His Forever 2-His girlfriend

8

Alisa

This was not how I planned for their meeting to go. Scratch that, I never planned for dad and Drey to ever meet. At least not until I figured exactly where we stood with each other. Yet here we were, standing next to dad's bed as he gave Drey the most scrutinizing look I had ever seen on his face.

While I expected them to have a more civil conversation, this was a big step. A big step. I had never been one to introduce my friends to my dad—like I had any. Ron and I literally grew together so there was no escaping dad knowing about him.

But this was different. Drey was not my childhood friend whom I had just rekindled with after years, he was not my friend from college either. Right now we were not anything more than two people who were once f*****g. I mean it would be easier if I could just say, "hi dad, this is Drey. We were having s*x almost every day and had to end it two months ago and now he's back in my life again making me question every wall I have built around myself." Sadly just like two months ago, there still was no label on our relationship. Now it was probably even worse since I could not use the excuse of him being my boss as a cover.

Drey was not exactly excited with the sudden change of plan, actually, it was the first time I was seeing this man who commanded the attention of every head in the room anything near nervous. I meant to tell him that dad was not going to bite but the look on his face said a lot otherwise. Since I had not yet explained our relationship to dad, I could not slip my arm through his and offer my comfort through my touch either.

Still, Drey was doing a great job keeping his nerves in check. I shrugged inwardly, reminding myself that he was not my boyfriend—never was—and right now I was just introducing an acquaintance to my dad. He was just a man—a dashingly handsome, hot as hell, sexy man who commanded my body and mind with just his presence—but still a man.

Clearing my throat softly, I broke the stretched-out silence, "Drey, meet my dad, Frank and dad, meet Mr. Carlson, my boss." s**t! Why did I just call him that?

I turned just in time to see his strong jaw tick. The small smile on his face revealed a lot even though all he did was stretch out a hand to dad. "Drey. A pleasure to meet you, Frank."

Dad's hand looked weak and frail, filled with a few pale vein lines as he gave Drey a firm handshake. His expression looked unsure. "Drey Carlson? I feel like I have heard that name somewhere before." dad held on to Drey's hand, probably ransacking his now fragile memory. "A magazine or something."

Dad had once come across a magazine that featured all the lies Stella sold out on me. I had come in that day, excited as I usually was to see him, when the nurse informed me how furious he had been when he saw the magazine. I came up with as many explanations as possible to put him at ease only to find him sleeping in when I reached his room. And when he woke up he could only remember he was mad at me, with a vague image of why. For the first time, I was thankful for dad's ailing health leading to his decorating memory these days. As thankful as I felt now. "Well, the Carlson's own a long chain of business all over the country and beyond." I jumped in to explain quickly. At least that was not a lie, "I'm sure you must have heard the name on the news or somewhere."

There was a second's pause while he pondered my explanation and I released an inaudible sigh as he nodded, glad that my story was buyable. "So I get to meet the infamous Drey Carlson. I have heard quite a lot about you."

His eyes drifted back to me for a few seconds, "I wish I can say the same, but I'm hoping a conversation will solve that."

"Well, I don't see any presents." Dad lifted a brow.

"Presents?"

"Ah," dad looked at me in mock apology, "not the smartest cookie in the jar I see."

"Pardon?" Drey asked, looking as lost as I did.

"It's bad manners to visit your girlfriend's dad without a present young man." dad shrugged, "especially the first time."

"Dad!" I cried, white-hot embarrassment flooding my cheeks.

Drey met my eyes for a second before turning back to dad with an amused, "Oh. Well, then I'll be sure to bring lots of presents when Alisa is ready." I did not miss the undertone in his words as he rolled the ball to my court. When I was ready. 

"He's not my boyfriend dad," I said in a low voice, taking a seat next to him on the bed, "he's my boss."

"He was just a friend a few minutes ago." Dad said, leaving me tongue tied as he turned back to Drey who had now taken a seat on the couch, "So I hear you and my baby girl are close."

"Pretty close actually," If I did not know Drey as much as I did, I would have missed the suggestive smirk playing on his lips. "Alisa is my favorite employee."

Dad raised his head to mine, genuine pride bouncing in his eyes as he cupped my cheeks, "Oh my sweet little girl."

Their conversation smoothed out easily as time passed on. Like a slope starting with a nervous introduction and reaching a point where Drey and dad were actually sharing a laugh. Dad was talking about one of my mischievous moments as a kid when I had not yet known the brunt of guilt. He was filled with stories of both my childhood and teenagehood, most of which I had even forgotten. But he told them so well, even I bought the idea that my childhood was not as bad as I thought it was. I was reminded that I always had his love through every tale he told, and seeing Drey laughing, heartily, and full-bodied with no strings underneath made my heart bubble with joy.

The conversation delved further to the first and only time Ron and I attempted to adventurously scale fences in high school—we stayed in the hospital for days—when the most horrific thing stopped us short of our laughter.

One minute the room echoed with amusement the next minute dad was clutching his chest, a stricken look shadowing over his features as he struggled to get a word past his gasps.

Time seemed to stop as he fell back to the bed, the consistent beeping of the monitor blocking out every natural thought.

What's happening?

"Dad..." I whispered, my voice hollow with confusion and despair. My hands were moving on their own, rocking his still body as my mind raced up and down, jumbled and unable to make out anything reasonable.

Someone was yelling in the background, and in a second, people in white coats were rushing into the room. I heard my name being called but could not bring myself to tear my attention away from dad. There was a stethoscope laid on his chest, rushed shouts mixing with the monitor's continuous high-pitched beeps.

Finally, someone pulled me, warm, strong familiar arms bringing me out of the room. I recognized him immediately, his soft warm eyes, offering comfort. But comfort was not what I could afford right now. Dad was in there dying or for all I already knew, dead.

