by Luma Rose
A soft knock sounds on the door.
I stand and walk over, swinging it open. A nurse stands there in her scrubs with a bag in her hand.
“Hi,” I say, my voice a little rough from sleep.
“I wanted to check your dad’s vitals,” she says with a small sympathetic smile.
“Of course. I’m going to go change out of these clothes and then I’ll be back.” I step back to let her in and wearily make my way down the hall. My work clothes are twisted and wrinkled around my body and I do my best to right them. When I turn the corner out of the hall, I find Garrin sitting in one of the uncomfortable-looking chairs in the hallway. He’s looking down at his phone, typing away.
“Garrin,” I sigh.
He immediately stands, closing the distance between us, and pulls me into his arms.
The scent of his cologne and the feel of his arms around me are such a comfort, and I weep. I cry into his chest, wetting his suit jacket. He holds me, rubbing a soothing hand up and down my back until I pull away.
“How did you know?” I ask, wiping at the tears on my face.
“Ford called me. So did your mom.”
I nod. I suppose I should have expected that.
“How is he?” There’s deep sympathy in his dark eyes when he uses his thumb to wipe more tears from my cheeks.
“The nurse went in to check on him. I was just going to change.”
“He’s strong. He’ll fight this.”
I press my lips together, determined not to cry again. “I hope so.”
“Believe so.” He cups my cheeks and looks deep into my eyes like he’s trying to give me his strength.
“I’ll try. My mom says there’s not much we can do except wait and see.”
He nods. “I’ll be here the entire time.”
I grip both his wrists. “Will you stay?” I don’t mention a day or a time because… I don’t know. I just want him here.
“Of course.” He leans in and kisses my forehead and I let my eyes drift closed.
He pulls away and my hands drop. “I’m going to go change and then see what the nurse has to say.”
He nods. “I’ll be here.”
In the following days, my dad’s condition worsens. His oxygen and medication have all been increased but aren’t making a difference. My mom and I wait in the hall for the doctor to finish examining my dad, neither of us wanting to see the doctor’s expression while he runs through his checks. Day after day, we’ve stood watching with hope while he examined my dad, and every day, we’ve seen his lips tilt downward, crushing our hope of a recovery.
I told my mom that we should mix it up today, wait outside. At this point, I’m grasping at any little thing to keep my hope alive.
I’m pacing, twirling my earring, while my mom sits in a chair. I thought I might find Garrin there when I came out, but he was gone.
He’s stood vigil with me for days, never leaving, just having Langley bring him some changes of clothes. He has an entire company to help run. I can’t expect him to sit here indefinitely.
The door to the bedroom opens and I whip around, my mom standing from the chair.
“How is he?” I ask.
His lips tip down and my stomach drops.
“It’s time that you both said your goodbyes.”
My mom collapses to the floor with a wail. I immediately rush over, kneeling down and wrapping my arms around her.
“There’s nothing else you can do?” I ask, pleading.
“I’m afraid not.” His expression is grave and I can tell he feels bad about having to give us this news.
My own tears well and drop from my eyes as I hold my mom while she weeps in my arms.
“How long does he have?” I ask.
The doctor crouches down to see how my mom is. “It’s hard to say. Could be days, could be hours.”
I nod.
“I’m sorry I don’t have better news.” He takes my mom’s hand in his, patting it. “I’ve made him comfortable.”
My head drops on top of my mom’s. “Thanks for coming.”
He rises to his feet, and I listen as his soft footfalls head down the hallway.
“I can’t believe it’s come to this,” my mom says. She pulls away and looks at me, despair filling every one of her features.
“Me either.”
We fall into another embrace and hold each other. I don’t know if it’s for minutes or for hours, but all I can think of when I’m sitting there is that this is how it will be from now on, just the two of us.
My mom pulls away, wiping at her face. “I’m going to go in now and say goodbye. I don’t think I can be there when he…” She caves into herself and sobs. My chest aches for all three of us—my mom for losing the love of her life, myself for losing my father, and my dad for losing his life.
I rub my mom’s back, and when she straightens, I say, “That’s okay. I can be there with him.”
My declaration feels like both a privilege and a curse. Because how do you watch the man you’ve loved and looked up to your entire life take his last breath?
My mom nods, wiping at the tears on her face, and pushes up off the floor. I follow suit, going to sit in the chair to wait.
With one last look at me, she slowly opens the door, pausing at the threshold before stepping inside and closing it behind her.
A short while later, Garrin returns. “Hey, sorry. I got a call I had to take, so I figured I’d step out of the hall so I didn’t disturb your dad.” His steps halt when he sees me, and I instantly burst into tears. “What happened?” He sits down next to me and brings me into his arms.
“The doctor said there’s nothing more he can do for my father. It’s just a matter of time.” I burrow my head into his neck.
“Oh no. Isla, I’m so sorry.” He squeezes me tight. “What can I do?”
I pull away and he wipes at the tears on my cheek with his thumb. “Just stay here with me until I have to go in and say goodbye. My mom is in there now.”
He nods, takes my hand in his and we sit there and wait.
