Free Chosen Heart by Ann Stewart, Stephanie Nash

“Sometimes
it’s hard to make sense of things with so much happening around me, so I come
here to find solace.”
    It’s beautiful up here and the
comfort of this perfect place does something to you.  It calms you, but
more than that, it consoles you.  Staring ahead in amazement, there is
something I have to disagree with.  “You seem so…put together.  I
would have never pictured you as someone who needed to find peace out in the
middle of the desert.”
    “Constantly playing a role is
exhausting,” he admits, looking over at me with a smile.  Breaking my
concentration, I return the look, but not before my breath hitches.  Why
does he have to be so perfect?  Besides, what role is he talking
about?  The only role I can see him playing is the sexy, achingly
beautiful V.P.; oh, and that of a sweet, attentive grandson.
    Realizing my confusion, he helps
me out with an answer.  Pointing to himself, “Mr. Cool, Calm, and
Collected V.P., remember?”  Prying his eyes away from mine, he continues
to stare out into the vast sky.  It’s hard to tell with him, but it
appears he’s let his guard down, giving me a small glimpse into who he truly
is.
    “I can’t imagine.  It’s hard
enough just living, let alone putting up a façade.”
    “I’m sure you don’t have to put
up any type of guise.  You’re kind and smart.  I’m sure you’ll have
no problems moving your way up in all aspects of your life, career included.”
    Looking out the side window, I
blush at his compliment.  He has faith in me, which is sweet and
intoxicating.  But, he doesn’t know me well enough to know what I’m really
capable of.  All I’ve ever wanted is to earn a living that will allow me
to give Rachel back what she gave up.  Hopefully, there will be a time,
and a place, for that discussion.  But, it’s not tonight.
    “Let’s hope I can live up to
that.”
    Silence is upon us once again as
we both stare out at the glistening lights of the strip.  Peeking over at
him, I notice he’s no longer looking out at the infinite skyline; instead he’s
looking down at his hands.  A man of few words, he has a habit of losing
himself in thought quite frequently.  I silently wonder if it has anything
to do with his grandmother.  For someone who has to take care of another
person, he seems to be handling it well, but I can see the heartbreak on his
face.
    “You know you have your
grandmother’s eyes?”  He looks at me with a slight glimmer of
happiness.  “You’re very sweet to her.”  His grimacing face alerts me
that this discussion may be headed down a road that he is not ready for.  
Sometimes it’s best to leave well alone.  But, I guess I’m still learning
that lesson.
    “It’s the least I can do…” His
voice trails off as his brows furrow while he remains deep in thought.
    “How long has she been…?” I pause
searching for the words to describe her condition.  Still staring at the
neon lights in front of me, I catch myself playing with my ring and have to
stop myself.  I’m not nervous, anxious, or otherwise.  This feeling
is new.  Content?  Happy?  Alive, maybe?
    “She has her good moments and
some bad.  Tonight was obviously not one of her best.  She responds
to me still, but the doctors say her memories are slowly fading and soon she
won’t respond to me either.”  His voice lightens, trying to remove the
depression from the conversation.  “But what do they know right? 
It’s just me and her against the world.  They’re fucking kidding
themselves if they think I’ll ever let them get close enough to restrain her.”
    His last comment stings and I
imagine this is a part of what’s been bothering him tonight.  His conviction
is unwavering and in that moment I realize that he’s fighting for not only his
sanity, but also his grandmothers.  Refusing to allow anyone to treat her
any less than the woman she is, even with her deteriorating health.  It’s
no longer his perfect