A Heart To Keep (A Michael Jackson Fanfiction)

CHAPTER 29- Truth

I silently wished before speaking. I grab the phone and held it against my ear.

"Hello," I spoke and held my breath.

"Amelia, I'm glad I caught you here," Dr. Garner spoke. I sigh of relief escaped from my lips. I needed a break from him, honestly.

"Dr. Garner. How can I help you?" I said to her.

"I'm sorry the test results took quite a while to be mailed to you and I know you're busy. The results should've been mailed three days ago but something happened in the office and some results got lost, including yours so we had to reprint," she explained.

"It's okay, doc. No worries. Is it going to be mailed today?" I asked.

"Yes, but I also called in to explain this to you in the simplest way. The results are just for keepsakes. What I need you to do is to listen to me," I slightly felt nervous.

"Okay doc, what is it? It can't be that serious, right?" I tried to laugh it off but she didn't laugh with me, meaning it is serious.

"I wish I could say the same thing, Amelia," she paused.

"Amelia, it was a lot worse than I expected. Your heart is having trouble relaxing in between beats. Myocardial fibrosis and atrial fibrillation can also occur that can lead to heart failure. I have already given you the right medications to prevent such things from happening. But if one more attack will happen, it can be fatal." My mind went blank as my head suddenly had flashbacks of every single time I had an attack, and the latest one with Michael as the reason.

Which gives me a whole other reason to stay away.

"Thank you for telling me doc," I said with whatever strength I have left and hung up.

"Honey, are you okay?" Auntie Mary appeared on my side and tapped my shoulders. I just nodded and gave her a tight-lipped smile.

"Your mother is awake, you can see her now, she's in front of the window," she said and walked off.

I mustered up some courage to move and made my way to see my mom. I didn't have the opportunity to greet her when I arrived last night since she's already resting. She looks frail from afar, and I'm afraid that I'll break down once I see her up close.

"What are you thinking?" I approached her and sat at the window seat, getting a full view of her weak state. My heart breaks as I see her pale face and sunken eyes. She's gotten thinner since the last time I visited her.

"Hi, baby. What time did you get here last night?" she turned her head to me.

"Around eleven. You're already resting so I didn't bother waking you up," I said to her and she slightly nodded.

"How's work?" she asked me. I took a second to answer her question properly since a lot has happened and it's not pleasant, for the most part.

"It's been hectic, and physically demanding. If I could part my body into pieces to be able to do work simultaneously, I would've done it in a heartbeat," Heartbeat. The thing that will dictate if I'll have the chance to live.

"You need to rest, darling. It's not healthy for you to get stressed all the time," she speaks less but she always knows what to tell me. She's the first person to know my disease, and she constantly reminds me to take things at the right pace so I won't be stressed always.

"I know, mom," I replied.

We sat in silence and enjoyed each other's company for a few minutes because she has difficulties taking in air while talking. I try to break the ice and asked a simple question that bothered me long enough and I have to hear it from her.