“The heart is what makes a person most aware of physical attraction. It increases in speed. It begins to beat harder against the walls of the chest. It creates an erratic pulse whenever you’re around the person you’re attracted to.”
It’s quiet as he presses his fingers firmly against my wrist, waiting several seconds before he begins to speak. He grins a little, and I know it’s because my pulse has changed so much since we started this particular conversation.
“It doesn’t feel like that attraction is being manifested in the brain,” he says, pressing his other hand right over my heart. “It feels like it’s developing right here. Right behind the walls of your chest, in the very core of the organ that goes haywire.”
Jesus Christ. He pulls his hand from my chest and releases my wrist. He lowers his hands to my waist, gripping gently.
“We’re aware the heart doesn’t retain or produce actual emotion. The heart is simply a messenger, receiving signals directly from the brain that let the heart know when an attraction is present. The heart and the brain are in sync because they are both vital and they work as a team. When the heart begins to die, a flurry of signals is sent from the brain, which ultimately causes the demise of the heart. And in turn, lack of oxygen from the heart is ultimately what causes the demise of the brain. One organ cannot survive without the other.” He grins. “Or so we thought. In today’s lecture, we learned that a new study proves that if communication between the heart and brain is severed in the minutes before death, an animal lives up to three times as long as those whose heart-brain connection is still left intact. Which, if proven correct, means that when the chemical connection is severed between the two organs, one doesn’t immediately know when the other begins to die because they’re unable to communicate. Therefore…if the heart begins to die and the brain is unaware, it gives doctors more time to save the heart before the brain begins to shut down. And vice versa.”
I could honestly listen to him talk like this all day. “Are you saying that the heart and the brain might actually be detrimental to one another?”
He nods once. “Yep. It’s almost as if they communicate too well. The study suggested that if we can make one organ temporarily oblivious to the failing of the other organ, we may be able to save them both.”
“Wow,” I say. “That’s…fascinating.”
Jake smiles. “It is. I thought about it the entire drive over. Essentially, if we could figure out how to sever some of the communication between the heart and brain in non life-or-death situations, we could likely make it so that attraction wouldn’t manifest physically in a person.”
I shake my head. “But…why would a person not want to feel the full extent of an attraction?”
“Because,” he says, matter-of-fact. “That way when a doctor develops an intense attraction to a girl he meets while skydiving, his mind wouldn’t be completely distracted for every minute of the two weeks that follow, and he might actually be able to focus on his job instead of thoughts of her.”
His words make me blush so heavily, I immediately lean forward and lower my head to his shoulder so that he can’t see my reaction. He laughs at my response, running a hand up my back and into my hair. He presses a quick kiss to the side of my head.
I eventually pull back and look down on him. Everything he just said makes me want to lower my head again, but this time I want to lower it so that my mouth is positioned right against his. I refrain, though. Somehow.
He inhales and loses some of the smile in his eyes, trading it for a more serious expression. His hands slide up and then back down my arms. “I came back to the hospital to see you Saturday, but you were already gone,” he admits.
I close my eyes briefly. I wondered if he showed back up.
I don’t want to admit to him that I left before I should have. But I don’t want to lie to him, or even omit the truth. “I left Friday night. Before they discharged me.” I look him in the eyes, needing to explain myself before he passes judgment. “I know you’re a doctor and you’re going to tell me it was a stupid move, but I already know that. I just couldn’t take being there for another second.”
He stares back at me for a quiet moment, but he doesn’t look angry or annoyed. He just shakes his head softly. “I get it. I have patients who practically live in hospitals, and I know how draining it is, both emotionally and physically. Sometimes I want to look the other way and tell them to run because I know how much they don’t want to be there.”