Chapter 8

Grandpa was startled by Paul’s actions and stepped in front of me.

“Doctor, doesn’t the person donating the heart have to be dead?”

“No. The patient’s condition is critical. The donor can use an artificial heart first, then undergo another transplant once a suitable match is found.”

“But Emily is pregnant.” Grandpa looked at Paul in alarm.

Paul froze, as if only just realizing. His expression turned complicated, then gradually pained.

“Emily, you’re still young. We can have another child, but Elizabeth can’t wait. She’s your aunt. You wouldn’t just watch her die, would you?”

There was negotiation in his tone and even pleading.

For the first time, he lowered himself to speak to me, begging me to give my heart to the woman he loved.

How could I refuse?

Wouldn’t he simply kill me and take it anyway if I did?

Tears slid down my face. With a bitter smile, I walked into the matching room.

Three days later, the results came out.

I wasn’t a match.

Fortunately, the hospital found a compatible heart.

When Paul told me the news, I saw him smile with undisguised joy. The gloom that had lingered on his face these past days vanished completely.

Then he said to me, “Emily, your parents are gone. I just don’t want you to lose another relative. After all, Elizabeth has taken good care of you.”

His explanation grew weaker and weaker, but I no longer wanted to question it.

That night, members of the committee suddenly came one after another. They held an emergency meeting in the study.

As I passed by, I heard dissatisfied voices inside.

“Don Garcia, are you sure about this? Have you considered the side effects of this surgery? If your enemies find out, have you thought about what consequences this will bring to the family?”

“That’s right. Elizabeth isn’t a member of the family. Emily is donna, and she’s carrying your heir. If something happens during the surgery, what about her and the child?”

“That’s enough. This matter cannot leave this room. I’m willing to give up thirty percent of my personal assets for the committee to distribute. As for Emily and the child, if anything happens to me, take care of them for me.”

The matching heart was Paul’s. He was going to give his heart to Elizabeth, literally.

For her, he was willing to defy the family and abandon his wife and child to save the woman he truly loved.

What a devoted don!

The urge to push open the door slowly faded.

Back in my room, I received the flight confirmation. I took out my phone and selected a window seat.

When I woke up the next morning, Paul was no longer home. I guessed he had gone to the hospital.

I put my luggage into the trunk and drove to pick up the divorce decree. Then I went to the post office, placed it and the miscarriage report in an exquisite box, before handing it to the clerk.

“Please send this to Garcia Manor in one month.”

A month from now will be Paul’s birthday. By then, he would likely have been discharged.

This would be the birthday gift I had carefully prepared for him.

After finishing my errands, I went to the family hospital. The place was under the highest level of security.

Outside the ward, I saw Paul pressing Elizabeth’s hand against his face.

His eyes were filled with mixed emotions of sadness, relief, and deep love.

To avoid awkwardness, I stepped back a few steps and deliberately made a sound with my heels.

When I walked in again, Paul took the initiative to open the door for me.

“When is the surgery?” I looked at Elizabeth, still unconscious, and asked calmly.

“Tomorrow morning.” He checked his watch, then added, “But I have to leave. I need to go back to Enotria to deal with some urgent matters. I won’t be back for a month. Promise me that while I’m gone, you’ll take care of yourself and the baby.”

“Of course I will.”

I straightened his tie and said in my mind, ‘I’ll take good care of myself in the days without you.’

I walked him to the elevator and pressed the down button. As the doors slowly closed, I smiled at him.

“Goodbye, Paul.”

The formality of my tone made him frown slightly, but the doors had already shut.

After I turned away, the elevator, which should have gone down, slowly began to rise.

While he walked into the operating preparation room, I drove away from the hospital.

He lay down on the operating table after changing into a patient gown.

At the airport, I threw my SIM card into the trash.

The surgery began. Under anesthesia, he fell into a deep sleep. As for me, the plane bound for Spain had already taken me into the sky.

I looked out at the sea of clouds and smiled freely.

Goodbye, Paul, my once beloved.

This time, we will never meet again.