RENT A HEART

CHRISTOPHER's POV

Standing with my hands in my pockets before the floor-to-ceiling window in my office, I stared blankly at the tiny figures of people moving below, each hurrying in their own direction.

My mind drifted back to my conversation with our family doctor, who was treating my father.

After much agonizing, I'd decided to meet with him. Apparently, my father had made him promise to never disclose his health condition to anyone, especially me. But I have my ways, and the doctor eventually caved.

"The chairman needs surgery urgently to have any chance of living for even a year or two while we wait for a heart transplant. But he's adamant that he won't do it," the doctor had said.

"Couldn't you convince him? I don't know, maybe make him see why it's important he gets the surgery?" I pleaded.

"As a physician, it's unethical to coerce a patient or force them to take medication or treatments they don't want. And besides, you know your father , he's always stood by what he says," the doctor had replied.

"Why is he so stubborn?" I remember asking, exasperated.

"Well, maybe because he's scared. You might not know, but over the years your father has had at least three major heart surgeries. The last one was very difficult, he almost didn't make it. And it's only been two years. In some ways, I understand him," the doctor explained.

I was so shocked, I was speechless. How could I not have known any of this?

"So, there's no guarantee of success with this new surgery you're suggesting?" I asked.

"It's a new technology designed to help with these types of surgeries. It's had a 40% success rate so far, but with the condition of your father's heart, the percentage may vary... it can be unpredictable," the doctor had said.

I sighed, sinking deeper into my chair, numb and emotionally drained.

I can't lose another parent now.

"So, how long does my father have?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"One month, two months at most... he doesn't have much time," the doctor had said.

My train of thought was broken by a knock on the door, jolting me out of my reverie.

"Come in," I said, not turning to see who it was.

"This office certainly suits you," the familiar voice said, prompting me to turn immediately.

"Father," I said, surprised by his unexpected visit.

I walked toward him and hugged him. It was the first time I'd hugged my father since leaving the country years ago.

He seemed taken aback by my action, standing motionless for a moment. But after a few seconds, he wrapped his arms around my back and hugged me back.

My heart clenched, and tears threatened to spill, but I needed to maintain control, to act like the CEO of the biggest conglomerate in the country.

"Please, sit down. What can I offer you?" I asked, avoiding his gaze so he wouldn't see the sadness on my face.

"Just water would do," he said, so I went and poured him a glass.

"Is everything alright? You look... your face is a bit flushed. Are you sick? If you're sick, you need to see Doctor Ferdinand," he said, but I shook my head.

"I'm not, Father, I promise. Just a little tired, that's all," I said, adjusting my tie.

"Alright then. How are you... how are the wedding preparations coming along?" he asked, a broad smile lighting up his face.

His smile was so infectious, I couldn't help but smile too.

"Aren't you supposed to ask how I'm holding up as the head of the company?" I teased him.

"Why? You're doing fantastic. I don't need to ask the obvious, now do I? Besides, the wedding is more important to me. I can't wait to see you get married," he said.

The last part of his sentence broke my heart, knowing the underlying reason behind it.

"Well, the wedding preparations are going well. I'll be taking my measurements at Ethereal-Eve this afternoon to get my tuxedo ready," I said.

"Ah, that's good. So, have you decided on a date?" he asked, looking at me expectantly.

My initial plan was to have the wedding in two months, but with Father's condition, I'll have to bring it forward.

"Not really, but it will be next month, first week preferably," I said. I didn't miss the radiant smile that spread across his face at my words.

"That's good, that's absolutely really good," he said, nodding happily.

I really didn't want to tell him that I knew about his illness. I didn't know how he would react, but I desperately wanted him to trust me enough to tell me himself.

I spent the next few hours talking with my dad and discussing the company. I wouldn't have minded spending the whole day with him, but he would notice something was off; it was unlike me.

I escorted him to his car a few minutes later, embracing him once more before the driver pulled away.

I turned and got into my own car, heading straight for Ethereal-Eve. I needed to see Eve; I couldn't hold the pain of potentially losing my father in any longer.

I used the private elevator that led directly to the top floor. Stepping out, I went straight to her office and knocked on the door.

She was in a small meeting with her staff when I walked in. She smiled brightly when she saw me, and that smile alone gave me temporary relief from the pain inside. But then she frowned slightly and dismissed her staff.

"That will be all for today," she said, and her staff left promptly.

"Baby, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice laced with concern as she closed the distance between us, cupping my face in her hands and staring deeply into my eyes.

Her soothing words and the concern on her face were comforting, causing my emotions to spill over as tears streamed down my face.

"It's my father," I said, hugging her tightly and desperately. "Hey, I'm here, okay? What about your father?" she asked, rubbing small circles on my back.

"He's dying," I murmured into her neck.

"What?!" she asked, gently pulling back to look at me.

"What did you just say?" she asked, visibly shocked.

"He... uhmm..." I stammered, a lump forming in my throat. "He has a heart condition and only has a month to live."

"Oh my god," she said, hugging me tightly.

"I don't know what to do, Eve. I don't want to lose another parent," I sobbed.

I felt her hand gently patting my back, offering silent comfort, allowing me to release all the pent-up pain.

After a few minutes, I stopped weeping. She took my hand and led me to the sofa, sitting me down beside her and offering me a glass of water.

I felt relieved after the crying session, although I also felt embarrassed.

"I'm embarrassed that I'm always crying in front of you," I said, setting down the glass.

She just chuckled and pinched my cheek. "You're so cute. And there's nothing to be embarrassed about. It shows you're human, and humans tend to be vulnerable. And you care a lot. I love that about you, Chris," she said, smiling at me.

"So, tell me, how did you find out?" she asked.

I sighed before narrating everything, starting from the day I went back home for the first time and overheard my father's conversation with my uncle, and how my father refused the latest surgery.

"Let's meet my father. He's the best cardiologist in the country, and regardless of the ill feelings between them, your father was his best friend. Maybe my father can convince him to do the surgery," she said, instantly giving me hope.

"The wedding can wait. Let's save your father," she continued.

I smiled and hugged her. "Thank you."

"Let's go," I said, and with that, we left her office, heading for the Mikleson estate.