RENT A HEART

EVE's POV

I held his hand as the driver took us to my family home, silently reassuring him that everything would be alright. But deep down, worry gnawed at me.

What if his father remained resolute in his decision against surgery?

What if he agreed, and the surgery wasn't successful?

I had seen how devastated he was during our visit to his mother's grave, and I saw a similar pain in him today. Each glimpse of that pain broke my heart, as I felt helpless to console him.

I didn't want him to experience that again, not now, not when he and his father had rebuilt their relationship and things were finally starting to look bright.

All these thoughts swirled in my mind. Then, I felt a gentle pressure on the back of my hand. I looked down to see Chris pressing a kiss to it.

"I can feel when you're worried," he said, smiling softly. But the smile didn't quite hide the sadness in his eyes.

"Come here," I said, opening my arms. He leaned in, and I held him close, gently stroking his back.

"Everything will be fine, I promise," I murmured.

We arrived at the estate a few minutes later. I'd called ahead to make sure my dad was home, and thankfully, he was, as was my mum.

The driver parked in front of the house, and we went inside. My father was in the living room, watching the news, while my mum browsed through a magazine.

"There you two are," she said excitedly, greeting us warmly. She hugged Chris first, then me.

I don't know what it was, but my mum genuinely adored Chris. It was so obvious, and it made me incredibly happy.

"How are you two?" she asked, ushering us into the living room.

"We're fine, Ma'am," Chris said as we sat down. Just then, I heard footsteps, and Cole appeared.

He looked genuinely happy to see us. "What brings the royal couple to see us lowly peasants?" he joked. I couldn't help but laugh, and Chris joined in.

I swear, I never knew he had such a charismatic and humorous side to him. I wonder what changed.

"That was a good one," Chris said, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

"Don't mind Cole. Can I offer you two something? I just finished preparing dinner," my mum offered, her ever-hospitable nature shining through.

"Oh, it's fine, Ma'am. I'm full," Chris demurred, a transparent lie I let pass, given the gravity of the situation.

"You sounded urgent on the phone, Eve. What's the matter?" my father asked, his gaze sharp and assessing.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Chris moved first. He stood abruptly, the suddenness of his action drawing gasps from everyone. Then, to my utter shock, he dropped to his knees.

"What are you doing, Chris?" Cole blurted out, bewildered.

"What is going on?" my father echoed, his voice laced with mounting concern.

"Please… save my father," Chris choked out, his voice cracking with raw desperation.

I instinctively squatted beside him, offering silent support, though I felt completely adrift. His spontaneous act had thrown me; we hadn't discussed anything like this.

"Stand up, Christopher," my father commanded, his voice firm but not unkind. He strode forward, his movements surprisingly swift, and reached down to help Chris to his feet.

"What's wrong with your father, Chris?" my mum asked, her voice laced with genuine concern. She moved closer, her hands fluttering with worry.

Chris took a shaky breath, then turned to me, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. He reached for my hands, his grip tight as if seeking an anchor.

"He has a terminal heart disease. They've given him maybe two months, tops. There's a surgery that might buy him some time while we look for a transplant, but he's refused. And..." He paused, his voice thick with emotion.

"Eve told me that you were the best cardiologist in the country… that you might be the only one who can make him change his mind," he pleaded, his gaze locking with my father's.

A wave of shock and sorrow washed over my father's face as he absorbed Chris's desperate plea. The room fell silent, the air thick with unspoken emotion as we waited for him to speak.

"Do you have anything? Pictures, doctor's reports… anything I can look at to understand what we're dealing with?" my father asked.

Chris scrambled for his phone, his fingers fumbling as he unlocked the screen. "Yes, the doctor sent me these files upon request." He thrust the phone into my father's hands.

I watched in strained silence as my father meticulously reviewed the documents on the phone, his brow furrowed in concentration. My mum moved to Chris's side, gently rubbing his back, offering silent reassurance. The weight of the moment pressed down on us, each breath held captive in anticipation.

"Hmmm, this is a very risky surgery, to be honest. Doesn't even have a high percentage of success. That's why so many surgeons back out of it," my father said, his tone grave.

Those words sent my heart plummeting. I'd promised Chris that my father would help, but it seemed as though the surgery might not even be an option.

"There's a machine the doctor mentioned that can assist with the surgery, but all he has to do is give his consent," Chris pressed, refusing to give up hope.

"That's for people whose hearts haven't deteriorated as much as your father's," my dad said, his voice laced with a hint of resignation.

"So, you're saying it's completely impossible and I should just accept my father's fate?" Chris challenged, his voice strained.

"I said it's extremely difficult, never did I say it wasn't doable," my father countered, handing Chris his phone back.

Chris's head shot up at my father's words, a flicker of hope igniting in his eyes for the first time that day. He looked almost… reborn.

"I can operate on your father, and give him more than two months, but he has to give his consent first. Otherwise, my hands are tied."

"That's where you come in, honey," my mum said, turning to my dad with pleading eyes. "You have to meet with Lionel, and talk him into accepting the surgery. Please?"

"His father is one stubborn, proud man. He's been like that since high school. What makes you think he'd listen to me, given everything that's happened between us?" my father reasoned, a hint of weariness in his voice.

"Because you were his best friend. And for what it's worth, he misses you. He has a picture of you two in his wallet that he stares at and talks to from time to time… this picture," Chris said, holding up his phone to show the photo he'd taken of his father's wallet.

A deep, palpable sadness washed over my father's face as he gazed at Chris's phone. I'd never seen him wear such an expression before. He looked vulnerable, almost on the verge of tears.

He sniffed, clearing his throat, before handing Chris back his phone and standing up. "Send me your father's medical report as soon as possible, preferably today. Have dinner with us, Chris, and sleep over with Eve. And tomorrow… tomorrow, you'll take me to your father." With that, he turned and left the room, leaving us in stunned silence.

A wave of relief washed over Chris as he pulled me into a tight embrace. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

I smiled, returning his hug. "I didn't do anything, babe," I murmured, before gently pulling away.

"Come on, let's go to my room," I said, leading him towards the elevator. I was too exhausted to climb the stairs.

"I'll set the table for dinner! Be down as soon as you can," my mum called out behind us.

"Sure!" I shouted back, as the elevator doors slid closed.