Chapter 40: Emergency
CHRISTOPHER'S POV
"Since when did you just give up without putting up a fight, Lionel?" I heard Eve's father ask, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and disappointment.
"If you only accept to live for these remaining few weeks you were given, and these kids decide to move up the date for their wedding just to please you, then what happens after the wedding? You just die and leave your son behind as an orphan, again?" he pressed, his words sharp and unyielding.
"That's enough, Adolf," my father said, his voice laced with exasperation. He looked weary, as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.
"No, it's not enough! You're being selfish, Lionel. And I guarantee you, you'll never rest in peace if you leave things like this," Mr. Adolf spat angrily, his frustration reaching a boiling point.
"How dare you, Adolf!" my father barked, his eyes flashing with anger. But before he could say another word, a sharp grimace contorted his face. He clutched at his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps, before collapsing to the floor. He had fainted.
"Father!!!" I screamed, my voice raw with panic as I gently lowered him to the ground.
"Move out of the way! Call 911 immediately!" Eve's father instructed, his voice calm but firm. He dropped to his knees beside my unconscious father, his movements swift and decisive.
My hands fumbled with my phone, desperately trying to dial the emergency number, but I couldn't seem to coordinate my fingers. They trembled uncontrollably, making it impossible to even unlock the screen.
"Let me," Eve said, gently taking the phone from my shaking hands and swiftly dialing the number.
I watched in helpless terror as Mr. Adolf gently propped my father's head back, placing his ear close to his nose, desperately trying to detect any signs of breathing. My heart lurched with each passing second, the fear gripping me with icy fingers. What if he's not breathing?
"His pulse is weak, and his breathing is really shallow," Mr. Adolf said, his brow furrowed in concentration. He quickly ripped open the buttons of my father's shirt, exposing his chest, and began pressing forcefully, rhythmically, on his sternum, attempting to resuscitate him.
I watched in horror as he tried and tried and tried again, but nothing seemed to be working. My father remained still and unresponsive, his face pale and lifeless.
"Goddamnit, Lionel! Open your eyes!" Eve's father said, his voice a harsh, desperate plea. He balled his hands into fists and, wrapping them together, began striking repeatedly on my father's left chest with a forceful, precise rhythm. On the tenth strike, we heard my father gasp, a deep, rattling breath that echoed in the silent room. His eyelids fluttered, and he slowly, groggily, opened his eyes.
"Father!" I called out, rushing to his side as a wave of relief washed over me, so intense it almost buckled my knees. I gently helped him sit up on the floor, supporting his weight.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice weak and disoriented as he looked around the room, confusion clouding his eyes. "Why am I on the floor?"
"You had a heart attack, Lionel," Eve's father said, rising slowly from his crouched position. His clothes were soaked in sweat, his face etched with exhaustion. The strain of what he'd just done was evident in every line of his body.
"Honestly, you're lucky to be alive," he continued, his voice firm. "You have to undergo the surgery as soon as possible. Otherwise, you might not even make it to your son's wedding. Any more attacks on your heart would likely be fatal."
Just then, the piercing wail of an ambulance siren echoed from downstairs, growing louder as it drew closer. A minute later, Alonso appeared, his face etched with concern, ushering the paramedics into the study. My father was carefully transferred onto a stretcher and quickly transported to the hospital for further evaluation and monitoring.
"Everything will be fine," Eve said, offering my hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze as we made our way to the hospital, following closely behind the ambulance.
As we arrived at the hospital, we were met by a throng of reporters who had somehow already gathered at the entrance. Cameras flashed, and microphones were thrust in our faces. Thankfully, security kept them from breaching the hospital grounds, allowing us to make our way inside after a brief, chaotic shuffle.
We rushed towards the emergency ward, but a nurse redirected us to a private ward where my father had been admitted.
When we entered the room, he was already asleep, the effects of the medication already taking hold. He lay still and peaceful in the bed, hooked up to a tangle of wires and tubes. Eve's father stood beside the bed, his brow furrowed in concentration as he checked my father's vital signs on the bedside monitor.
"How is he?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, afraid of disturbing my father.
"He's stable for now, but we need to act fast," he said, his gaze meeting mine with a solemn intensity. He patted me reassuringly on the shoulder before leaving the room with a group of other doctors, their hushed voices fading as they disappeared down the hallway.
I stood there, transfixed, staring at my father's still form. A wave of helplessness washed over me. There was nothing I could do to help him, nothing but wait and hope. I felt Eve's hand gently rubbing my back, and the simple gesture offered a momentary respite from the turmoil raging within me. Turning to her, I pulled her close, burying my face in her hair and holding her tightly.
"Thank you, love. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't here with me," I whispered, my voice thick with gratitude. She just held me close, patting my back with a comforting rhythm.
She pulled away gently, cupping the side of my face with her hand, her eyes searching mine.
"Let's go and eat something. Your dad will be okay, I promise," she said, her voice incredibly soothing. I couldn't help but nod, drawn in by her calming presence.
Maybe a change of scenery would do me some good.
As we walked out of the room and headed for the elevator, I felt Eve stumble forward slightly. I instinctively reached out, catching her before she could lose her balance.
"Hey, hey… what's wrong?" I asked, my voice laced with concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine," she insisted, but I wasn't buying it. I'd already made up my mind that we were going to see a doctor to get her checked out.
"I'm just feeling a little lightheaded. It's nothing serious," she stated, after taking a deep breath.
