RENT A HEART

EVE's POV

Turning in my sleep, my eyes fluttered open as I became aware of movement beside me. Chris's grip around my body tightened possessively as he slept. Looking up at his face, I noticed beads of sweat glistening on his brow and temple, tracing paths down his cheek. His brow was furrowed, his expression pinched, and he muttered unintelligible things under his breath. The pillow beneath his head was soaked, and a chill ran through me as I wondered what tormenting dream held him captive.

*He must be having a really bad nightmare.*

"Baby, wake up," I whispered softly, but he didn't stir. In fact, the more I called out, the more his hold around my body constricted, as if he were desperately clinging to reality.

"Chris, wake up," I repeated, shaking him gently, but he remained locked in his nightmare, still muttering incoherently.

A tremor of fear ran through me. It had been several minutes since I'd started trying to rouse him, and my efforts were having no effect.

"Christopher," I called out, this time a little louder, more insistent. I shook him more vigorously, and thankfully, he woke with a start. His breath hitched in his throat, and his eyes were unfocused, darting wildly around the room before finally settling on me.

"Eve?" he said, his voice hoarse and strained, barely a whisper.

"Yes, baby, I'm here," I said, my voice soft and reassuring. I cradled his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me, to ground himself in the present moment.

My heart ached as I saw how disheveled and terrified he looked, his eyes wide with lingering fear.

He pushed himself up to a sitting position and instantly pulled me into his arms, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe.

"Oh, thank God… thank God," he breathed heavily into my ear, the words a desperate prayer. I felt his heart pounding rapidly against my own chest, faster, incredibly faster than normal. I gently patted him on the back, murmuring soothing words, and over time, his breathing gradually returned to a more normal rhythm.

I tried to pull away slowly, wanting to give him space, but he held on tighter. "Let's stay like this a little longer, please," he pleaded softly, his voice laced with a childlike vulnerability that made my heart ache. I pulled him closer, wanting to shield him from whatever horrors he'd just faced.

"Must have been a really bad dream," I said after a while, my voice gentle. I'd hoped he would open up, believing that sharing his fears might ease his burden.

"It was a terrible nightmare, the kind I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy…" he said, his voice still rough with lingering emotion. He pressed a soft kiss to the crook of my neck before gently pulling away, his eyes searching mine.

"Thank God it's over now," he said, pushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle and reassuring.

I was a little disappointed that he didn't tell me more about his dream, but regardless, I was relieved that he seemed to be returning to his normal self.

I kissed him on the temple before getting out of bed as it was nearing daybreak.

"Babe, where are you going?" he asked, already getting out of bed himself and following me.

"To the bathroom, obviously," I chuckled, glancing at his disgruntled expression in the mirror as I began brushing my teeth.

"I mean… I know, babe, but I meant, are you planning to go out… to the office, perhaps?" he asked, his voice hesitant.

"Hmm," I nodded before spitting out the foamy toothpaste. "Yes, I'm going to the office. I have a mountain of work to get through and an important meeting with some investors," I said, leaving the bathroom and heading back to the bedroom.

"Couldn't you delegate some of that stuff to your subordinates… you know, maybe Stephanie?" he suggested, and I stopped dead in my tracks, turning to narrow my eyes at him.

"Why would I delegate my work to my lawyer friend?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest. He just scratched his brow, avoiding my gaze.

"What is this about? Is this about the dream? Did something happen to me in your dream?"

"No, babe… no, it's not about the dream. I just feel like you need maximum rest at this point, since you're, you know… pregnant," he said, shrugging nonchalantly.

But looking closer, I could see through his facade. The worry and apprehension in his eyes were impossible to mask.

Sighing, I took his hand and led him to the foot of the bed, where we sat down together.

"Chris," I started, smiling softly at him. "I'm only four weeks pregnant. I've registered for antenatal classes, and of course, with you by my side, I'll get through the remaining thirty-six weeks healthy and strong, alright. But I still have to go to the office, work, schedule meetings, and also run a fashion empire. So just trust that I'll be okay, alright" I said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before getting up and heading to the closet to get dressed.

