Countdown to My Last Heartbeat

Zane's POV

The rain poured heavily.

My son, Asher Frost, collapsed on the pavement, his skin burning against my palms as his eyes rolled back into his head.

I did not care about the rules anymore. I scooped his feverish body into my arms and bolted toward the front door.

A bulky guard lunged forward to block the entrance.

"Miss Nyla said the kid had to stay outside for ten hours. He has three hours left. You cannot take him inside."

Panic spiked through my chest. I shoved past the guard with everything I had, my voice cracking into a raw scream, "Asher is burning up! If he stays out here for another three hours, he’ll die! Did Nyla order you to kill him?"

Seeing my son limp and unconscious in my arms, the guard froze. He stepped aside, letting us burst through the doorway, but immediately pulled out his phone to call my wife.

I ignored him. I wrapped Asher in a thick blanket, tore through the medicine cabinet, and pressed a cold compress onto his forehead. Just as I reached for a bottle of fever medicine, the front door swung open.

Nyla glided into the foyer in her wheelchair, her face twisted with annoyance. "He’s just a kid. Are you trying to kill him by giving him some random medicine?"

She turned toward the man beside her. "Kieran, check on him."

Kieran Sullivan, our live-in private doctor, stepped forward.

I hesitated but Asher was in bad shape. Kieran was a doctor, after all, so I forced myself to step back and let him examine my son.

Kieran nodded, taking a thermometer out of his bag and placing it under Asher's tongue. Six minutes later, he pulled it out. I caught a glimpse of the digital display. Asher’s temperature was over 104 degrees. A dangerously severe fever.

Kieran slid the thermometer back into his pocket and let out a light laugh. "His body temperature is completely normal. The kid doesn’t have a fever at all. Mr. Zane, you really shouldn’t spoil him like this."

The worry on Nyla's face instantly dissolved into fury. "I caught Asher eating food off the floor and wanted to teach him a lesson before he made himself sick. Instead of backing me up, you’re teaching him to fake an illness to get out of trouble."

She glared at me, her eyes cold. "Fine. Since you feel so sorry for him, you can take his place outside in the rain for ten hours."

Eating off the floor was filthy, but was it any cleaner than the garbage can scraps Asher and I survived on every day?

Her self-righteous speech was a pathetic excuse. She just wanted a reason to punish us because she was still bitter about missing her big reunion with her first love.

When we started dating, I knew she had a high school sweetheart she never completely forgot. Before we got married, she swore to me over and over that she was completely over him.

For a while, our marriage was good. She gave birth to our son, naming him Asher so he would be strong and safe.

Then came the turning point three years ago. Asher was just a toddler, throwing a massive tantrum because he wanted Nyla to take him to the amusement park.

She finally yielded, but that delay caused her to miss her seven-year reunion pact with her first love. She never forgave either of us for that day.