Page 80 of Whispers in the Dark
She’s breathtaking.
And so goddamn perfect.
A clear reminder that we will never be more than this temporary arrangement.
Chapter nineteen
Alina
“Hi, Ms. Fowler,” Andrea greets me, stepping out from behind the desk with a warm smile. “Your father will certainly be happy to see you. He’s been a bit down these past few days, but I’m certain seeing you will cheer him up.”
I slip my scarf from my neck, my brows furrowing. “He’s been down?” Concern tightens my chest. Especially since I haven’t been here as often as I should have.I’m a terrible daughter.“Has anything changed with his medications?”
Andrea hesitates, then swallows. “They had to make a small adjustment. His insurance no longer covers all of them, so they had to find alternatives.”
I chew on my bottom lip, rubbing my temple. “Of course it doesn’t.”
Supposedly, having health insurance is a good thing. It means you’re taken care of in emergencies or when you’re sick. But more often than not, it feels like a maze designed to exhaust you. Endless calls. Endless paperwork. Fighting tooth and nailjust to get what you need to stay alive. All while costing you your firstborn child in the process.
“I’m sorry,” Andrea starts. “I tried to reason with them, but they wouldn’t listen.”
“It’s not your fault. I understand. I’m sure he just needs time to adjust to them.” I plaster on a faux smile, one that feels extra hard to display. “Where is he?”
“In the library, of course.” She lets out a quiet laugh, her eyes crinkling with warmth.
I start to move, but before I take a step, Andrea speaks.
“I almost forgot. This is for you.” She reaches over the counter and retrieves an envelope. The wordurgentis stamped across the front, causing instant anxiety to sweep over me.
I take it from her, thank her, and head down the hall, turning left as I pass a few doctors and nurses who offer polite smiles in passing. When I reach the large oak doors, I push them open slowly, peeking inside before stepping through. Immediately, I spot him in the rear of the room, his head buried in a book by the fire.
“Hi, Dad,” I say softly as I approach.
He looks up, brows knitting together in confusion at first, but the moment his eyes land on me, his scowl melts away. “Alina.” He drops his book and reaches for me as I lean down and place a kiss on his cheek, his arms wrapping around me. His familiar scent surrounds me, tugging at my heartstrings and reminding me of everything I miss.
“How have you been?” I settle into the chair across from him and place the envelope on the table between us. My eyes drift to the cane propped against the wall beside him.When did he start using that?
He closes his book and rests it on the arm of his chair. “Good days and bad days. So far, I think this one has been good.”
I nod, clinging to that one word.Good.It’s what I want to hear. “Andrea mentioned you’re on new medications.” I pause before asking, “How have you felt?”
He shrugs, looking off to the side. “Does it matter? It’s not like I have a choice. I have to take whatever they give me.”
I shake my head. “You do have a choice. That’s why I’m asking. If these new medications are making you feel worse, then I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back on the old ones.”
He grins, his gaze returning to me. “I appreciate it, sweetheart. But I’m okay. It’s not like, well…” He swallows and stares out the nearest window, observing a red cardinal bouncing from branch to branch. It takes him a moment before he says, “It’s not like I have much time left anyway.”
His words slice through my beating heart.
“Please don’t say that.” The tip of my nose burns, and my throat feels hoarse as I hold back tears. Crying in front of him will make him upset, and I don’t want to do that to him. “You’ve got the best team of doctors at your disposal. I’m certain there will be a breakthrough. Maybe we need to consider trying some of the experimental drugs that they have been suggesting. Or if not those, then—”
“Alina.” His voice is soft and calm. His smile is one of complete understanding.
I can no longer fight the tears that threaten to spill over. “I can’t lose you,” I whisper.
He reaches over, covering my hand with his. “You’ll never lose me. I’ll always be right here.” He points to the center of my chest, directly over my heart, which currently feels too heavy. “But you’re young with so much life left to live. You shouldn’t be spending your days worrying about me or how we’ll afford my healthcare. You should be making a life for yourself.”
I wipe at my eyes. “I’ll always worry about you. You’re my dad. It’s literally what I’m supposed to do.”
