The City That Forgot Its Own Heartbeat by Amira Sloane Vex 9 Summary
In Chapter 9 of “The City That Forgot Its Own Heartbeat,” the protagonist reflects on the passage of time since she last saw Lawrence, feeling the weight of his absence keenly. Following a traumatic event, Garret has moved them to a sterile hotel, leaving her unable to pack any belongings from the Guthrie residence, as though they are tainted by the past. The persistent calls from Wendy and Maurice serve as painful reminders of a life she is trying to escape, but Garret’s firm stance silences their pleas, cutting off any hope of reconciliation.
The emotional climax occurs when Lawrence appears, desperate and vulnerable, kneeling before Garret, pleading not to be separated from the protagonist. This moment echoes a similar scene from their childhood, highlighting the passage of time and the fragility of their connection. Despite his sincere promise to care for her, Garret’s cold refusal to grant Lawrence’s request underscores the harsh realities of their situation, leaving Lawrence defeated and the protagonist feeling a tumult of conflicting emotions.
As the protagonist prepares to leave, she is confronted by Wendy’s heartfelt plea for her to return and see Lawrence. The emotional turmoil leads her to a decisive moment where she chooses to sever ties with her past, symbolized by throwing her phone away. This act of finality marks her commitment to moving forward, despite the pain it brings.
Arriving in New York, she begins to rebuild her life, focusing on her studies and therapy. The fleeting news about Lawrence’s struggles post-accident serves as a reminder of their intertwined past, yet she feels detached, like a ghost in his life. Celebrating her acceptance into Columbia University, she receives a congratulatory email from Lawrence but chooses not to respond, blocking him instead. This decision reflects her determination to embrace her new reality and let go of the past, reinforcing her belief that holding onto it would signify weakness.
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**The City That Forgot Its Own Heartbeat by Amira Sloane**
**Chapter 9**
Days had slipped by like grains of sand, and I realized with a jolt that I hadn’t laid eyes on Lawrence in what felt like an eternity.
After everything that had transpired, Garret made the decision to relocate us to a hotel, a sterile and impersonal place that felt like a temporary holding cell rather than a home.
As I stood in the unfamiliar room, I couldn’t bring myself to pack a single item from the Guthrie residence. Not one trinket, not a cherished memory; I left it all behind as if it were tainted.
Wendy and Maurice had been persistent, their calls ringing through like echoes of a past I was desperate to escape. Each time they reached out, Garret’s voice was firm and unyielding.
“It’s our fault for not taking good care of Bev. That’s why she got hurt, but—”
“There’s no ‘but.’ If you didn’t take care of her, you didn’t take care of her,” Garret interrupted sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument. “There’s no point in you seeing Bev now.”
After that, the phone calls from the Guthrie family ceased, drowned in Garret’s resolute silence.
And now, here stood Lawrence, mere feet away from us, a figure I had once known so intimately.
I remained silent, my heart a tumult of emotions I couldn’t articulate.
Then, in a moment that felt suspended in time, Lawrence sank to his knees before Garret, desperation etched across his face. “Mr. Kiefer, please don’t take Bev away. I swear I know I was wrong,” he pleaded, his voice trembling with vulnerability. “From now on, I’ll take care of Bev, I promise.”
It was a haunting echo of a scene from a decade ago, when Lawrence, at just eight years old, had knelt before Garret, tears streaming down his cheeks as he begged for me to stay.
Ten years had passed, and yet here he was again, on the ground, pleading for me not to leave, a stark reminder of how swiftly life could unravel.
Lawrence had never fathomed that a reckless game, a moment of poor judgment, could cost him everything he held dear.
In his mind, I was the one who couldn’t survive without him, the one who needed him more than anyone else in the world.
But life, with its relentless march forward, cared little for such illusions.
“Ten years ago, I felt compassion for an eight-year-old boy. But now?” Garret’s voice was ice-cold, a finality in his words that shattered any flicker of hope lingering in Lawrence’s eyes. “I won’t waver for an 18-year-old. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
Those words hung in the air, heavy with consequences, as Lawrence’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
The day I left was a blur, but somehow, Lawrence had found out.
He had raced after us in his car, a frantic attempt to stop the inevitable, but fate had other plans. Halfway there, he crashed, the sound of metal crumpling echoing in my mind like a haunting refrain.
