I Give You My Heart

Sleuths' Ink held a contest for its members a couple of months ago. The guidelines were simple. The story must be no longer than 1000 words. It had to involve a crime. And the very last sentence had to be: I sat and watched as her heart slowed down, then stopped.


It seemed rather easy at first. But after consideration, I decided that the only way to actually SEE someone's heart stop is to be looking directly at it. Otherwise, you are only seeing the rise and fall of their chest. 

Here it is. I hope you like it.


BTW, I won.

I Give You My Heart

“What’s all this?” Carla entered the lake cabin we’d purchased once I’d established my medical career. It was the one place we could always go to get away from life’s hassles.

            “Just dinner.”  I lit the tall candle, then shook the match, extinguishing the flame. “Have a seat.”

            She approached reluctantly. “I don’t know why you called me here,” she said.  “There’s really nothing more to say. I still want a divorce.”

            I removed the lid from the lasagna, her favorite dish, letting the aroma drift her way. “We need to talk,” I told her. “And we do have to eat. This seemed like the perfect place to do both.”

            She made her way to the table and sat down. I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist. Carla had always admired my culinary talents. “Fine,” she said. “But nothing has changed.”  She sipped the wine.

            She was wrong about that, but I said nothing. I dished us each a helping of lasagna. I took the seat opposite her.

            “Do you remember what you said to me when we got married?”

            Her sigh filled the room. “Not exactly,” she admitted. “I’m sure we both said a lot of things.”             She bit into the lasagna. “I’m really sorry, you know. I swear I never meant to hurt you. Things just happen.”

            I ignored her comment. “You said that no matter what, I’d always have your heart.”

            Her eyes closed, as if remembering. “I meant it at the time.” She looked up. “Things changed. What do you want from me?”

            “Your heart.”

            She sipped the wine again. “I can’t give you that.”

            Wrong again, I thought. I nodded at her glass. “You should probably drink it all.”

            Her face froze into a mask of horror. “You poisoned me?” She clasped her hands to her chest.

            I smiled and reached over, patting her arm. "Not poison. But you really should drink it all."

            She slammed the glass onto the table with a thud. The contents splashed over the rim. “What have you done?  She tried to stand, but her shapely legs wouldn’t hold her. She clutched the table, balancing herself upright. “I need a doctor!”

            I smiled, sipped my wine. “I am a doctor.”

            “Wha ah ooh tahing bout?” Her words were slurred.

            “You promised me your heart.”

            Her terror-filled eyes were fading fast. I waited until her slender body slid to the floor. I got up. Felt for a pulse. Still beating, but slow and irregular. In the pantry, I retrieved the tarp and medical supplies I’d need. Working fast, I spread the tarp onto the floor and rolled her body onto it. Donning surgical gloves, I made a five-inch incision into the chest wall. Blood flowed, but I couldn’t worry about that now. Time was of the essence. The heart wouldn’t continue to beat for long.

            With perfected skill, I pried apart the sternum, separating the muscles, until I could see her heart beating with increased irregularity. Soon I’d have what I’d always wanted. What she’d promised me. Her heart.

            I sat and watched as her heart slowed down, then stopped.