Farewell, My Heart

I dragged my heavy legs toward the elevator, holding the wall for support.

Just then, the doors opened. My mother walked out of the elevator with a cashmere scarf in hand. She paused when she saw me and put the scarf on my shoulders.

“It’s windy out. Quick, wear this.”

I glanced down at the scarf. It smelled of Marcus’ custom mint perfume.

Half an hour ago, when his heart hurt, he leaned in my mother’s embrace and wept with this scarf around his neck. It was only when the nurse changed him into his scrubs and wheeled him into the operating theater that the scarf wound up with my mother.

I felt my stomach turn. Yanking off the scarf, I threw it neatly into a medical waste trashcan nearby.

My mother froze, her expression slightly twisted.

Before she could say anything, my sister Chanel walked around the corner with my father, who had just ended a call. Her expression turned dark when she saw me.

“What’s wrong with you, Connor?” She strode over to me, looking at me haughtily. “Don’t glare at Mom. She came to see you as soon as Marcus’ surgery ended.”

My father frowned as well, scolding, “Why are you always so jealous? Marcus was in dire straits. His father died to save your sister, and his leg was permanently injured in that accident as well. We can’t let him lose his life, too!

“Your case is different. Your heart is weakening, but I’ve already called in the best medical team from abroad. The family will spare no expense to treat you, so just wait for the next heart.

“Must you steal that poor boy’s chance at living?”

They said it matter-of-factly, defending Marcus with every word, as though I was the bad guy here. I stopped in my tracks and turned to look at them.

Last time, I would fight and argue with them, begging them to remember that I was their son. Not Marcus.

This time, though, I looked at those three familiar faces like they were piles of rotten meat.

“Dad, Chanel,” I interrupted them calmly. “Did you forget? The doctor said yesterday that without that heart, I won’t last three days.”

They visibly paused, but soon my sister smirked.

“Are you threatening us with your life now, Connor? You kept saying your heart hurt for the past three years, but you’re still alive now.”

My mother sighed too. “Be a good boy and go back to take your medicine, Connor. Don’t embarrass yourself in the hospital.”

They did not even spare me another glance before heading back to the seventh floor to take care of Marcus.

I watched them leave, tugging at the corners of my lips. “System, start the countdown.”

The soaring atrium was right next to me. I ignored the warning line and climbed over the waist-high glass railing.