone back to explain and try to convince you... If I had noticed the signs and not thought, ‘Yeah, he’s sick with nerves, the idiot, proposing to the woman he doesn’t even love...’” Harry hangs his head. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“Sure thing. But you owe me, all right?”

“Uh. I’ll try?”

“Tell Nancy I’m happy for her. Tell my brothers and my parents that I’m doin’ fine, and I’ll be home in another seventy years, give or take. Found the right girl—finally. Third? I’m gonna need a push,” I point back at the misty, gray portal that’s dwindling to nothing.

For a moment, the distinguished middle-aged Harry Rogers melts into that young, tanned heartthrob in his white orderly’s uniform with a toothy grin that melted all the girls and always made me laugh. “You mean you want me to hit ya?”

“With everything you got, Harry,” I smiled and turn my face towards home. Towards Amber, waiting for me. Waiting for me at home.

October 1st, 2026

I cried until I couldn’t breathe. I cried until I fell onto the floor, then considered...

Well, I considered some really dark things for a few hours.

I finally know what heartbreak is. What love is.

How you can give it all up to save the man you love—and you can live with a broken heart that’s still beating because you did the right thing for him.

I cry some more. I cry until my vision is blurred, my head is pounding, and my shoulders and neck feel like they’re in a vise from tension.

I lie on the floor, unmoving except for the convulsive sobs that keep coming back without warning.

“I don’t know what Doc Kevin is gonna say about this, Amber. You’ve been busting that beautiful ass three times a week, had massages that last hours every night, and you’re in worse shape than you were two weeks ago. C’mon, sweetheart. Dry your eyes.”

I shudder out a gasp as I feel hands gently land on my shoulders. “Johnny?” I try to sit up.

Can’t.

But Johnny scoops me up. “Listen. I’ll go when I’m ready. I saw Harry Rogers—looking good. Hair a little thinner, a little grayer, sporting some of Nancy’s good cooking around his middle. Cleared everything up. He’s the good man, good friend I thought he was before suspicion got to me. I told him to tell my parents and brothers I’ll be home soon.”

“Soon?” I whimper. I can’t go through this again. Not in the next five minutes. Or five months. Five years won’t be enough to be this brave twice.

“Seventy years, give or take. That’s soon on the eternal spectrum, right? When you’re ready to go, I’ll walk you home, Amber. All right?” Johnny’s face comes into focus as he cradles me against his chest.

“I wanted you to be happy,” I explain in a thick, cloudy voice.

“I know that, sweetheart. I know that. But I can’t be happy knowing you’re down here waiting. That’s what real love is. I know that now. I know I can’t be happy without you, and that Heaven can wait until you go with me.”

“Oh. Oh, Johnny, that means... you gave everything up because you think we’re permanent.”

He puts me down on the bed in my room. I guess it’s our room now.

“Let me show you something.”

In seconds, Johnny’s shirt is gone.

His tattoo seems bigger. Brighter.