Page 134 of Rebel Romeo

He gasps, pulling in a breath as he sits upright again. As he pulls the hankie from his mouth, it’s covered in rich, scarlet blood.

The scarlet blood dripping from the corner of his mouth is highlighted against his ashen gray face.

“Daddy?” I whisper, kneeling at his side.

With wide eyes, he cups my jaw and whispers. “Sprout.”

Then with one final gulp of breath, my father collapses.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

In the waiting room of the hospital, I pace, biting my nails and chipping off the manicure I’d so carefully gotten for preview night tonight.

“I could use a coffee,” Mom says, pushing to her feet and kicking over several of the FAO Schwartz bags at her feet. “Would you like a coffee? I’ll get you a coffee.”

I nod, knowing that coffee is my mother’s love language. She shuffles down the hall and hits the button on the elevator.

We’ve been waiting for two hours while my dad went in for emergency surgery for the pulmonary embolism.

Alone in the waiting room, I pull out my phone and find multiple messages from Holden. I had called him, McCay, and Maggie once we got here and have been updating them with whether or not I was going to make it tonight.

Considering it’s seven p.m. now and Dad isn’t out of surgery yet? I’m going to guess the show is not in the cards tonight. At least not for me.

But for all the things I’ve missed with my parents, I can’t leave them here now. I owe it to them—to my mom and dad and even Mallory—to be here for them.

I should be standing on the Broadway stage doing a sound check right now. I should be centering myself. I should be about to enter Broadway history tonight.

Instead, I’m in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt that’s dotted with my dad’s blood in a hospital waiting room, biting my nails to the cuticle, terrified this visit with my dad might have been our last.

I open my text thread with Holden to find several messages.

Holden:

Be with your parents. We’ll figure something out for tonight.

Kate:

What if missing preview night costs me my chance?

Holden:

Trust me, I’ve got you covered. This is not your last preview opening, I am certain of that.

The next text is from McCay:

McCay:

I don’t care what Holden has told you. Addison is too sick to go on tonight. If you don’t get your ass down here, don’t bother coming back tomorrow.

I grit my teeth together. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have the power to fire me. The union would fight that for me. That’s what understudies are for. That’s why we’re supposed to have swings in place. It’s not my fault that the production team rushed us forward into previews before we were ready.

“Ms. Harris?”

I look up in time to see a doctor standing in the doorway, his white hair disheveled in a manner that told me he’d probably been working a double shift.

“Yes.” I shove my phone back into my purse and stand.

“Your father is out of surgery and awake. I’ll take you back.”

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