2. Elijah
Lying there, a mere shadow of the titan he once was, Dad’s chest heaves like he’s run a goddamn marathon just trying to breathe.
Fucking cancer.
Novalie stands there all worried, eyes wide like a puppy dog. So innocent despite the shit she’s been through.
“Novalie,” my dad says, each word a struggle. “You should wait outside.”
Her eyes, pools of worry, meet mine, searching, begging to stay. Can’t have her seeing Dad like this.
I nod towards the door. “Go wait outside. Please.”
She taps her foot but then nods and scurries out.
I grab a chair and sit beside Dad’s hospital bed. The place reeks of disinfectant and sickness.
“Bran says hi, by the way. He’s doing good. He’s on his way, running a bit late.”
Dad nods, wheezing with the effort. “Good, that’s good.”
I watch his chest rise again, slower this time, as if the very act of breathing is hard. The heart rate monitor beeps steadily in the background. I hate hospitals. It reminds me life can go to shit really fast.
“Son.”
“Right here, Dad.” My hand finds his, skin paper-thin, veins etched deep.
“How are you?”
“Work’s great. Business is expanding.”
“Work isn’t everything. It’s time you found a wife.”
I snort. “Yeah, right, like that’s happening.”
“I’m not asking.” He glares at me. “It’s time you settled down. It’s been long enough, and I won’t always be here…”
“There’s a reason.”
“There’s always a reason not to do something. I’m not getting younger.” His voice is a whisper. “You know my condition...”
“Ask Brandon.”
“Brandon is too preoccupied with his fantasy of a restaurant and…” He nods toward the drawer.
I pull it open. Inside, a photograph of Brandon and Naomi together, their faces lit up with happiness. So he is dating her. Little bro didn’t tell me. Seems like I have to keep closer tabs on him.
“So? Bran can give you grandchildren, and the business will have an heir. Problem solved.”
Dad scowls. “It ain’t about grandkids. I want you taken care of.”
“I can take care of myself. Don’t need a woman for that.”
“Don’t be stubborn. Find a nice girl and marry her.”
“A daughter-in-law for your collection. I’ll get to it tomorrow.”
“Elijah, my boy. It’s not about ticking boxes. It’s your happiness I want.”
Happiness? Where was his happiness after Mom died?
“Yeah, well, you set a stellar example, working nonstop.”
All these countless nights, the empty seat at dinner where he should’ve been, only because he threw himself into the family business with a fervor bordering on obsession. But I know why he did it.
He gave us the life Mom would’ve wanted.
“You gave us everything, Dad. A life we could only dream of,” I say.
“But I lost sight of what matters most. Like you.”
I didn’t lose sight. I’m doing whatever I can, so Bran and Novalie live without worries.
“Learn from me.” He reaches out with a trembling hand. “Don’t let work be your everything.”
“It’s the thing I’m good at.”
“Are you still blaming yourself for what happened with Evelyn?”
Evelyn. I disgust that name. “She isn’t part of this conversation.”
“Elijah.” His tone is firmer now. “Forgive yourself.”
“Nothing to forgive.”
“Son, everyone else has.”
“Then everyone else is mistaken.” My hands form fists on the arms of the chair.
“Nobody blames you. Not me, not Brandon, and certainly not Novalie. Let it go.”
I can’t and won’t, because that’s the only way to prevent it from happening again.
“It’s not that easy.”
“Nothing worth doing ever is. But you’re a Milton. Since when did we stop looking forward?”
“We didn’t.”
“Good.” He sighs. “You will marry. I can force you if I must, but I don’t want to. So don’t deny me this.”
“Can’t you—”
“End of discussion.” His eyes close.
Doesn’t he get it? Love is not on the agenda for me. But I nod. Let him believe I’ll find a way.
“What did the last scans say?” I ask.
The pause is heavy, a leaden shroud that drapes over us both.
“Nothing.”
“You know I will ask the doctors the second I step out of this room.”
“It doesn’t look good.”
