Chapter Four

Ethan's POV

Today was my birthday but I didn't feel like celebrating it, because it would only reopen the wound of the death of my wife. My only focus today was to go find out what meeting my mother had called me for. I just hope it wasn't another setup with some billionaire daughters she wanted me to marry.

As my car pulled up to the mansion, I started hearing sounds like there was a celebration going on. My eyebrows arched in confusion as I stepped down, scanning the environment.

Had my mother disregarded my request not to celebrate my birthday?

I turned to Caleb, my personal assistant. “Do you know about this?” He shook his head. “No sir,” he said, his head lowered.

Reluctantly, I walked into the living room, to be greeted by familiar faces. My mom had thrown a small party with a few close friends and my two aunties.

Lest I forget, I was the only child of my parents.

A big, decorated cake with my favourite color, blue, sat on the centre table, adorned with the inscription, “Happy 30th birthday, Ethan King.

Immediately my mom rushed to my side, I shot her a disapproving look. “I told you not to do this.”

“I'm sorry, but your aunties made this up to celebrate your thirtieth birthday.” Mom said with a smile.

“Ethan,” Aunty Betty called, walking towards me with a wide smile. “Come cut your cake,” she said, pulling me toward the cake.

“My Ethan is a big man now.” Aunt Lora said, giggling as she handed me the cutting knife.

Reluctantly, I cut the cake, and the room erupted into cheers and applause. The music increased and it only annoyed me as it was too loud for such a small gathering.

“Mom,” I called, sitting down and gently pulling her to sit beside me. “I need to go get Lily from the daycare,” I said, raising my voice over the loud music.

“Don't use that as an excuse, your chef can take care of her,”Isreal, one of my friends chimed in.

“My chef only cooks, not takes care of…..Li..ly,” my words began slurring. I coughed, thinking I needed to clear my throat. But as I opened my mouth to speak, my lips started trembling.

“Are you okay?” My mom asked. I nodded and forced a smile to reassure her.

“If you say so,” she replied and stood up to dance with the others.

I started to feel some strange sensation under my fingers. I noticed my dad's concerned gaze on me, so I quickly hid my fingers to pretend all was well, but then, my hand started shaking uncontrollably.

While struggling to keep my composure, I accidentally knocked over a glass of wine on the stool beside me. It shattered on the floor, drawing everyone's attention.

“What's wrong with you?” My dad asked, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“I don't know,” I admitted.

As I tried standing up, my leg started shaking violently, forcing me back into my seat.

“We need to take you to the hospital now!” My mom shouted, fear etched on her face.

I was rushed to the hospital without delay and was immediately wheeled into the emergency room. My doctor friend, Dr. Adam, was on duty so he was the one who attended to me.

“Ethan, when was the last time you took your medications?” Adam asked immediately we were left alone, his brow furrowed.

“Em….I had forgotten to take it recently…I had been busy and Lily had been a handful.”

“But you know you're not doing yourself good. You're shortening your lifespan!” Adam’s voice began to increase.

“Reduce your voice please, my mom might be right behind the door, I don't want her to hear you,” I quickly cautioned.

Adam exhaled, his expression serious. “When are you going to tell them about your condition?” He asked, his brow furrowed with concern. I let out a deep breath, unsure of how to reply to him.

I had been diagnosed with Huntington disease a month after my wife's death. I was scared of sharing the bad news with my parents. They’d be devastated to know that my condition was chronic and I might not have more than ten years left.

No parents wouldn't develop a heart attack, knowing their child’s time on earth is limited.

“If you want to extend your life, you need to take your medications as appropriate.” Adam said bluntly, his voice filled with concern.

“I'm sure you don't want Lily to become an orphan,” he added, making my heart skip a beat.

Leaving Lily alone on this earth was my biggest fear. I worried that my parents wouldn't take care of her the way I did. They had never approved of her mother, and I had noticed they'd passed the hatred on to Lily, their own grandchild.

“I promise to take my medications on time. Please, don't tell my parents about my condition,” I pleaded. Adam nodded reluctantly.

After being discharged, I returned home to be greeted by Lily’s loud cries. My chef, Beatrice, was trying her best to soothe her by singing lullabies for her. Immediately she sighted me, Lily's face lit up with a smile.

“Thank you, Beatrice.” Beatrice simply nodded, no words; she was obviously exhausted from soothing Lily.

Adam's words replayed in my mind as I held my little, cute angel to my chest. I had promised her mother on her deathbed that I would do everything to take care of our baby.

I wondered how I’d fulfill the promise while battling with a terminal disease.

‘What will happen to my dear Lily if this disease takes my life.’ Tears welled up in my eyes as my mind raced with hurtful thoughts.

‘Ava Blackwood.’ Her name rang in my head. She seemed to like my baby and knew how to care for her.

Maybe proposing a marriage to her would mean fulfilling the promise I made to Lily's mother, even if I’m no longer alive.