The Heart That Beats For Her

Chapter Two

Everything has felt rushed. From the moment they received the call for their daughter, someone pressed fast forward on their lives. And once they stepped foot into the hospital, everything slowed down immensely, to the point that everything that moved around them felt like slow motion.

Eight hours. The longest eight hours of their life as they waited for their daughter, begging and pleading to the universe for her to wake up. Eventually, her sleepy eyes peeled apart, and yes, she was frantic at first, disorientated, from what the nurse had described. She was also stubborn and trying to remove the tube down her throat, but eventually the nurse was able to calm her.

That was three days ago, and finally, finally, David and Mary Margret are allowed to see their daughter. The doctor was very adamant with taking things slow with Emma's recovery due to her long history of complications. And neither David nor Mary Margret argued with him, because they are willing to do whatever need be to guarantee their daughter's safety and full recovery.

"Oh, honey, you look good," Mary Margret coos, stepping beside her bed with big watery eyes as she swoops a chunk of hair away from Emma's forehead. As if Emma has anyone to impress at the moment.

"Liar," she barely mumbles because her throat is still a little tender from the tube and her chest feels extra tight and truthfully, she's petrified to move or breathe wrong and cause more damage.

And it's not like this is her first surgery. She's a pro now actually. However, this is the one that counts, this is the one that is supposed to end all her misery and suffering and she refuses to screw anything up.

"No, really," her dad chimes in, grinning wildly behind his wife. "We were able to see you through the window the past two days, you were so pale, but now you got some color coming back into your cheeks," he vows, somehow beaming even wider.

"Good," she murmurs under her breath.

"Honey, you know it's good to start talking and moving around. I know it probably hurts or is uncomfortable, but the doctor wants you to try and work on it," her mother reminds her and because of course, that woman can always read her like an open book and knows exactly what she is thinking.

It drives Emma mad sometimes and other times it's her favorite thing in the world. Right now, it ticks her off because she is due for another dose of medicine soon and she's becoming agitated, uncomfortable and above all, cranky.

"I know, mom. The doctor has been going over his expectations of me quite often."

"How are your coughing exercises coming with the nurse? I know it's supposed to hurt, but-"

"Mary Margret," David softly whispers, placing his hand upon her shoulder to interrupt her rambling mouth. She means well, he knows she does and she's just worried about their baby, but he also knows Emma needs a distraction. "Ruby called, she wants to come down and visit with Neal. I told them that I think it's best if you don't have any visitors until you go home."

"Yeah, I don't want to risk anything," Emma's scratchy voice barely whispers before she winces.

Mary Margret immediately glances at the clock on the wall. "Your next dosage should be soon," she informs her, taking Emma's hand into her own and squeezing some reassurance.

"Good."

And that's all she says and she can see her mom and dad exchanging a worried look, and she knows deep in her soul that her monotone responses don't match her usual sunshine disposition, but she feels so utterly beatdown. Sure, it's most likely the exhaustion from such a long, grueling and major surgery and maybe her body is just struggling because it's not the first time her chest has been cracked open. However, in the back of her mind, she's stressing over the thought of her body rejecting this perfect heart because she knows, she won't be able to survive.