Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Noah
Dad’s eyes open—slow, like he’s surfacing from deep water. Machines beep a steady rhythm around him, oxygen hissing softly through the nasal cannula. His hands feel cold when I take them, but his smile is warm, even if it’s on the weak side.
“There he is,” he says.
“You know, if you wanted to see me, all you had to do is say so. This right here is a bit extreme.”
Dad chuckles—briefly—before his hand covers his chest.
“Hurts, huh?” I ask.
“Meh. I’ve had better days. Expect tomorrow will be worse.”
“Clogged arteries, huh? And all those years of eating healthy.”
He grimaces. “I might’ve strayed a little every now and then.”
Growing up, Dad was always about healthy eating. Admittedly, our interpretation of healthy evolved over the years, but he and Mom were the parents who monitored sugar intake, who went so far as to question Gatorade, forcing me to drink water at sports practices.
“Dad, it happens. You’re still pretty fit.” I mean, he’s got a blanket over him, but judging by the outline of his body and his relatively flat midriff, for a sixty-five-year-old man, he’d pass most people’s fit test.
“Yeah, well, something tells me I’m gonna need you to run interference with Linda on that one. Cause we both know Maya will be worse.”
We both grin—me more than him—and silence falls.
“You scared me, dad.”
It’s true. All I could think of was all the canceled plans and unfulfilled promises. The weekends I didn’t visit. The stilted, tense conversations.
“Hey. Look at me, son.”
I force my gaze up from the thin hospital blanket, from the IV port taped to the back of his hand.
“I understand you’ve got a life. Your mom understood too.”
Emotions detonate in my chest—sudden, brutal. My eyes burn. I search the room for something to focus on: the monitor showing his vitals, the window with its view of the parking garage, anything but the understanding in his eyes. Anything but the unearned forgiveness.
“Maybe it’s good this happened.” Dad’s voice is softer now, fading at the edges.
“What?” I lean forward; certain I misheard. “Dad, you’re out of your mind.”
“Gives me a chance to tell you what I should’ve told you back when your mom died.
Back then, I was too heartbroken. Self-absorbed.
Maybe a little angry. But she understood why you were absent.
You didn’t have a choice. It’s part of life.
Commitments. She wouldn’t have stood for you walking away from responsibility to sit in a room like this one. ”
“I thought she had more time.” If I’d known it could happen fast…
“Don’t. She had complications the docs didn’t anticipate. No one could have. It’s not your fault—any more than it’s mine.”
I cover my dad’s hand with mine. It’s not lost on me that he seems smaller in the bed, older, more frail than the man I know him to be. His eyes close slowly, like his lids are heavy.
“I love you, Dad.” His eyes flicker open wide. “I don’t tell you that enough.” Yes, we have our differences, but none of that matters.
“But I know it,” he says. “And I love you too. I’m proud of you.”
My eyes sting immediately.
“I shouldn’t have pushed you to take over Manny’s auto.” He taps my hand. “That’s something I needed to say. No matter what you do, I’m proud.” Then, gaze to the ceiling, he adds, “Thank you for letting me get that in.”
Dad’s eyelids close and I relax in my chair, watching him. He’s got a lot of drugs in his system, so I expect he’ll sleep. It’s late and while there isn’t a time we have to be out of his room by, I expect we should let him rest.
A soft knock breaks the quiet. The door—left ajar by the last nurse—swings wider, and Linda slips in, Alicia just behind her.
I push up, vacating the chair for Linda, should she wish to sit.
Linda moves past me to the bed, touching Dad’s cheek. “You’ve got visitors,” she murmurs.
Dad’s eyes crack open again—heavy, fluttering—until they focus on Alicia.
And even doped up, as weak as he is, the man smiles.
“Well now,” he rasps, the corner of his mouth tugging higher, “so this is the woman who’s captured my son’s heart.”
Heat sweeps beneath my skin. “Dad—”
Alicia laughs softly, the sound small and gentle in the sterile room. “Sir, it’s very nice to meet you. I just wish it were under better circumstances.”
“Same here,” he says. “But if this is what it takes to get you two in the same room with me, maybe it’s worth the drama.” His gaze slides to me. “She’s special, son. Get your act together. Don’t be stupid.”
“Alright,” I mutter. “He’s definitely high.”
Linda chuckles, smoothing a hand over his blanket. “He’s drifting again. Let’s let him rest. Why don’t you two head back to the house?”
“You’re staying here?” I ask, although I suspected she might.
“I’ll stay. The bench seat folds out to a small bed. When you come back in the morning, I’ll head home for a shower and change. Do you still have your key?”
“Yeah. I do.”
I squeeze Dad’s hand once more before hugging Linda and following Alicia into the hallway. The door closes with a soft click behind us, sealing the quiet.
