My team of doctors put me on more medications than fathomable for such a small child—ACE inhibitors, beta blockers, Entresto, Lasix, Captopril, Lanoxin, and about three others. At thirteen, I had an ICD placed—an implanted cardioverter-defibrillator—that helps deliver electric shocks to my heart if it detects threatening arrhythmias. It has been my lifeline for the past fifteen years.
Now, not even the ICD can save me.
“You’re in heart failure, Emiliana.”
I didn’t hear the rest, just nodded when I was supposed to, agreeing to whatever next steps he was explaining. I did manage to make it out of the hospital without completely losing it, but by the time I pushed through the doors of Dallas’ office, the dam had broken.
Tears were streaming down my face as I stumbled inside, my breath came in short, panicked gasps. Her assistant, Annie, barely got out a startled “Emma?” before I shoved past her and bursted through the double glass doors unannounced.
Dallas was on the phone at that moment, mid-sentence of some important details regarding her current book tour. The second she saw me, her expression shifted. “I have to call youback,” she said urgently, not even waiting for a response before hanging up on whoever was on the other end.
“Em, what’s wrong? What happened?”
I tried to speak but the words were lodged in my throat like barbed wire. My whole body was trembling and all I could do was shake my head. Dallas immediately barrelled towards me, rounding the desk and wrapping her arms around me before I could collapse.
“Hey, hey, qué pasó? Talk to me.”
I clutched onto her, my fingers digging into the soft fabric of her blouse, because I knew she was the only thing keeping me upright. “I’m in heart failure, D,” I choked out, the words strangled and raw. “Fucking heart failure.”
She went completely still.
For a moment, the world was silent. All I could hear was my own ragged breathing and the pounding of my pulse in my ears. Then slowly, her arms tightened harder around me as one hand ran soothingly up and down my back. “Okay,” she started, as if the gears in her head were already spinning, trying to come up with a solution to the problem at hand. “Alright. We’re going to figure this out. There has to be something they can do. We can get a second opinion. We can find a better doctor. Maybe it’s a mistake and they were reading someone else’s results. Maybe we can?—”
I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my face into her shoulder, trying to ground myself in her unwavering presence. But nothing felt real. Nothing made sense. There is no feeling comparable to being told that your own body is giving up on itself.
She let out a heavy sigh and squeezed even tighter. “You’re gonna be okay. Te lo prometo.”
I knew that was a bold thing for her to promise. If I knew anything about life, it is that nothing is ever promised. Nothing ever goes the way you hope. My whole life was a constantexample of that. But I let her words comfort me in that moment, refusing to believe anything different for the sake of not completely breaking down.
It was exactly three months later that I made the decision to move back to Windhaven.
When I called my brothers and told them the inevitable change to my condition, there was no surprise. We all knew this day would come eventually, but didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Cam, the most logical and analytical of us all, also insisted on finding the best cardiologist in the country for a second opinion and more advanced management options.
Unfortunately for me, thehospital that might save my lifehappens to be just a couple minutes outside of Windhaven, leaving no argument for not moving back. I cancelled all my solo art shows for the foreseeable future, requested an early termination on the lease of my studio and started packing up my apartment a couple days later.
I knew telling Dallas that I’d decided to leave the city was going to crush her so I put it off as long as possible without her noticing something was off. We were sitting on the oversized sectional in her apartment on a rainy morning when I finally mustered up the courage. I was next to the windows overlooking the city, legs crossed under me with a fresh cup of coffee warming my hands, watching the endless mass of people hurry to get to where they’re going—probably to a job where they are replaceable and unappreciated or to a home with a partner that treats them like shit.
Dallas was in the thick of another writing deadline so there were notebooks and post-it notes scattered all around the living room while she typed away on her laptop. It was normal for us to sit in silence like this: Dallas, lost in her fictional words, and me, lost in my thoughts.
The second the words “I need to tell you something” came out of my mouth, Dallas shut her laptop and looked up at me.The look in her eyes told me that she knew whatever I was about to say was going to knock the wind out of her.
I traced the handle of the cup with my thumb over and over again, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat. The speech I had prepared and rehearsed multiple times went out the window and the only words that came out of my mouth were, “I’m moving back to Windhaven.” Straight to the point.
Dallas immediately bursted out laughing, not believing the words I had said. “Like hell you are.”
“I’m serious, Dal.”
She stops mid-laugh and stares at me, blinking once. Twice. “What? No way. Estás loca.”
I sucked in a breath. “I—I’ve been thinking about it for a while. My health isn’t getting better and I don’t want to do this alone. Cam, Leo, and Frankie are there. I need to be closer to them.”
She shook her head quickly, like she was trying to make sense of what I was saying. “What the hell do you mean‘alone’?I’mhere. I’ve always been here. We’ve built our lives here, Em. You can’t just leave.”
“I have to.” My voice was softer, but also more firm. “I need to be with my family, D. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. And I just… I don’t want to be a burden to you.”
Her head jerked back like I had slapped her. “A burden?” She rose an octave, sharp with disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me, Emiliana? You’re my best friend. I would drop literally everything if you needed me to. You know that.”
“Idoknow that,” I said, my chest tightening with guilt. Even though it felt like I was making a mistake, I kept going. “And that’s exactly why I have to go. You’re at the peak of your career. You have deadlines, meetings, events, tours.Yourwhole life is here. And I can’t be the reason you put it all on hold.”