It’s the first time he admits to having a bad condition. That means it’s worse. All the talk about me marrying. It makes sense now. I run a hand over my face and lean back in the chair. This whole situation is fucked. Dad’s basically on his deathbed trying to marry me off before he’s gone.
I stand up and lean in to press a kiss on his forehead. “Get some rest, Dad. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
He grabs my wrist with surprising strength. “Don’t forget what we talked about.”
I gently pry his hand off. “I won’t.”
Dad’s eyes search my face, and when he finally nods, I squeeze his shoulder.
“See you tomorrow.”
He settles back against the pillows as I walk to the door. My hand hovers over the handle, and I glance back at him. Still as a corpse, except for the rise and fall of his chest.
With a quiet click, I shut the door behind me.
Novalie is sitting in the waiting area with her head in her hands.
When I get closer, she lifts her head. “Everything okay?”
“Never better.” No use telling truths that cut too deep. “Did the doctors talk with you?”
“No.”
I sigh, rubbing my temple. This whole damn situation gives me a headache.
“Don’t talk to them without me,” I say.
She glances up, eyes glistening.
I grip her shoulders. “If they want to talk, you get me first. Understand?”
Novalie’s lips press into a thin line as she holds my gaze. For a moment, it seems like she’ll refuse. But she finally nods, a reluctant acquiescence to my demand.
I release her and straighten my tie. “I need some air. Stay put until I get back.”
Desperate to get outside, I stride down the hall without waiting for her answer. The cold air hits my face as the automatic doors slide open. I loosen my tie and take a deep breath, but it does nothing to ease the tightness in my chest.
My fingers crave the comforting weight of a cigarette, an old habit I’ve been struggling to kick. Nicotine used to be my crutch for dealing with shit like this. Fucking hell, how did it come to this? Dad lying in that hospital bed…
Footsteps approach.
“How’s he doing?” Brandon asks.
“How do you think?” I take a long drag. “He’s dying.”
He chuckles. “Never were one to sugarcoat things.”
“That’s your job. Making things taste better than they are.”
We stand in silence.
“What happens after?”
“Fuck if I know,” I say.
“To the company, I mean.”
Right. The empire our father built with blood and sweat. His legacy. I’ll protect it with everything I have so that Dad’s sacrifice isn’t in vain.
“It’ll be ours to run. Yours, Novalie’s, and mine.” I flick ash onto the pavement. “Think you can handle it?”
Brandon meets my gaze. “I won’t let him down.”
“What about your restaurant?”
“I make it work.”
I give a humorless chuckle. “Welcome to the family business.”
“The doctor wanted to talk to you.”
I take one last drag before flicking the spent cigarette to the pavement. “Let’s get this over with.”
We head back inside, the antiseptic smell assaulting my nostrils. Fucking hospitals.
The doctor greets us with a solemn nod. Here we go.
“As you know, your father’s condition is deteriorating. The cancer has continued to spread aggressively despite treatment.”
Novalie gasps softly, Brandon clenches his jaw, and I remain impassive as the doctor continues.
“I’m very sorry, but we’ve entered end-of-life care. We’re making him as comfortable as possible, but there’s nothing more we can do. I’d give him half a year at most.”
“Half a year?” Novalie’s voice trembles.
“At most. It could be much sooner. I know this is difficult to hear—”
“Difficult?” Brandon cuts him off. “That’s one fucking way to put it.”
“Bran.” I place a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs it off.
“Don’t bullshit us, Doc. Say it plainly. The old man is on his deathbed. Ain’t no rainbows or silver linings here.”
The doctor clears his throat. “You’re right, Mr. Milton. I’m very sorry we couldn’t do more for your father. We’ll make sure his remaining time is as peaceful as possible.”
I run a hand over my face and sigh. “Thank you, doctor.”
Brandon collapses on a chair while Novalie dabs at her eyes with a tissue.
Dad wants me married? Fine. I’ll get you a daughter-in-law.