Leo’s eyes soften as he moves closer to the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asks, trying to change the conversation, as if talking about my failing heart is better than my failing almost-relationship.
I want to lie and tell them I’m fine, but the truth is that I feel like I’m hanging on by a single thread.
“Weak. Tired,” I finally admit.
Cam’s fists clench at his sides. Frankie is silent, but themuscle in his jaw ticks over and over again. Leo stays close, his expression tight with concern.
Moments later, there is a single knock as the door opens once more. Dr. Rivera walks in holding a clip board in one hand, a small, blonde nurse trailing in behind him. He gives me a tiny and kind smile, but it fades quickly into something more serious. I brace myself for what he is going to say next.
“Emiliana,” he starts gently. “I want to be honest with you about what we’re facing.”
The world seems to tilt slightly at the words.
He steps closer, flipping through the chart in his hand. “Your heart function has declined significantly since the last time I saw you. Your ejection fraction is dangerously low. You’re not getting enough oxygenated blood to your organs, which is why you collapsed. You experienced so many arrhythmias back to back that not even your ICD could work at the rate it needed to.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying again.
“The medication can only do so much at this point,” he continues. “We’re going to keep you stable, but long term—” he stops and takes a breath. “Emiliana, you need a transplant.”
His words hit me like if he had just slapped me instead.
“You’re saying… I need a new heart.”
“Yes.” He doesn’t sugarcoat it. “Soon.”
My hands are trembling now. Leo steps closer like he wants to wrap me in a cocoon and hide me from the truth. Cam stares at the doctor, waiting for any additional information he has to give. Frankie just turns away and walks towards the singular window in the room.
“And if I don’t get one?” I ask.
Dr. Rivera’s face is lined with concern. “Then we do everything we can to keep you going until one becomes available. But the reality is… without it, your heart will continue to deteriorate. Eventually, it will stop.”
The words echo through me, bouncing around the hollow places. The room is silent, as if no one knows how to respond to such a terrible prognosis, one that we all eventually knew was coming but now that it’s here, it feels heavier than expected.
“And how long… how long do I have?” I ask, hating myself for needing to know.
He hesitates, long enough to say everything he doesn’t say out loud. “We don’t know. We’ll place you on the transplant list immediately, as a high priority. But finding a donor is a process. It could be weeks. Months. Or longer.”
I nod, the movement feeling robotic. I hear everything he’s saying, but it feels like I’m floating outside my own body.
He reaches out and touches my shoulder gently. “You don’t have to be strong right now. Just let us take care of you.”
I nod again. He steps back, murmurs something to the nurse outside the door, and disappears down the hallway.
Leo sits beside me, gripping my hand in his. Cam stands behind him watching me like I might slip away at any moment. Frankie doesn’t say anything, simply pulls a chair closer and leans forward, like he’s standing guard.
I feel cold. Empty. Numb.
All I can think is thatI need my mom. I need her here. I need her voice. Her calm. Her strength. She would hold me through this as I fell apart in her arms. She would know what to say. She’d lie if she had to, telling me I was going to be fine even if she didn’t believe it. She’d make me believe it anyway.
But she’s not here. She’s never going to be here, and I don’t know how to do this without her.
Leo squeezes my hand harder. “Do you want us to stay?”
I shake my head.
He nods slowly, accepting that I need some time to myself and just squeezes my hand one last time before kissing my forehead goodbye. None of my other brothers argue either. Frankie hesitates, his eyes stormy and conflicted, but eventually follows.Cam lingers a moment longer, then simply gives my shoulder a squeeze and leaves quietly.
Finally, I am alone long enough to fall apart again.
