Pieces of a Mending Heart (31 page)

             
“Katherine Prince, graduate with advanced honors, member of the National Honors Society, and recipient of the Susan Caputi Scholarship to Northwestern University in Illinois, where she will be studying psychology,” says Miss. Nicholson.

             
The steps towards my principal seem to take a lifetime, but once I’m there, I feel as if everything is happening at warped-
speed. Clapping fills the auditorium and I spot my mother and Aunt Rachel snapping pictures in the third row. I descend the stairs and impatiently wait until they finish calling students.

             
“Congratulations to the class of 2014. Live well, pupils. I have no doubt you will do wonderful things,” our principal announces, and the sentiment feels achingly familiar.

             
I don’t have time to ponder my curiosity, because caps are flying towards the ceiling and arms are wrapping around me. Person after person embraces me, passing me through the crowd like a ragdoll. I trip on a stray foot and tumble into the arms of the person I love more than anything in this world.

             
“Congratulations, angel. Looks like we made it after all,” he says, holding me close. “Thank you, for being all I need and all I want.”

             
Tears form in my eyes and spill over, but not out of sadness. Joy is what causes the wetness in my eyes to drip down my face, and Tristan wipes my tears away with his thumbs, but more fall. I am overjoyed with the knowledge that this is a new beginning, a chance to help others and do something that will leave an impact on the world.

             
“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” Tristan asks, looking like he needs to escape the crowd.

             
I nod and we basically sprint towards his truck, tears still falling and leaking into my mouth through my smile.

             
“Where do you want to go?”

             
The statement is very literal in this moment, but it registers with much more depth. I can go anywhere I want to from here, because this is my life now. I have all I need and want sitting next to me and the light that is our future is so bright it blinds me for a moment.

             
“Anywhere.”

Epilogue

             
“Ready?” a voice asks from behind me as arms encircle me in their warmth. I sink into their embrace for only a moment before whipping around, returning to my hasty state of undress.

             
“Do I
look
ready, Tristan? I can’t believe you sprung this on me!” I say, walking over to our closet and pulling out a black cocktail dress. I slide my towel to the floor and wiggle into the most perfect dress I have ever owned.

             
Tristan leans against the doorframe, watching me with an amused expression. “Angel, it’s just me. You don’t need makeup to be beautiful,” he says, just trying to placate me. It works.

             
I put on my red high heels, which add at least four inches to my legs, bringing me closer to Tristan’s six-foot-two height.

             
“You, sir, are lucky you’re so damn adorable. Otherwise I would be beyond pissed at you right now for springing a fancy dinner on me with an hour notice!” I say, jabbing him in the chest with my finger, but he just grabs my hand and pulls me towards the door.

             
We’re sitting at our favorite fancy restaurant, the one we go to at least once a month, for no real reason other than we
like to enjoy ourselves. Our apartment is right down the block, so we walk instead of driving.

             
“What do you think about me getting my last name changed to my mother’s maiden name?” I ask as I sip my
coke
.

             
Tristan doesn’t look surprised. We’ve talked about this before. “If you’re hell-bent on changing your last name…” he shakes his head, sounding irritated.

             
He’s told me numerous times that he loves my last name and that I shouldn’t let the past define my future, but I can’t have a successful career as a psychiatrist when all everyone thinks of when they hear my name is
David Prince, psycho killer
. 

             
“If you’re hell-bent on changing your last name,” he repeats, recapturing my attention. He knows exactly when I space out. Tristan stands, making me raise my eyebrows in confusion. “Then why don’t you change it to mine?”

             
He kneels in front of me, pulling a box out of his jacket pocket and opening it. The ring inside is perfect, just like the man holding it. My world is finally complete, the grievances of the past forgotten.

             
As he slides the ring on my finger, the last piece of my mending heart clicks into place. At last, I am finally whole.

The End

Acknowledgements

             
First and foremost I want to thank the Lord for giving me the inspiration and willpower to write a novel about his everlasting love… and for giving me my very own second chance.

             
My entire family for encouraging me and keeping my spirits high when all I wanted to do was rip my hair out
. M
om
, Aunt Dee, Aunt Lori, and Nani, t
hanks for being the four most amazing women in my life, and I love you all very much.

             
Laura, Jennifer, Catie, Sammy, Hailey Rose, Julia and Alexis for showing me that God really is in those around us.
Thanks to all my
other
friends and teachers at Mount St. Mary’s for
urging me to keep writin
g Katherine and Tristan’s story.

             
Lastly, thank you to Mrs. Schiavone, Mr. Rajczak, and Mr. Feltges for instilling in me a love of writing and literature I didn’t know existed in my heart. To you I will always be
grateful
,
because it was the three of you who helped me see the beauty in the words around me.
I w
ill never forget the lessons I’ve learned from you
, so thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

About the Author

Kristina Rovison is a high school junior, born and raised in Buffalo, New York. She has a passion for literature and writing stories with the hopes of inspiring others. If you wish to contact her, look for her author page on Facebook,
www.facebook.com/KristinaMRovisonYAauthor
.

Be on the lookout for Kristina’s second novel, re
leasing in the summer of 2013.

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