It’s a few hours before my mom makes an appearance. It’s obvious she’s been crying and she can barely look at Garrin or me when she closes the door behind her.
“I’ve said all I have to say. If you want to go do the same, now’s the time.”
I nod, letting Garrin’s hand drop, and stand from the chair, walking over to give my mom a hug. “We’ll get through this.” The words leave my lips unbidden.
“I know we will.”
We squeeze each other tighter, and I leave her and Garrin behind to step into the bedroom.
My dad looks the worst I’ve seen him, and I realize that a small part of me will be happy for him to go, just so he doesn’t have to suffer any longer. I just stand there and watch him struggle for a breath for a few minutes, thinking of how everyone I’m surrounded by, my father included, spent their lives trying to accumulate more and more wealth. And while it might buy you the best health care and allow you access to the world’s foremost experts, when it comes down to it, you could have all the money in the world, but it doesn’t make a difference if your time has come.
I step forward and sit on the bed, resting back against the headboard like I do on my daily visits. I don’t know if my father can even hear me or respond anymore.
“Papi, I’m going to miss you. I wish you weren’t leaving us, but I don’t want you to be in pain either. I’ll take care of Mom. I know she’ll never really get over your loss, neither of us will, but I’ll do what I can to make sure she’s as happy as she can be.”
He doesn’t respond, so I assume this will be a one-sided conversation. Still, I don’t want anything left unsaid. I have to believe that he can still hear me.
“I want to thank you for being the best dad ever. I grew up knowing that I was loved. I realize now that not everyone was as fortunate as I was. Thank you for loving me and never making me feel like I had to change who I was to deserve your love. That�
��s the greatest gift you’ve ever given me.”
A lone tear runs down my face, and I swipe it away. He might not be able to see me, but I want him to leave this world knowing I’m strong and will get myself and my mother through this.
“I hope you leave us knowing we loved you the same.”
I reach out and take his hand in mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. His lips part and I suck in a breath. A whisper of sound leaves his lips, but I can’t make out the words.
“Shh, Papi, it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.”
But he tries again, this time a little louder. I still can’t make out the words, so I lean my ear down to his lips and hear a strangled, “Be happy. Live. Promise.”
Tears well in my eyes again, but I will not let them fall. Not now. There will be plenty of time for that later.
I squeeze his hand again. “I promise.” Leaning down, I place a gentle kiss on his forehead and sit back up.
“How about I read to you?” I turn and look over at the nightstand. There’s a pile of business magazines and newspapers I haven’t been able to read to him over the past few days, so I pick up the one on top and begin reading.
The nurse comes in a few times to try and make my dad more comfortable, even though it’s clear he’s waning. After she leaves for the last time, I whisper to my dad, “It’s okay to stop fighting, Papi. Go in peace knowing you’re loved.”
Then I pick up another newspaper and read more to him.
I keep reading, even when the words blur because I’m fighting back tears. Even when I stop noticing the movement of my father’s chest rising and falling. Even when I hear a gurgling sound and then nothing at all.
I keep reading because I don’t know how long it takes a soul to rise to heaven, but I want it to be my voice that guides my father there.
Eventually my voice grows hoarse and raw and I look down over at my father. His eyes are closed, and though anyone who came in here might think he’s sleeping, he’s actually passed.
It’s him, but somehow, it’s not. He looks almost like a bad photocopy of himself, not the original.
“Te extrañaré, Papi.” The tears drip down my cheeks and I lean over and kiss his forehead, squeezing my eyes shut.
I wish this was a fairy tale and my tears landing on his face would bring him back to life, but this is real life. And in real life, good people die before their time.
Memories of my father and me rush like film slides behind my eyelids, one after the other. The worst part of it is, I’ll never be able to make new ones with him now—my wedding day with Garrin, the birth of his first grandchild, me winning my first case in court, Sunday morning brunches at the country club, along with small mundane things like texting him in the middle of day, or talking about the latest stock he thinks is a winner. All of those moments get buried with him.
My chest feels like a wild lion ripped it open and clawed out my insides. The pain feels physical more than emotional. What will I do without my father? I lay my cheek on his unmoving chest, tears streaming from my face.
42
Chapter Forty-two
Garrin
“Let me run you a bath.” I draw Isla into my chest.
She’s stayed so strong this past week. She was a mess the night her father died, but the past couple of days through the wake and the funeral, she’s been a rock. Amelia is struggling outwardly, though, and Isla is trying to be there for her as much as she can.
“That’d be nice. Thank you.”
I pull away but grip her shoulders, leaning my forehead down to hers. “I know it hurts. And it always will to some degree, but it will get easier with time.”
She doesn’t smile, but at least she isn’t frowning. “I know. You’re proof of that.”
I close my eyes and kiss her forehead. The pain when my mom died is not something that ever left me. It just became a part of me and I learned to carry it around with me.
“You go get undressed and I’ll get the bath going.”
She nods and we walk to the master bath together. I pour the bubble bath I asked Margaret to get for me into the running water while Isla undresses in the bedroom. Once the water is at the right level, I turn to find Isla there waiting.
