Page 19 of Dare to Need

The last ounce of control I had completely shattered as a sob broke through my chest and out of my dry throat. Because at that moment, I’d forgotten about all the fights. His constant ploys to get me to take over the business didn’t matter. The guilt I felt for turning him down time and time again was a shadow compared to the relief and gratitude that swarmed my body.

He was alive. And that was the only thing that mattered.

ChapterEight

It didn’t take long for one of the nurses to come into his room, making sure that he was comfortable and to check on his vitals. Garrett was on the left side of his bed and I was on the right with our mother at the foot of the bed. All of us hovered over him like a helicopter parent, making sure that if anything went poorly, we’d be there to catch him.

An entire thirty minutes had passed since I first walked into his room and I couldn’t, for the life of me, remember a time when all of us had spent more than fifteen minutes together before an argument broke out.

Not this time, though.

It was still difficult for him to speak through the dryness of his throat, but my father kept things light, trying to lift the spirits of the room.

“And who is this pretty lady?” he croaked out as his gaze shifted to the open doorway the nurse just walked out of.

As I turned to see who he was referring to, my chest swelled at the sight of Eva. She was a ray of hopeful light that beamed into the room. A reminder that I could do better because she had chosen me as her partner. Eva was the most selfless person I’d ever known, having given up so much of herself for her friends and ex-boyfriend. I was still trying to learn how to be a better person in that way and she was the best teacher to learn from.

“Is it okay if I come in?” Eva asked.

“Of course it is, sweetheart.” My mother gestured for her to come in the room as she took a step forward.

I strode up to her, still with shaky knees, and took the cartridge of coffee cups from her. After setting them on the table, I pulled her in close and walked her over to the bed.

“Dad, this is Eva. I know you two haven’t had a chance to meet yet since you’ve been so busy with work. But I’m glad you can finally meet her.” I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, taking a quick breath in of the sweet lilac that always floated around her.

Eva placed her hand on my father’s and squeezed it. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Walker.”

With his other hand, he reached over and patted hers. “My wife tells me you’ve made quite an impression on our boy here.” His southern accent carried through the room.

Eva smiled and said, “Well that’s sweet of her to say, but I have to tell you thathe’sthe one who’s made the best impression.”

I tried to recall the last time I saw my father smile—truly smile, where all his teeth beamed and the crow’s feet at his eyes bunched together. It had to have been sometime during my childhood. Before everything got...complicated. But as he looked at Eva and heard her unwarranted praise of me, the smile that broke across his face touched my soul in a way that broke my heart wide open, knowing that I didn’t deserve it.

His smile made me think of the time when he bought his first investment property and he rode me and my grandfather around it in his old pickup truck. He was so proud of that property because it symbolized the start of his success—that he was going to make it.

Growing up, I would stay up late listening to him and my mother talk in the living room. I always left my door cracked open so I could fall asleep listening to their voices. They spoke of their dreams and how far they wanted to go in life. Making a successful life was more than freedom from the poverty they grew up in. It meant that everything they went through in their childhoods wasn’t in vain. That, for generations to come, they both would make the lives of their children and grandchildren easier than their own lives had been.

Back then, driving on that property, we were happy. There was nothing to complicate our father-son relationship. I was just a boy who was insanely proud of his dad and he was just a man who wanted all of our futures to be a little brighter.

Then, I fucked everything up.

That all-consuming guilt I’d felt on the plane was starting to crawl its way back into my mind.

Yes, my father was alive and he was right in front of me meeting the love of my life with a smile on his face that I hadn’t seen in years. But it wasn’t lost on me that it had only been hours ago that he was unconscious, his life hanging on by a thread. The extra stress I’d put him under by rebelling so hard wasn’t good for his heart. Not to mention that if I had taken over the company, he wouldn’t even be here right now. He would probably be on some tropical island, relaxing with his beloved wife and reaping the reward of all his hard work and sacrifice.

Instead, he was bound to a hospital bed. Unable to speak without his voice cracking because his body was so weak.

There was no holding back the anguish that gripped my heart like a vise. Not as fresh tears clouded my vision and my hands started to shake again.

I had to do something to amend the situation—anything to make up for the pain I’d caused our family.

Through the haze of my tears, I could see my father and Eva turn their attention on me. My father’s gaze darted around the room, his puffy tired eyes meeting everyone else’s.

“Would, uh, anyone mind if Garth and I could have a few minutes alone?”

My stomach dropped at his words, knowing very well what was about to happen when it was just him and me alone in the room. We would both resort to our old ways and a fight would ensue.

“Of course, honey.” I could hear my mother shuffling toward the bed as she gathered her purse from the tray table. “Eva, Garrett, why don’t we go down and try to find a nice restaurant we can order food from.”

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