Oh My God, Dad could be dead right now!  

I waited until he had pulled me out of the craziness of doctors and nurses rushing in and out of the room before burying my feet into the ground. Yanking my hand free, I stepped away from him. The one thing I needed right now was someone to blame, someone to put this on because if let myself believe it was all my fault again—which it was—I would not survive it this time.

"This is all your fault!" I yelled, ignoring the glances thrown my way and more importantly the pain and hurt flickering in his eyes. "Just leave. Leave me alone."

"Alisa..." Drey took a step forward but I raised a hand to stop him from coming any closer. I knew too well what one touch from him would do to me. "Please, I'm begging you, just leave."

Without waiting for his response, I pivoted, leaving the hallway on my heels. I struggled to breathe as my legs weaved the hospital, tears streaming down my cheeks. Was I really forbidden from finding any happiness? One moment of peace and then a storm of problems.

My long run brought me to a nurse's closet on the far end wing of the hospital. I opened the door to find a middle-aged nurse holding a basket full of supplies. She scanned my face and I half expected a judgment. But there were no words, just an apologetic smile, and then she walked past me, leaving the room. "You can use it until you feel better." was all she said, before stalking down the hallway. I had a feeling it was not the first time someone would be crying there. 

After locking the door, I lowered to the ground in short breathy sobs, hugging my knees. It felt like a nightmare, a blow I never saw coming. Only this was not a nightmare. It was real. I was really crying my eyes out on the floor of a hospital closet, terrified to my bones that I had already had my last conversation with my father without even knowing it.

I had no idea what was happening with dad, but I knew it was bad, really bad. In all his years here dad had never had a seizure like that. I had never seen him like that and it broke me, God it broke me to shreds.

But whatever it was we will get through it. I could not lose him, I just could not.

***

I was wrong, there was no coming back from this.

"W-what?" I stammered, hoping I had heard wrong.

Sometime between crying, I had fallen asleep. After spending God knows how long in that closet I went back to dad's wing to find an anxious Dr. Leah, desperate to talk to me in her office. I was eager to know how dad was doing so I followed without question, feeling some sense of satisfaction as his chest contracted and retracted with each slow sleepy breath.

Doctor Leah had been kind enough to give a long breakdown of dads' disease, explaining every tad bit of information. That was not needed though, over the last two years I had had it etched in my brain, every single detail about the monster eating my dad from the inside every day. I was patient though, listening through it all, she only did this when she was about to give improving news.

But I was not about to get good news, like 'hey Alisa, odd as that may sound, that seizure was a major improvement for your father. You might be taking him home in a few months."

I tumbled the words in my brain, digesting them only to regurgitate them back again because I refused to accept them. To accept that it had finally come to this.

But there was no stopping it as she made it clearer a second time with the edge of a compassionate doctor giving the one news no family member wanted to hear.

For a second it felt like the world was pulled from under my feet and I was sinking, sinking and sinking with no one to pull me up. Who could anyways?

The gentle feel of her fingers closing over mine shook me back to reality. "I'm so sorry Alisa."

"When did you find out?"

"If this had not happened today, I was still going to tell you before you left the hospital."

"Is there really nothing you can do?" I asked, clinging on to any crumbs to lead the way now.

Regret filled her eyes, "I want to say we will continue researching to find a way to help him. Believe me, Alisa, I really want to help him out of this, but there's nothing we can do at this stage. I am so sorry."

I could have shoved a bag of cotton balls in my mouth and it still would not be so dry. Finally, I summoned the strength to move my legs, getting to my feet. Some fresh air would help to keep me sane right now.

"Alisa," Doctor Leah called as I reached the door. I paused without turning to her, "I know this is shattering news for you right now, but you should know that the earlier we begin with the death plan..."

"Don't!" I cut her short before she would continue. I had seen this happen a few times before to others and my heart was not ready for it yet. "Please...do not. Not right now."

***

The room already had a different look as I stepped into it. How did they do this, time a person and estimate their last days on the earth? And then deliver the news to their family, expecting them to be normal after that. I did not know.

All I did know was that as I watched my dad, his sleeping form nearly swallowed by the bed wild emotions bubbled to the surface, I was nothing close to normal. A sob escaped my chest and I clamped my mouth to hold it in. If I stayed here any longer, I just might wake him up again.

I pulled the sheets over him properly, whispering how much I loved him as I pressed a lingering kiss on his forehead.

I walked out of the hospital, tiredness, and pain seeping through me in a fight for which would pull me down faster. The cool night air dried every fresh tear streaming down.

What am I supposed to do now?

He was right in front of me before the question could be voiced. I had sent him away hours ago—screamed at him to leave even though he was only trying to help—so it was shocking to see him standing here in front of me, holding two takeout bags.

"I brought you dinner," he explained quickly with a smile, "I figured you'd be hungry," His initial smile quickly morphed into a frown as he assessed the look on my face. After crying from mid-day to midnight, I did not even want to look at myself in the mirror.

It didn't matter that I had been a b***h to him earlier, I could not resist the urge pulling at me. I could not do this on my own, could not face this burning reality by myself. It was too much, all too heavy to carry and without thinking, I lurched into his arms, burying my face in his chest.

The bags dropped to the ground just before I felt the warmth of his hands wrapping around my body. There was no question and I knew what that meant, no pressure.

It felt like an eternity as we stood there, the world around us fading to just the sound of his own heart beating and my gentle sobs.

Finally, I found the strength to speak the only words I had been echoing in my heart all day. The words I never wanted to admit, "I'm losing him, Drey. I'm losing him."

"It's okay baby, I'm right here. He'll be fine. We'll get through whatever it is together." while it felt comforting to know he really was here, I knew the truth.

"It's not okay. He's going to die, in only a few months."