Alicia stands beside me, arms wrapped lightly around herself. The fluorescent lighting softens against her hair, turning the dark strands warm.
I take her hand—her fingers are cold from the hospital’s low temperature—and lead her toward the elevators. The antiseptic smell finally fades as we move away from the cardiac wing. I blow out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“Sorry about that.”
“Why?” she asks. “He adores you. That was obvious.”
“What he said to you—”
“That I’ve captured your heart?” she finishes, voice soft but steady.
I rub a hand over my jaw. “I just don’t want you to feel pressured. He’s doped up. Sentimental.”
Her eyes lift to mine. Clear. Direct. No flinch. “There’s no place I’d rather be tonight. When the text came in, I didn’t even think. I just…went with you.” She swallows. “Which makes me wonder what we’re doing.”
I tighten my hold on her hand but slow our pace. “Alicia.”
“This is real, isn’t it?” Her voice drops to barely above a whisper, like she’s afraid to say it too loud.
There it is. The question I’ve been carrying in my chest, the one I’ve buried under duty and timing and the certainty that she could do better.
That someone like her—fierce, accomplished, untouchable in so many ways—wouldn’t choose someone like me unless it was circumstance.
Unless it was just proximity and adrenaline.
But the tremor in her voice tells me she’s as uncertain as I am. And somehow that makes it more real.
I look at her for a long moment—this woman who walked into a hospital in another state without hesitating, who held my father’s hand like she’d known him for years.
“It is from my side,” I say quietly.
Her gaze flickers down the hall, toward the life waiting back home, toward the storm she’s standing in the center of. To some, she might be simply looking down the long hospital hall, but I sense she’s seeing beyond the moment.
“Noah…maybe you should wait until the murder charges are dropped before you jump all in.”
That’s her hesitation? She’s not pulling back—she wants to protect me from the fallout. Something in my chest shifts. Of all the reasons I expected her to give, this wasn’t one of them.
I pull her closer, close enough that I can see the exhaustion shadowing her eyes, the tension she’s been holding in her jaw.
“I’m in. No matter what.” My thumb brushes across her knuckles.
“And the case is weak. Whoever’s framing you—whoever’s behind this—they made mistakes.
Jessica’s connection is huge. Our team will tear the rest apart.
I’d bet everything the prosecution drops the charges before this sees the inside of a courtroom. ”
Her eyes trace my face, something fragile and fierce merging there. “You’re not afraid?”
“Hell yeah, I’m scared.” I tighten my grip on her hand. “But not of the outcome of your case.”
She doesn’t move away. She doesn’t retreat. She just stands there, breathing the same thin hospital air I’m breathing, and it feels like something seismic is shifting beneath us.
A nurse walks by, smiling politely, and the spell softens but doesn’t break.
Alicia exhales—slow, deliberate, the way she does when she’s made a decision she’s not going to second-guess.
“So we’ll go back tonight,” she says finally. “Come back in the morning to relieve Linda?”
“I’ll come back and relieve Linda. You should head back in the morning. Stella needs you. And you’ve got enough on your plate.”
“Since everything’s okay, maybe so.” Her voice is quiet, but steady.
We enter the elevator in silence. The doors slide shut, sealing us in that small, fluorescent box.
I keep hold of her hand, my thumb tracing absent circles on her palm.
The numbers descend: 4...3...2... Each floor a reminder that we’re leaving the crisis behind, returning to the world where she’s facing charges and I’m her protection detail.
But in this moment, in this elevator, we’re just two people holding on.
The doors chime open to the lobby, and she speaks again.
“How long do you plan to stay?”
“I’ll stay long enough to make sure he’s settled. Until Maya makes it in. Maya has one more day on this shift then she’s off for four and flying in. Then I’ll meet you in DC.” I take a breath. “I’ll be there before Stella’s play. Even if I’m walking in at the last minute.”
Her lips part. A soft, surprised inhale. “Stella will love that.”
I nod once. “Will you?”
Alicia doesn’t answer right away. She just steps closer, laying her palm against my chest—over my heart—like she’s memorizing the beat.
“I will,” she says finally. “Let’s get out of here so you can get some sleep. Your father needs you sharp tomorrow.”
“And you too,” I return. “You must be exhausted.”
It’s not until later—much later—when we’re curled together in Dad’s guest bed, her back pressed against my chest, my arm wrapped around her waist, that the adrenaline finally drains away.
The ghost of fluorescent light fades from behind my eyelids.
The antiseptic smell is replaced by her shampoo, something floral and clean.
The echo of her words—this is real—settles into my bones with a weight that feels like purpose.
Like home.
Dad was right.
I’d be an idiot to let her go.