Chapter Four: Unexpected Results

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and Eveline rushed out, panting softly. She’d run through the parking lot—from the free spot she found to park her car, through the hospital lobby, narrowly avoiding a man in a wheelchair and an IV hooked to his arm, barely making it into the elevator before it closed.

She strode down the hallway, her steps brisk and impatient, a prayer at the back of her mind. “Please, don’t let him be dead. Please…he’s the only thing I have left.”

Her phone had been buzzing nonstop since she left Lucien—the jerk’s house—and she had over twenty missed calls from Shane.

She couldn’t handle it right now, the excuses he was bound to give her, the lies he’d force down her throat.

After all, she hadn’t walked into the room or taken pictures as evidence. All she had was her word, and he was good at twisting them whenever they argued.

Her father was more important.

She turned down a corridor, her heart in her mouth. Nurse Belinda had told her, after the second time Eveline came rushing in from the clinic, white as a sheet, that she didn’t want her dying while her father was still alive.

So, she only texted when it was bad, so Eveline wouldn’t drop dead from a call. It didn’t make any difference to Eveline.

“Evie?”

She spun, hearing Nurse Belinda’s fond nickname for her. The nurse was holding a cStorm, her brows creased with worry. “Hey,” she hurried over. “Is everything okay?”

Eveline exhaled shakily, wiping her hands down her wrinkled pants nervously. She’d stopped at the clinic to pick up the change of clothes she always kept in her locker, because she couldn’t bear to face Shane. And she couldn’t come to the hospital with Lucien’s scent on her.

“My dad. You sent me a message. How bad is it?”

“Your dad?” Belinda repeated. “Oh…” her tone softened. She took Eveline’s hand, patting it. “I’m so sorry, hon. I made the mistake of texting you. You said you were spending the weekend with your boyfriend, so I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s good news,” she whispered excitedly, leaning close. “The hospital recently hired a specialist. He was out of the country for a decade. He came back a month ago, but they’ve brought him on board. He should be able to help your dad.”

Eveline gasped quietly, her eyes going wide as a flicker of hope lit inside her. “Really?” A tiny part of her was hesitant to believe it…because it had been five years. Five years of searching for a cure, seeing specialists and surgeons, with rounds of surgeries that left her dad weaker than the last.

Belinda nodded vigorously. “Yup. He should be here any minute now. He had to see the director, but he’ll stop by the room as soon as he’s done. You can go wait for him.” She gave Eveline a small, encouraging smile.

Eveline watched her walk away, pausing to talk to a patient at the end of the hallway before heading in the opposite direction. She took another turn, walking into an open space marked “NEUROSURGERY INTENSIVE UNIT.”

Her dad’s room was the one at the end. She could hear the steady beeping sound of the machines as she stopped outside the door, her hand halfway to the doorknob.

Her throat felt tight, and tears clung to her eyes.

She shook her head. She’d promised herself she wasn’t going to cry in front of him. Taking a deep breath, she entered.

He was in bed, as always, heavily sedated from the drugs they frequently pumped him with. An oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth, with all kinds of tubes snaking out from various parts of his body. The room was filled with machines, their beeps varying in rhythm.

They were the only things keeping him alive; he wouldn’t have lasted long.

Eveline swallowed thickly as she neared his bed. “Hi, Dad,” she whispered, taking his warm hand in hers. “I’m here. Nurse Belinda said there’s hope for you. There’s a new doctor—” her voice broke, “—he’s an expert, apparently. He’s going to help you, Dad. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

Silence greeted her, and it was crushing.

She gently placed his hand back, going to sit on the single chair at the other end of the room.

Her phone vibrated against her thigh. She took it out. It was a text from Shane.

“Baby, where are you? I called the clinic, and they said you took the weekend off. Are you okay? I sent the itinerary for the trip. I wanted you to take a look at it.”

She rolled her eyes. It was like the roses he bought for her after he forgot their first anniversary. Her favorite flower was lilies. She’d told him the week before. He blamed it on work, saying that they had him doing overtime. He promised he’d never forget again and had filled the kitchen with lilies the next day.

Eveline had made excuses for him back then.

She was still in school—he was paying the rent and other utilities. She had no right to complain…and didn’t he make it up to her? But it was the little things…the ones she let slide, that she should’ve been worried about.

Her phone vibrated again.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Another text.

“What about Maldives? I saved up some money. Or Thailand? I’m sure I can work something out for a weekend. Let’s take some time off, babe…you and me. It’s been a while since I had you all to myself.” With a wink emoji, followed by an eggplant.

Eveline almost threw up in her mouth.

She couldn’t imagine him ever touching her again, or his dick getting anywhere close to her body.

“Does sweet Shane make you come like I do?” That voice…deep, smug, and all pure arrogance slipped into her thoughts, completely unwelcome. A faint warmth followed in her belly, spreading inch by inch, no matter how much she tried to ignore it.

She could feel every second of it, every stray pulse, every traitorous clench.

Eveline's fists curled as she dug her toes into her shoes, forcing her thoughts to cooperate. She was in her father’s hospital room, for crying out loud.

“Evie—”

Her head shot up as Nurse Belinda walked in. “The doctor,” she said, stepping aside. “I’d like you to meet…”

Eveline was no longer listening. The blood had drained from her face, and her phone slipped from her fingers, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. She opened her lips and a single syllable came out:

“You.”