"Doesn't matter. Let's see a doctor first before going to the cafeteria, alright?" I said, my tone leaving no room for argument. She finally relented and agreed.
A nurse escorted us to a doctor's office. Eve went inside while I remained in the waiting room, my anxiety growing with each passing moment. I saw a nurse enter the office, and she emerged a few minutes later carrying a small vial filled with blood. I inwardly panicked, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. I rubbed my sweaty palms together, trying to calm my racing heart, and waited for her, clinging to the hope that everything would be alright.
A few agonizing minutes later, Eve emerged from the office, looking as though she'd just seen a ghost. Her face was pale, and her eyes were wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief.
"Is everything okay?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I resisted the urge to bombard her with questions about what the doctor had said, and waited for her to tell me in her own time, if she wanted to.
"Uhmm, yeah… everything is fine. Let's just wait for the test results," she said, her voice sounding distant and strained.
"Alright… that's good to hear," I said, releasing a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
Just as we were making our way towards the cafeteria, I spotted Lexi, Stephanie, Cole, and Franklin all walking purposefully into the hospital, their faces etched with concern. Lexi was practically running.
"Frank!" I called out, my voice cutting through the hushed atmosphere. He paused, searching for the source of his name, and finally spotted me. I waved at him, beckoning him over.
All four of them turned and started walking towards us, their pace quickening with each step.
"I heard about Uncle… how is he?" Lexi asked, jumping into my arms and hugging me tightly. I couldn't help but chuckle at her overly affectionate behavior, her genuine concern warming my heart.
"I can't breathe, Lizzy," I said, my voice slightly muffled against her hair, before she finally let go.
"He's resting at the moment," I said, answering everyone's unspoken question.
"What even happened? What's wrong with him?" Lexi asked again, her eyes wide with worry.
"We just heard on the news that your father was rushed to the hospital, so we came as fast as we could," Stephanie said, her voice filled with concern.
"Me and Eve are on our way to the cafeteria. You can join us if you want. I'll tell you guys everything there," I said.
"Of course," Cole said, nodding in agreement. And with that, we all turned and headed towards the cafeteria.
People stared as we walked, some subtly snapping pictures with their phones, while others gaped openly, their mouths agape. Unfortunately, I knew we'd be another trending topic, another breaking news story, within the hour.
We managed to find a relatively secluded corner in the cafeteria and settled in. It was the biggest hospital in the country, as I'd come to learn, and the food was surprisingly good, it could easily go toe-to-toe with the fare at any seven-star restaurant.
I recounted everything that had happened with my father, starting from the moment I'd first learned about his illness to the devastating heart attack that morning.
"So, up until now, Uncle hadn't given his consent for the surgery?" Lexi asked, her voice laced with anxiety.
"We're hoping that when he wakes up, he'll change his mind," I said, trying to infuse my voice with optimism, though doubt still lingered in my heart.
We were still talking when my phone buzzed insistently, signaling an incoming call. It was an unknown number.
"Hello?" I said, waiting for a response.
"Your father is awake. He wants to see you," the caller said, his voice brusque and impersonal, before abruptly hanging up.
"Father's awake. Let's go," I said, jumping to my feet. Eve quickly followed, her face etched with concern.
As we drew closer to his ward, my heart hammered against my ribs. I tried to mentally prepare myself for whatever he might say, but my mind refused to focus, reeling with a chaotic mixture of hope and dread.
We finally reached his room and stepped inside. True to what the caller had said, he was awake. He was sitting up in bed, surrounded by Eve's father and a couple of other older doctors I hadn't seen before. They were talking and laughing, their relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside me.
"There you are, my boy!" I heard my father exclaim as soon as we entered. His voice was weaker than usual, but the warmth in his tone sent a surge of relief through me.
"Uncle!" Lexi cried, rushing towards him and gently embracing him. Tears welled in her eyes and streamed down her face.
"Aww, don't cry, my dear," my father said, patting her back with a gentle smile.
"Uncle, you have to do the surgery. You're the only father figure I have," she said, her voice thick with emotion, her plea tugging at my heartstrings.
"Alright, alright, I will… I'll do the surgery," my father finally agreed, his voice softer now. A wave of relief washed over me, but a nagging doubt remained. Did it really take Lexi's tears to sway him? As if reading my thoughts, he added, refuting any such notion:
"Really?" Lexi asked, her eyes widening with surprise and gratitude.
"I was going to agree anyway. Otherwise, Adolf wouldn't leave me alone," he said, eyeing Eve's father with a playful, almost mischievous look.
"Thank you, Father," I said, my voice choked with emotion. I walked towards him, my strides long and purposeful, a deep sense of gratitude welling up inside me. I felt the tension that had been coiling tightly within me for days begin to dissipate, replaced by a profound sense of relief.
"Christopher, meet the three old bastards who will be performing my surgery. We were best friends growing up," my father said, gesturing towards the three doctors in the room with a wry grin.
"I can't understand where you get this confidence from, Lionel. You're an old man too, you know," one of the doctors retorted, his voice laced with affection, and the room erupted in laughter.
"Your son really is your carbon copy, Adolf! Come and greet this old man," my father said, gesturing towards Cole. Cole quickly walked towards him, shaking his hand with genuine warmth.
The atmosphere in the room had undergone a dramatic transformation, shifting from gloomy apprehension to warm and genuine happiness. I couldn't have been more grateful.
Let's pray for a successful surgery, then, I thought silently, hope blooming in my heart like a fragile flower pushing its way through the darkness.