We left my house after having breakfast, which he made. My favorite breakfast, actually, as it was the only thing I'd been craving that morning.

He dropped me off at the company, accompanying me to the doorstep of my office before I finally chased him away, telling him he needed to leave for his own commitments.

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After sifting through mountains of documents, both soft copies and hard copies, my eyes felt like they were about to detach from their sockets. My back ached, so I pushed away from my desk and headed to the sofa for a brief respite.

As soon as I sank into the plush cushions, my phone rang. I glanced at the screen. It was just a number, no name attached.

I stared at it suspiciously for a moment before deciding to answer. Who knows, maybe it belongs to an important client.

"Hello, this is Eve Mikleson. To whom am I speaking?" I asked, my voice professional. There was a brief, noticeable silence before the caller replied, and the voice I heard sent a jolt of icy dread down my spine.

"What do you want, Frederick?" I asked, forcing myself to maintain a clear, steady tone, trying to mask the fear that was clawing at my insides.

Ever since I'd overheard Chris and my brother discussing Frederick's role in Chris's accident, the fear I felt for him had only intensified. I prayed I wouldn't encounter him anywhere, especially alone. I'd blocked his number everywhere I could find it, blocked his socials, and instructed my company's security to never allow him access to the building, yet here he was, calling me on a different number.

"Hello, Eve," he simply said, his voice sending goosebumps erupting across my skin. It sounded sinister, ominous, sending the warning bells in my mind into overdrive.

Just as I was trying to formulate the right response, my office door opened, and Stephanie walked in. Her unexpected presence was a welcome wave of courage, so I subtly gestured for her to remain silent while I put the call on speaker and activated the recording function on my phone.

"What do you want, Frederick? Why are you calling me?" I repeated, my voice sharper this time.

Stephanie made a disgusted face when she realized who was on the other end of the line.

I had briefly entertained the idea that he might be calling to apologize, but even if that were the case, I didn't think I could ever forgive him for everything he'd done to me, and especially to Chris. But the words that came out of his mouth next made me think he needed a serious psychiatric evaluation.

"I heard you're getting married to that jerk. I already told you, he doesn't deserve you. He cannot love you the way I do, Eve. You still have time to back out of that charade and come back to me. I would give you everything you want, I promise," he said, his voice dripping with a possessive obsession that made my stomach churn.

I was completely speechless, utterly devoid of words. I had no idea what to say.

"You don't need to reply now. Just sleep on it, and I'll call again tomorrow," he said, and hung up before I could even muster a single syllable.

"I don't think he's mentally stable," Stephanie said, shaking her head in disbelief.

I grabbed my phone, clicked on the number, and blacklisted it, hoping that would prevent him from reaching me again. But knowing this version of Frederick, I was certain he would try again, using another number, another tactic.

"You need to report him to the police," she suggested, her voice firm.

"And tell them what? That my ex-high school crush has gone completely nuts and wants me to ditch my fiancé for him?" I asked, my irritation building.

"For starters, you tell them that he's stalking you, and I'll happily file a restraining order against him, which will legally restrict him from ever coming near you," she said.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. Tension throbbed at my temples. "This isn't just what I need right now, you know?"

"Or maybe tell Chris… tell him everything Frederick said. Matter of fact, play the recording for him to listen to," she suggested, but I immediately shook my head, refuting the idea.

"No, I can't tell him," I said, my voice firm.

"Why not?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at me, clearly sensing that I wasn't being entirely honest.

"He has a lot on his plate right now with Atlantis. I don't want to add another issue to his stress. I'll handle Frederick myself. So, no, I can't tell Chris," I stated, my voice leaving no room for argument.

"You can't tell me what?" Chris asked, his voice suddenly filling the room as he walked in, unannounced, into my office.