Page 38 of My Damaged Protector

And next came the tales of my childhood after dinner. I wouldn't exactly say it was entirely terrible, but I'm sure I could easily live without them.

Then the constant coughing, each one accompanied by blood in small or large quantities.

All it took was a few minutes of watching him spit into his handkerchief before I bailed, not caring about the look my aunt was giving me.

I needed time to think, and the only person I could think of going to was Ian. A lot good that did me, huh?

Sighing, I roll in my bed and try to shut off my brain from the unnecessary activity it's currently engaging in. It only lasts for a minute before another thought trickles in.

Maybe I should write.

I push off the bed and go to pick up my laptop. I grab a cup of coffee while I’m at it. I'm unable to sleep, so why not?

But it doesn't work.

Every creative word I try to force out just makes my head ache.

Crap. It's moments like this that I wish I had coping vices, but unfortunately, I have none. Or maybe fortunately. Who knows if I'd be able to save my father if I did?

My father?

That word feels strange even though it's in my head.

And have I decided that I'm going to save him?

Can I really step aside and let him die when there's a chance that I can help him?

He said they'll only need my bone marrow, but I've never engaged in any form of surgery before, and the things I'm reading online are not any help.

Apparently, bone marrow surgeries are largely safe, but a couple of people have developed complications in the past. What if I am unlucky, too?

What if I die?

What will happen to Olivia?

I can't do this.

Breathe..

I heed the voice of my inner mind and then continue my research. I find some assuring content, but my mind is still not at peace.

I decide to call Amanda, my doctor friend from New Jersey. We attended the same college.

She picks up on the third ring even though it's very early in the morning.

“Mandy, hey.”

“Sarah?” Her voice becomes clear. From the sound in her background, I can tell she's at the hospital.

“Yeah, it's me. How are you?”

“I'm good! It's been a while. How are you?”

I smile at the excitement in her voice. She and I weren't that close back in college, but we shared a room together. There werefour of us in our dorm back then, and we're all successful ladies now. Too bad we don't keep in touch much.

“I'm alright. Sorry for calling so late.”

“Nonsense. I've been thinking of reaching out too, lately, but work has been hectic. Why are you calling so late, though? Is everything okay?”

---