Page 2 of Heart Sick

I now work for that men’s magazine, recruiting models. My modeling days are over. But I offer my experience to newbies who were just like me. Most times, there are no magical potions. Just pure luck.

But I refuse to believe that in this circumstance because there is no luck, no silver lining in Misha being unresponsive and relying on machines to breathe.

“Ms. Huxley, your son is an organ donor and we were wondering—”

“Don’t you touch him!” I cry, covering Misha with my body as I glare at the doctor. “You will not touch a hair on his head!”

A guttural sob breaks free, grating my throat raw. But my heart, my heart suffers in the worst possible way. It isn’t just broken; it is destroyed. I doubt it’ll ever beat the same way ever again.

“Luna, if he can help another person live—” Joy softly says.

“I said no!” I bellow, clutching Misha tightly. “He is my son, and I promised, I promised to keep him s-safe. You can’t…you just can’t. I won’t allow you to desecrate his body. You vultures! Keep away!”

I bury my face in Misha’s chest, my cries echoing into his lethargic heart.

“I won’t let them hurt you, baby boy. I promised to protect you and I will do so with my very last breath.”

I run my fingers over Misha’s face. His arms. I close my eyes and become in sync with the gentle lull of his breathing. I refuse to believe this is the end.

“Take these tubes out. He can’t breathe.” A panic overcomes me as I frantically scramble to take the tubes out of his mouth and nose.

“Ms. Huxley! Stop.”

But I will not.

The doctors and nurses don’t know my son better than me. He was born a fighter. He doesn’t die this way.

Strong arms pull me away, but I am stronger and fight with all my might. I may be slender, but that’s never stopped me in the past. I kick, scream and bite, but in the end, I am yanked away from Misha as doctors and nurses attempt to restrain me in a brown leather chair.

Spittle dribbles from my chin as I am a rabid momma protecting her cub.

Dr. Sterling crouches low as I thrash wildly. “I know this is very painful for you. I can’t even begin to imagine your pain. But we have a match for Misha’s…heart. Don’t let his death be in vain. Your son can live on by saving the life of another. Please, Ms. Huxley, honor your son as I know he would want.”

Hisheart?

Vomit rises and I turn my face, expelling nothing but bile onto the polished linoleum.

“You want to take his…heart?” I ask, horrified, my voice quaking when I can construct a coherent sentence. “You monster!”

The doctor doesn’t take offense. “Only with your approval.”

I know protocol is that the hospital can proceed even over family objection, and I am objecting very damn hard. But Dr. Sterling is trying to reason with me. She wants me to see this is the right thing to do.

But there is no right.

Why does this person deserve to live while Misha dies?

He walks around with the heart that is as much a part of me as it is my son’s. No, that isn’t fair. That is a cruel reminder that I will never get back the only person who I ever loved in this world.

“Think if it was me, Mom. If I had the chance to live…”Misha’s words ring loudly and I cover my ears, blocking out what I know is the truth.

“If I do that, that means you d-die,” I whimper, squeezing my eyes shut.

“Who are you talking to?” Joy asks, her concern clear.

“I’m already gone. But I can live on. Every beat of my heart helps another live.”

Misha has always been selfless, and it seems even in death, it’s no different.

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