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“Not a thing, my sweet boy.”
“Then why have you been crying? And why does it look like you haven’t slept in days?”
“I’m okay. I promise.” She ran her hand through his hair and inhaled deeply. “You collapsed after one of your men’s league games.”
“I did?”
Sydney nodded, and tears fell from her eyes. “Yes, and you were brought here by ambulance.”
“Oh.”
“That’s not all,” she told her son. “Your heart condition—” She paused and made eye contact with him. Grayson saw the look in his mother’s eyes and knew a lecture was forthcoming. He hadn’t taken his meds in a while, and when he had taken them, it had been sporadic at best. For whatever reason, he lived by his machismo attitude: nothing could bring him down. He was climbing the corporate ladder at the Wold Collective, he had an amazing group of friends, and for some reason the woman he was in love with gave him the time of day, even though he didn’t deserve it. Grayson didn’t need pills to make himself feel better because he felt great. Besides, he was healthy and happy. Those bottles, hidden in his bathroom, reminded him he was weak, and he didn’t like how they made him feel.
And then he remembered when he didn’t feel so well or when his chest hurt, and he’d ignored it. He looked away from his mom before she could see any type of realization in his gaze.
“Everything’s good now?” he asked in a shallow voice.
Sydney hesitated and then offered a weak smile. “You have a long recovery ahead of you, Grayson.”
“For a heart attack?” he asked. “That seems extreme.”
“Honey.” Sydney sat on the side of his bed and held his hand in hers. “Your heart ...” She paused as her breathing hitched. She cleared her throat. “Your heart was too damaged to repair. You were put in a medically induced coma due to several things, but mainly to keep you stationary and allow your body to get stronger.”
“My heart’s damaged?”
Sydney shook her head. “Not anymore. Now it’s healthy.”
“How?”
She inhaled deeply and smiled. “Because you received a transplant.”
Grayson let the words sink in. They sank. And continued to do so until they were fuzzy and not making any sense. He looked around the room. Sterile. Plain. He was by himself, aside from his mother and a barrage of machines. Grayson followed the lines to under the blanket that covered him, and then he saw the tubes with pink-tinged liquid traveling through the casing.
“Mom,” he said in a panic. “What is that?”
Sydney leaned over him and saw where he pointed. “Drainage tube.”
“I have a tube in me?”
She placed her hand on him. “It’s best you remain calm. Do you want me to get the doctor?”
Grayson shook his head quickly. “No, but what the fuck is going on?” As soon as his breathing deepened, the monitors began beeping. He looked at them in panic and felt his blood pressure rise.
The door to his room slid open. “Hey, Grayson,” the nurse said as she came in. She pressed some buttons, and the beeping stopped. “I’m Jillian. How are you feeling?”
“Scared.”
“That’s normal. I’m going to take a look at your incision.”
“My what?”
Jillian lifted his blanket and pulled back the bandage that covered his chest. He watched every movement and questioned how he hadn’t known he had a massive piece of gauze covering his torso.
“It might be best if you don’t look,” Sydney told him as she pulled his face toward hers.
“But—”
“Later. You can look later, once you’ve processed everything.”
