Chapter 8

• I clutched my phone, refreshing the screen every few seconds, waiting for a reply from Lucian. The messages stared back at me, unanswered, the silence louder than the chaos in my mind.
• “Ms. Eloise Sinclair?”
• The nurse’s voice jolted me upright. Her face was pale, the tight line of her lips giving me no comfort.
• “Yes?” I managed, my throat dry.
• “I’m afraid we need to act quickly. Max’s condition is deteriorating. His body is rejecting the temporary measures. The kidney implant is needed as soon as possible. Without it—” She paused, her expression heavy.
• My heart stopped. “Without it…what?”
• The nurse glanced at the clipboard in her hands, hesitating.
• I’m sorry,” the nurse said, her tone a mix of professionalism and pity. “But we don’t have time to wait. We need a donor now.”
• I froze, my mind racing.
• “His father… I’ve been trying to reach him. He’s a match.”
• The nurse hesitated, her expression grim.
• “We can’t wait for him, ma’am. Do you know of anyone else who matches Max’s blood type?”
• The world tilted, and my voice came out shaky.
• “I don’t—I don’t know.”
• “Eloise?”
• I turned to see Mike standing at the end of the hall, concern etched into his face. He’d been here since I called him earlier, pacing quietly in the background trying to give me space.
• “What’s happening?” he asked, walking toward me.
• “Max needs the kidney now,” I said, my voice trembling. “They’re saying there’s no time, and Lucian…” I faltered, my anger rising. “Lucian isn’t answering. He’s not coming.”
• Mike’s jaw tightened.
• “What’s Max’s blood type?”
• “O-negative,” the nurse replied, glancing between us.
• Mike didn’t hesitate.
• “I’m O-negative. Test me.”
• “What?” I gasped, turning to him.
• “I’ll do it,” Mike said simply. “If I’m a match, I’ll donate.”
• “No!” I shot back, my voice louder than I intended.
• “Eloise,” Mike said softly, his eyes steady on mine. “Max needs this. It doesn’t matter how we get it, as long as he’s okay.”
• “I can’t let you do that,” I said, shaking my head. “This isn’t your responsibility.”
• His brow furrowed. “He’s your responsibility and that makes him mine too. I care about him, Eloise. And I care about you.”
• The words hung in the air, raw and unspoken until now. My throat tightened as I tried to respond, but nothing came out.
• Mike turned to the nurse. “What do I need to do?”
• The nurse nodded. “We’ll run a quick compatibility test and prepare for the procedure. Follow me, sir.”
• Mike gave me one last look before walking away. I sat down heavily, burying my face in my hands.
• °○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°
• Time felt meaningless as I sat there, staring blankly at the tiled floor. The steady hum of hospital machines and the muffled voices of passing staff filled the air, but none of it registered.
• My phone buzzed on the chair beside me, and I snatched it up. Lucian’s name lit up the screen.
• Finally.
• “Lucian!” I hissed into the phone, barely able to contain my anger.
• “What’s going on?” His voice was casual, unconcerned, as though I hadn’t been desperately trying to reach him for hours.
• “Max’s condition is critical,” I snapped. “He needs the kidney now, and you were mo where to be found!”
• He sighed audibly.
• “I told you before Eloise, I have my own life. I can’t drop everything every time something happens with Max.”
• I couldn’t breathe for a moment, the sheer selfishness of his words choking me.
• “He’s your son!” I spat, my voice breaking. “Your flesh and blood! How could you—”
• “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you,” Lucian interrupted, his tone cold.
• “Figure it out.”
• The line went dead.
• My hands trembled as I lowered the phone, tears blurring my vision. Lucian’s indifference wasn’t new, but it still cut deeper than I expected.
• “Eloise?”
• Mike’s voice broke through my spiral. I looked up to see him standing there, his arm wrapped in a bandage, his face pale but calm.
• “I’m a match,” he said quietly. “They’ve already started the process.”
• Relief and guilt crashed over me in equal measure. “Mike, I—”
• “Don’t,” he interrupted gently. “You don’t have to say anything. Just focus on Max.”
• My lip trembled as I nodded, unable to speak. He gave me a small reassuring smile before walking away, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
• °○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°○°
• The hours crawled by. I stared out the window of the waiting room, the city lights blurred by tears I refused to shed.
• My mind drifted, unbidden to the past.
• 17 years ago.
• The storm had been relentless, the rain pounding against the windshield as Mom struggled to see the road ahead. I was only 10 then, strapped into the car seat, my stomach growling.
• “I'm sorry sweetheart, You must really be hungry” she murmured, glancing back at me. “We’re almost home.”
• The next moment came in flashes: the blinding headlights of the oncoming car, the deafening screech of tires, the crunch of metal.
• Pain exploded through my body, but all I could think about was Mom.
• When I woke up in the hospital, they told me I was lucky to be alive. But I didn’t feel lucky. I had lost my mom…..
• I shook the memory away as the nurse approached.
• “Ms. Sinclair” she said, her tone softer now. “The procedure was a success. Max is stable.”