Chapter 5
586words
"So what's it going to be?" Nolan pressed. "This is for the kid's sake, not yours."
He was using my love for Owen against me! I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood.
"Fine, I'll sign," I finally conceded. "But I have one condition."
"You're hardly in a position to negotiate," Nolan said coldly.
"I want you to take a bone marrow compatibility test," I said, meeting his gaze directly. "Not for me, but for an innocent child. If you're not a match, I'll sign your agreement and you'll never see me again."
Nolan's brow furrowed. "Why the hell would I do that?"
"Because you're here," I lied smoothly. "The doctor said we need to test as many people as possible to increase our chances of finding a match."
Nolan considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Fine, but whatever the result, you sign the agreement."
"Deal," I agreed, silently praying for a miracle.
Just then, Owen stirred. He blinked open his tired eyes, saw Nolan, and asked with childish curiosity, "Who are you?"
Nolan seemed momentarily at a loss for words. I quickly stepped in. "Owen, this is Mommy's... friend, Mr. Nolan."
"Hello, Mr. Nolan," Owen said politely, then asked, "Did you come to visit me?"
Nolan's face tensed. "Yes."
"Thank you, Mr. Nolan," Owen smiled weakly. "Mommy says kind people always get good things back."
Something flickered in Nolan's eyes—a crack in his armor. But he quickly recovered his composure. "I need to go. Someone will come tomorrow for the compatibility test."
He turned and strode out without looking back at Owen. I stood by the window, tears sliding down my cheeks. Had Nolan really changed so much? The once warm, loving man had turned to ice.
The next day, Nolan sent his personal physician to collect samples. He himself was nowhere to be seen, clearly avoiding any further contact with Owen or me.
"Mr. Nolan sends his apologies—he's tied up in meetings all day," the physician explained smoothly. "He asked me to handle this personally."
I nodded, feeling both disappointed and relieved. Maybe it was better this way. I wouldn't have to face his coldness, and Owen wouldn't have to sense that emotional wall.
A week later, the results came back. To my dismay, Nolan and Owen's bone marrow compatibility was only 40%—not enough for a successful transplant.
"We need to keep searching for a better match," the doctor said. "In the meantime, we'll continue with chemotherapy to keep the disease in check."
I swallowed my disappointment and nodded. At least Nolan had kept his word about covering the costs, though I'd had to sign that damned agreement promising to vanish from his life once Owen recovered.
"Mommy, will Mr. Nolan come back to see me?" Owen asked out of the blue.
I froze, unsure how to respond. Nolan clearly wanted nothing to do with us, but I couldn't bear to crush Owen's hopes.
"Mr. Nolan has a very important job, sweetheart," I said gently. "But I'm sure he thinks about you."
Owen nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. But the flash of disappointment in his eyes tore me apart inside.
After chemotherapy began, Owen's condition was a roller coaster. Some days he'd be almost his old self, eating and sleeping well; other days he'd be violently ill, retching through the night. I never left his side, my heart shattering as I watched him battle through it.
