The bond between us was severed.

***

The wait at the emergency room was an eternity of torment.

Two hours later, the doctor emerged. His expression was grave.

"Your mother has had a heart condition for a long time. The extreme anger triggered a massive attack. She... she might not make it."

The words struck like lightning. A heart condition? I had no idea.

I rushed into the ward. She was awake, but her complexion was gray, her breathing shallow.

She looked at me and offered a weak, bleak smile. "Chris..."

"I didn't tell you... I was afraid you'd worry." Her voice was barely audible. "I knew you'd borrow money, beg people... do anything to save me. I didn't want you and Olivia to fight over the cost. So... cough, cough..."

I broke down.

I fell to my knees beside the bed. I grasped her rough, weather-beaten hand and pressed it to my tear-streaked face.

"Mom, Dad left when I was a baby. You raised me alone. How could you ever be a burden?" A sob tore through me. "I have to save you. I will save you."

She shook her head slowly, tears leaking from her eyes. "My lamp is out of oil, son. Don't do anything foolish for me."

She squeezed my hand weakly. "Back then... it was because I pushed you that you married Olivia. I made you give up your career to stay home and care for her. It's my fault. I ruined your life."

"I only ask one thing..." She gasped for air. "For the rest of your life... live for yourself."

Her hand went slack.

Her eyes slid shut.

"Mom? Mom!"

I screamed her name, shaking her shoulders. No response.

Doctors and nurses rushed in, dragging me away from the bed as the monitors flatlined.

*Live well.* That was her last wish.

But as I watched them work on her, a desperate thought flashed through my mind.

A heart transplant.

It was the only way. But a new heart required money—an astronomical amount of money I didn't have.

My only option was to sell the house. It was my premarital property—legally, Olivia Swanson didn't need to know.

I explained the situation to the doctor in a rush of breathless words, but the hospital's policy was carved in stone: full deposit before they could proceed with the heart transplant.

No hesitation. I sprinted home, ready to put the property on the market that very hour.

*Mom is only fifty.* My chest constricted. *She has decades left. I can't let her die.*