“Here, I’ll help you in.” I reach out and help her slide into the warm water.
“Will you join me?” she asks.
“Of course.” I slip off my suit and leave it there, crumpled on the bathroom floor, and step into the warm water behind her, opening my legs for her to lean back against me.
We sit in silence for a few minutes while I use my palms to run cups full of warm water over her arms.
“You did an excellent job on your eulogy today.” I kiss her shoulder.
Isla is so brave, and that shined through today as she stood there in front of all those people, recounting her life with her dad. If I can be half the man he was to her, I’ll consider it a success.
“Thanks. I tried to just speak from my heart.” She leans her head on my shoulder. “It was nice of all the Classholes to be there.”
I wasn’t surprised to see them there. We may have our differences from time to time, but we show up for each other when it counts.
“Yeah, at least Asher didn’t show up drunk or high.”
She giggles softly. We’ve had a few discussions about the concern some of us guys have that things are getting out of control with Asher. One of us is going to have to strong-arm him into rehab if things don’t improve.
The only sound is the movement of water as Isla moves her foot back and forth, the tip of her toes peeking out of the bubbles.
It feels like the right time to broach a subject I’ve been hesitant to bring up until now. I’m not sure how Isla will take it, and I wanted to get all the arrangements for her father over before I did.
“I want to talk to you about something.” My hands run along her arms.
Her body stiffens on top of me, and she sits up and faces me. “What is it?”
I draw in a deep breath. “Maybe we should postpone the wedding.”
My words are met with silence as she sits there and stares at me for a moment.
“Do you not want to get married anymore?” she asks in a low voice.
I reach out with one hand and cup her face. “Of course I want to get married. But you’re dealing with the death of your father. Maybe now is not the best time.”
She’s shaking her head before I’m done speaking. “No. We’re still going ahead with the wedding.”
“Sunshine, we’re supposed to have our engagement party next week. Isn’t it too much too soon?”
“I’ve already talked to my mom about it. The engagement party is a go.” She slides to the other side of the tub and rests her back against it, her legs on top of mine.
I don’t even understand why we’re having one when there’s less than a month till the wedding, but according to Amelia, that’s what people do, and if we hadn’t insisted on such a short timeline until our wedding, we wouldn’t have to have the two so close together. Not to mention that Amelia has been nothing but gracious about fast-tracking her only daughter’s wedding, and an engagement party isn’t going to break me.
“I don’t want you to become overwhelmed.” I lean forward and tuck a wet strand of hair that’s stuck to her cheek behind her ear.
“Garrin, I promised my dad that I’d continue to live and be happy after he was gone. I swore. And you make me happy. He’d be so mad at me if we postponed the wedding.”
I exhale and stare at her for a moment. “As long as you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” She leans in and kisses me. “This isn’t you getting cold feet, right?”
“Not in a million years. I wake up every day afraid you’re going to come to your senses.” I slide along the tub to get closer, my hands skimming under the surface to grab her ass and bring it over mine.
Her legs wrap around my waist. Unfortunately, my asshole of a dick decides to get hard having Isla’
s pussy so close.
“I was thinking about the fact that I returned to Cherry Creek for my dad and how if he’d never gotten sick, we wouldn’t have had a chance to reconnect. In a weird sort of way, he’s what brought us together.”
“I wish the outcome were different, but I’ll be forever grateful that he did.” I grip the back of her head and bring my lips to hers.
“Me too,” she says when we end the kiss.
She reaches under her, gripping the base of my cock, rises up and then slides down on top of me with a moan.
Yep, I owe Hector Flores for life.
But I swear I’ll do whatever it takes to make his daughter happy.
As soon as we enter the large event space at the country club, everyone cheers and applauds as if us walking through a doorway is a momentous event.
Isla and myself are holding hands, and though I wouldn’t say she’s excited about the evening ahead, she seems resigned if not cautiously optimistic about having an enjoyable night. It’s obvious she’s doing her best to honor her father’s wishes that she keep living, but underneath it’s clear that she’s struggling.
I nod at the crowd and lift our joined hands, kissing Isla’s knuckles. She gives me a small smile back.
Amelia is the first one to approach us, with tears in her eyes. “You both look great.” She brings Isla in for a hug and then me. “Thank you for giving me something to look forward to,” she says to us both and then looks over at me. “Knowing my daughter has found her person eases some of the pain.”
I hug her again. No one would describe me as an empathetic person, but now that I’ve found Isla, I understand how much her mother must be hurting. I’d lose myself if Isla disappeared from my life.
“Were you able to find out who sent Isla the photograph?” I ask Lincoln. I called and filled him in about it and passed along the envelope to him. I didn’t tell him what the photo was, in keeping with our agreement to leave the others out of the loop.
He shakes his head. “No way to trace it. I even hacked into the courier company’s computer and security tapes to see if I could get a visual on who took it there, but they don’t keep their tapes that long. Whoever it is knew who they were using. The bill of lading showed that they took it there a week before with instructions about which day to deliver it.”