—
Just moments before I was set to board my flight, Wendy’s voice broke through the chaos of my thoughts. “Bev, I’m begging you—will you please come back and see Lawrie?”
Her sobs pierced through the emotional armor I had built around myself, and my heart twisted painfully in response.
The plane was already taxiing down the runway, and I clutched my phone tightly, the temptation to respond clawing at me. But I couldn’t.
“I’m not a doctor. I can’t heal anyone,” I whispered to myself, the words feeling both liberating and suffocating. “Wendy, whatever we had ends here.”
With a heavy heart, I sent the message and then, in an act of finality, hurled my phone into the trash bin.
With that thud, I severed ties with my past, a definitive goodbye that echoed in the depths of my soul.
—
Arriving in New York felt like stepping into a new world, one where I could finally begin to piece my life back together. I threw myself into my classes and started seeing a therapist, hoping to untangle the mess of emotions inside me.
After I turned 18, I discovered I could finally produce a faint sound in my throat, a small victory in a long battle.
Garret was ecstatic, throwing a party in celebration of my newfound voice.
At the banquet, whispers floated around me, snippets of conversation that spoke of Lawrence.
“He’s had serious complications from the car accident and still walks with a limp,” someone said, their tone laced with pity.
“He used to be golden, now look at him…” another voice lamented. “What a shame…”
I passed by, wine glass in hand, feeling as though I were merely a ghost drifting through the remnants of Lawrence’s life, a life I had once been so entwined in.
Later, I received the news that I had been admitted to Columbia University, a milestone that filled Garret with uncontainable joy. He announced it to the world, celebrating with yet another extravagant party.
As the news traveled back to San Francisco, I received an email from Lawrence that night.
He congratulated me on my acceptance and wished me all the best for the future.
But I didn’t respond. Instead, I blocked him, determined to erase every trace of Lawrence Guthrie from my life.
His name should have faded into the background long ago; my story had already moved on.
Only the weak cling to the past, I reminded myself, as I stepped further into my new reality.
Conclusion
In the aftermath of the tumultuous events that had unfolded, I found myself standing at the precipice of a new beginning, the echoes of my past slowly fading into the distance. The decision to sever ties with Lawrence felt both liberating and heavy, a necessary sacrifice to reclaim my own identity. As I navigated the bustling streets of New York, each step resonated with the promise of a future unburdened by the weight of old wounds. The faint sound that finally emerged from my throat was a metaphorical heartbeat, a signal that I was alive and ready to embrace the life I had longed for, free from the shadows of my former self. Garret’s unwavering support became my anchor, allowing me to channel my energy into my studies and personal growth, while the memories of Lawrence transformed into mere whispers, reminders of a chapter I had closed.
Yet, even as I thrived in my newfound independence, I couldn’t entirely escape the remnants of what once was. Lawrence’s email, a bittersweet acknowledgment of my accomplishments, tugged at the edges of my resolve, reminding me that some connections, no matter how painful, leave indelible marks on our hearts. Blocking him felt like both an act of self-preservation and a concession that I was moving forward without him, a decision that underscored the strength I had cultivated through adversity. As I embraced the exhilarating uncertainty of my future, I understood that while the city had forgotten its own heartbeat, I was finally learning to find mine again, one step at a time.
What to Expect in Next Chapter?
**What to Expect in the Next Chapter?**
As the echoes of the past begin to fade, the next chapter promises a deeper exploration of Bev’s journey towards self-discovery and healing. With her new life in New York and the thrilling prospect of attending Columbia University, readers can anticipate a clash between her desire to move forward and the haunting memories of Lawrence that refuse to be silenced. Will the vibrant city serve as a true sanctuary, or will the shadows of her past continue to loom, threatening her hard-won progress? The emotional turmoil within Bev is poised to unravel as she navigates friendships, academic pressures, and the complexities of her newfound voice.
Moreover, Lawrence’s presence, though blocked from her digital life, looms large in the narrative. The chapter is likely to delve into the consequences of their severed ties and the lingering impact of their shared history. As Bev grapples with the guilt of leaving him behind, the tension will mount—will she ever be able to fully escape the bond they once shared? Or will fate intervene, pushing them back into each other’s orbit just when she believes she has finally moved on? The anticipation builds as readers wonder if the city will allow her to reclaim her heartbeat, or if the past will come rushing back to reclaim her heart.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
