Marriage Deal With Mr. CEO

ChapterThree

“I'm sorry Miss Brown. We couldn't get a heart donor like I promised” Dr. Bush's words repeated in my ears as my eyes opened.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, I was stuck, unable to respond. It seemed as if my heart had stopped pulsing at that instant.

The doctor's words appeared to fly around my mind, as if they were searching for somewhere to rest.

I blinked a few times, attempting to concentrate but was useless. I literally became numb.

All this time I'd been hanging onto hope, thinking that my mum would be fine, we would get a donor, the doctor promised to help us find a donor so my mum could have her surgery… now what was he saying? that there was no donor?

“Dr. Bush, I don't understand,” I said, my voice kinda shaky as my mind raced. "You promised me..you said.. you said that you would find a donor, that my mum's surgery would go perfectly.."

I trailed off trying to calm my anxieties the picked up again.

"You said she would be good and that I could talk to her today." My voice rose in pitch as tears started to form in my eyes. “So what's going on?.. I'm lost.”

Dr. Bush took a deep breath. “Please Miss Brown, take it easy.” He said.

“Doctor please, can you not ask me to take it easy and just tell me what's wrong with my mum? I stopped at her ward on my way here, she's not opened her eyes yet. I'm scared.. I'm scared, doctor. What's going on! What do I do?” I let these words out without a break and amidst tears.

I was truly tired of life.

My hopes were high. I thought my mum would be fine by the time I got here today like the doctor had told me when I met him last week only to hear this? No giver.. So what happens to my mum?

“Miss. Brown, please calm down. It's not the end yet. We just need to buy a heart and that's it, the surgery will be done and your mum will be fine again.”

Dr. Bush's words barely registered as I felt myself giving in to a void of hopelessness.

“Buy a heart?” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. “What do you mean, buy a heart?”

The doctor sighed, his face grave.

"I know this isn't what you want to hear, but the fact is, there aren't enough donors to go around," he remarked, his words kind but forceful. "And those who can pay the most typically grab the ones that are on offer."

“But, what about the waitlist?” I asked, my voice trembling with confusion and desperation. “I thought my mom was on it. Wasn't that meant to promise her a donor?”

Dr. Bush shook his head.

“Unfortunately, the waitlist is… well, more of a suggestion than a guarantee,” he said, his voice heavy with sorrow. “There are simply too many people waiting for too few hearts.”

My heart sank further.

“So, what do I do, Dr. Bush?.. I want my mum living please. I need her alive”

“Miss Brow, the truth is, the waitlist is unreliable. But we can find a heart from another source.. It’s not going to be easy, and it won’t be cheap. Money is going to be a big factor.” He paused, looking at me with understanding eyes. “But I believe it can be done.”

I nodded, absorbing the seriousness of his words. “I'm willing to do whatever it takes,” I said, my voice determined. “How much are we talking about??”

“From what I know huh, it could be anywhere from $20,000,000 to over $300,000,000 depending on how severe or urgent the situation is.. so I can't give you a specific amount right now,” The doctor responded.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart racing at the amount I just heard.

All I had in my savings wasn't even up to a million dollars. I kept on taking in sharp breaths, my eyes moving around.

I couldn't think, went numb. Where would I get such a big sum of money from??

If I was to take a 5 years advance payment from my boss at the bar, it still wouldn't cover this.

I could feel the hot tears I was trying to hold freely stream down my cheeks now.

These past few weeks had been hell for me.. no, not the last few weeks, since my dad died.

We used to be okay, my dad's Art store used to do well. I didn't go to school in New York, went to school in Paris, France, where I studied Graphics/Art Design. Growing up I used to love drawing a lot and also used to get so many praises for it.

Basically, my family was a happy one until my dad went about two years ago and never returned.

We heard months later from his helper that he had a fatal accident even though we never saw his dead body and also that he had sold the Art store before his death.

It was funny.

He didn't tell anyone, no family, not even his wife, he sold our family's only source of income.

The questions surrounding his death, the loss of our family's Art gallery, it had been all too much to bear.. thinking too much about it led to my mum's sickness, she had a serious heart attack three months after his sudden disappearance.

It's been two years already.. I still miss him so much, so much, especially now.

I let out a deep breath I didn't even know I was holding, trying to hold myself from losing it in the doctor's office..

“I can't lose my mum too,” I whispered, my voice very low.

Dr. Bush reached out and put a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“Miss Brown,” he said, his voice warm with sympathy. “I’d advise you to take it easy and not harm your health. Your mum needs you.”

I took a deep breath, trying to settle myself as I faced the doctor. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Bush. I need to go now,” I said, my voice still wavering.

The doctor’s face was serious. “Alright Miss Brown. But remember the longer we wait, the greater the risk to your mum.”

I nodded and left the office.

Looking quickly outside at my wristwatch, I realized it was almost time for my daily duties at the bar.

I would have taken the bus on a regular day, but this time I hardly gave it any thought. I needed to clear my head, to think.

As I walked, my thoughts went back to the talk with the doctor.

How could I possibly get the money required to save mother's life?

I was only a bartender, barely making ends meet as it was. And I was handling her health expenses.

I could not let her go too; she was all I had left.

I heard a vehicle honk behind me thirty minutes into my stroll to the bar. First assuming it's simply one of those horns you hear on the street, I paid little attention; then, the horn became more forceful and I stopped, curious.

I had great appreciation for the car that was parked in front of me.

This was a sleek, silver sports car, the kind that would make even the richest millionaires salive.

My head whirled as I considered who could possible be operating such a luxurious car.

Just then a man got out of the car. My heart skipped a beat the moment I set sight on his face.

It was the friendly bartender man who had been so tenacious in his approaches.

He was dressed so nice, his clothes made to fit his strong body perfectly. He had the kind of looks that could make any woman's legs weak.. chiseled cheekbones, dark eyes that seemed to sparkle with fun, pride, and hair that was dressed just so.

"Hey," he said, showing me a smile that would make most women swoon.

"You," I said, my voice jagged with feeling. Though at that time I couldn't force myself to care, I knew I should have been suspicious of this guy.

"You have a problem, right?" He remarked, his grin withering into a more austere expression. "Your mother's sick, you desperately need money."

I blinked, surprised by his sudden openness. How did he know? Was he watching me?

I was going to say something else but the words that came out were,

"Can you really help me?” My voice shook with feelings.

“All it takes is a yes,” he said, the corners of his lips twisting into a knowing grin. “Marry me on contract and that’s it.”

I didn't even think, didn't want to think.

“I'll do it. I'll marry you.” I said, my frantic eyes locked on his.