Mia arrived home late at night, her new motorcycle gleaming in the moonlight. To her surprise, Emily was waiting for her, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"And then?" Emily prodded, eager for details.
"Where did he take you?"
Mia rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you have a crush on a guy like that."
"Why was he touching you?" Emily asked, concern lacing her voice.
"I don't know," Mia shrugged, a hint of unease creeping into her tone.
"Okay, uhmm, do you like him?" Emily inquired tentatively.
"Hell no!" Mia exclaimed. "He bought me paint for my bike because we pay pink tax in this country, but that's it."
"So, can I have him then?" Emily asked hopefully.
Mia sighed. "He's engaged, Ems."
"So?" Emily retorted.
"You don't go for engaged people. They're not single," Mia explained.
"Girl, that dude is not into her. At this point, I'd settle for being his secret. I just wanted to get clarity about your relationship with him," Emily admitted.
"I don't have any relationship with him," Mia clarified. "We met three times, and today he was a little bit nicer. That's all."
"Okay, so when are you getting a boyfriend?" Emily asked, ever the matchmaker.
"When it's time to get a boyfriend," Mia replied, a hint of exasperation in her voice.
"Can you borrow me your phone?" Emily asked, a plan forming in her mind.
Mia handed over her phone without hesitation.
"Password?" Emily inquired.
"No password," Mia replied.
Mia started heating up some leftovers while Emily tinkered with her phone. When she was finished, she handed the phone back to Mia.
"I set up a dating profile for you," Emily announced triumphantly.
"You did what, Emily?" Mia exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief.
"Girl, you need it," Emily insisted.
"I don't," Mia protested.
"Look at this guy," Emily said, showing her a profile on the screen. "Are you sure he's not your type?"
"I don't want him," Mia said firmly.
"Mia, you can't be alone forever," Emily reasoned.
"I'm only 26 years old. I'm not that old," Mia retorted.
"Yes, but at your age, girls already have crushes," Emily pointed out.
"Crushes? I do have crushes," Mia admitted.
"Who's your crush?" Emily pressed, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Mia paused, a flicker of recognition in her eyes. " uhmm what are crushes?" She said.
Emily left, her initial hope fading into disappointment. She knew Mia was a late bloomer, content in her own world, focused on her baking dreams rather than romantic pursuits. Crushes were a rare occurrence for Mia, who preferred reality over fantasies about boys who barely acknowledged her existence. It wasn't rocket science, but it was classic Mia.
Left alone, Mia remained unfazed. She found comfort in her brother's belongings, his collection of toy cars, his diaries filled with childish scribbles, and his clothes that still held the faint scent of his cologne. It was as if he was still there with her, a bittersweet illusion that eased her loneliness.
Meanwhile, Ethan drove home under the cover of night. As he rounded a bend, his headlights illuminated a figure standing motionless in the middle of the road—a woman, seemingly waiting for him. He slammed on the brakes, but it was too late. A truck, appearing out of nowhere, collided with his car, sending him into unconsciousness.
Ethan awoke in a hospital bed, the accident plastered all over the news. He couldn't comprehend the footage, which showed him veering into the truck.
"Mr Smith," Ethan tried to explain to the police officer, "I swerved to avoid a woman in the road. I'm not crazy."
"It's okay, Mr Blackwood," the secretary interjected, her voice soothing. "Sophia's birthday is tomorrow. You can't afford to miss it."
"You weren't injured," Dr Martin announced, a puzzled expression on his face.
"Huh?" Ethan replied, bewildered.
"Yeah. I can't explain it. Your car is totaled, but you escaped unscathed. You'll be able to attend the party," Dr Martin assured him.
"Doctor, can I ask you a question?" Ethan inquired.
"Yes, go ahead," Dr Martin encouraged.
"My stomach was tickling, and my heart was racing. When I touched her, the pain turned into pleasure. How do you explain that?" Ethan asked, his voice filled with confusion.
"I can't explain love, Mr. Blackwood. It's beyond my expertise," Dr Martin replied.
"It's not love," Ethan protested. "This girl, I barely know her. The first time I met her, I felt nothing. But after the surgery, I can't help it. I can't control myself."
"Mr Blackwood, it's all in your head," Dr Martin concluded. "I'll prescribe you some pills for anxiety."
"Dr Martin , I'm not crazy, okay?" Ethan's voice was strained, his eyes pleading for understanding. "Is it possible... for a heart to have a mind of its own?"
Dr Martin leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. He knew Ethan was grasping for answers, searching for a logical explanation for the inexplicable feelings he was experiencing.
"Mr Blackwood," Dr Martin began, his voice calm and measured, "the idea of cellular memory in organ transplantation is a controversial topic. It's a theory suggesting that memories and emotions can be transferred from donor to recipient through the transplanted organ."
Ethan listened intently, his mind racing. "So, you're saying it's possible that I'm feeling what the donor of my heart felt?"
Dr Martin nodded cautiously. "There have been anecdotal reports of personality changes and new interests in transplant recipients, sometimes mirroring those of the donor. Some scientists believe this is due to cellular memory, while others attribute it to psychological factors or even the side effects of immunosuppressant drugs."
He paused, then added, "However, it's important to note that there is no scientific consensus on this issue. Most studies have failed to find concrete evidence supporting cellular memory."
Ethan absorbed this information, a glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes. "But it's not impossible, right?"
"No," Dr Martin admitted. "It's not impossible. But it's also not something we can definitively prove or disprove at this point."
He placed a reassuring hand on Ethan's shoulder. "Mr Blackwood, I understand this is a lot to process. I want you to know that I'm here for you, regardless of what you believe is happening. If you're experiencing any unusual symptoms or feelings, please don't hesitate to reach out."
Ethan nodded, a sense of gratitude washing over him. He might not have all the answers yet, but at least he wasn't alone in this. With Dr Martin 's support, he felt a renewed determination to uncover the truth behind the strange connection he felt with Mia and the mysterious woman who had appeared in the road.
He knew the only way to understand whether it is his own will or manipulated is to meet the family of his donor..