Page 19 of Angel's Fantasy

Kimbella

The morning had beena complete blur. From the moment I got the phone call telling me about my dad to the fast and frantic drive to the hospital to the frustratingly long wait while he was in surgery, there had only been one thought running non-stop through my mind.

Please, God, let him be okay. Please don’t take him from me. He’s all I have left.

Angel had been… well, an Angel. He’d driven me there, walked me into the waiting room, and then hadn’t left my side until the doctor had finally come out to tell me my dad had made it through the surgery and was in the recovery room.

Angel had left then, knowing—just like he always seemed to—that I needed the time alone with my dad. It had been just another one of the tiny little favors he’d done for me over the past few weeks, and just like with the other things—giving me a safe space, a quiet place to study, not asking for anything I didn’t want to give, driving me to the hospital, and now, leaving before I could even ask—he hadn’t asked for or expected anything in return.

I’d be eternally grateful for all of those things, but I didn’t even know how to begin to thank him.

Most of all, I was thankful for what he’d said right before he left.

“You’re free to go, my Bella. Not just for right now, but later, when you leave here. You need to be home, where your dad is. Where your heart is.”

And now, as I held my dad’s warm but nearly lifeless hand and watched the slow rise and fall of his chest as the machines he was hooked up to beeped and flashed, I could feel the tears start to fall again.

After my mom died, I swore I’d never take for granted how quickly life could change, or how everything I knew and loved could be taken away in the blink of an eye.

But here I was, regretting that I hadn’t been with my dad when he’d needed me, knowing just how close I’d come to never seeing him again.

“You should go get some rest.” The sweet, quiet voice behind me made me jump and I quickly wiped my face with the back of my hand as I turned to see one of the nurses I’d spoken with earlier standing in the doorway.

“No,” I said, flatly. “I need to stay. I need to be here when he wakes up.”

She nodded and smiled, her eyes full of sympathy. “It might be hours before he wakes up, sweetie. And even then, he might only be awake for a few minutes at a time. He’s going to be on some pretty powerful pain medication.”

“I understand,” I said, looking down and gently squeezing my dad’s hand. “But I’m not going anywhere until he wakes up.”

She sighed lightly but thankfully didn’t argue. “I’ll bring you a chair, then. You can stay with him here in recovery until we have a room ready for him, and then you can go with him there.”

“Thank you,” I said, blinking hard to keep the fresh round of tears from spilling over. “I appreciate that.”

I turned my attention back to my dad and forced a smile onto my face. When he did finally wake up, I wanted him to see me happy, and that meant I’d need to get it together.

The tears could wait until later, until I was alone again.

For now, all I could do was wait and pray.

And just keep smiling.

* * *

The nurse had been right.It had taken hours—five hours, to be exact—for my dad to wake up.

But the look on his face when he saw me there, still holding his hand as I sat there fighting the urge to drift off to sleep, had been more than worth the wait. More than worth the uncertainty and the tears and the seemingly endless hours of sitting in uncomfortable hospital chairs.

“Kimbella,” my dad’s voice was strained and sounded more weak than I’d ever heard him. “You shouldn’t be here… Angel won’t like—”

“Shh, Daddy,” I shook my head, still smiling at him even though I was worried and afraid. “He brought me here. And he’s letting me come home, so don’t worry about that anymore. As soon as you’re feeling better, we’ll both be back home together.”

“That’ll be nice,” he said, patting my hand as his eyes fluttered closed again. “I’m so tired, Kimbella.”

The nurse had told me he’d be exhausted, but I hadn’t really anticipated how taxing it would be for him to sit and talk for just a few seconds. I didn’t like seeing him so weak and frail. All my life, for all the mistakes he’d made along the way, he’d been my rock—the one person I could count on to always be there no matter how crazy everything else got.

Now, though, I was starting to realize that he was still human, just a man, and one of these days he wouldn’t be around anymore.

“Just rest, Daddy,” I said. “I’ll make sure everything is clean and nice at home when you’re ready to get out of here.”

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