Chapter 1

The day I collapsed from heart failure, I lay alone in our large house during a power outage.

My husband and son were outside, setting off fireworks across the city for another woman.

After what felt like an endless night, my son finally came home. He kicked my emergency medication, which lay by my foot, with disgust.

"Mom, can you please stop faking illnesses for sympathy? Bella is so upset because of you, she can't even eat!"

My husband, Daniel, shielded our son, his voice laced with annoyance.

"Eleanor, have you made enough of a scene? Bella just got back from overseas, and she's emotionally fragile. As the lady of the house, can't you be more generous and accommodating?"

I looked up at the man whose face once swore to protect me from any grievance.

I didn't argue.

I just quietly signed the "Organ Donation Consent Form" I'd hidden at the bottom of a drawer.

Eight years ago, Daniel had written on a greeting card:

"My heart beats only for Eleanor."

Our eight-year-old son had awkwardly drawn a heart on it, adding:

"I'll protect Mommy forever too."

They seemed to have forgotten.

It's fine.

They'll remember the day my heart stops beating for good.