Page 2 of Marrying His Brother

By the time the clock hits 5:30PM, my to-do list is only half-checked. Meetings bled into more meetings, followed by a constant stream of follow-ups on the Riviera Army Base disaster.

I’m still managing damage control. My inbox is a mess of complaints, updates, and financial warnings. Every time I think I’ve caught up, something else slips through the cracks.

I rub my temples, exhaustion seeping into my bones, but I can’t afford to slow down. Not yet. Grabbing my coat, I shut my laptop and head out of the office. My phone buzzes with another notification, but I shove it into my bag. I’ll deal with it later.

First, I need to see Dad.

As I pull into the driveway, sadness settles into me. It’s been, what, four months and no change? The doctors tell us that he could wake up any time, but my hope is dwindling.

The second floor has been converted into a hospital suite for my father. It’s hard to accept, even now, months after the stroke. A nurse stays with him 24/7, and yet, I still can’t stop myself from worrying every time I walk through the door.

Inside, the house is quiet, except for the distant sound of the nurse moving around upstairs. I drop my keys on the table and head straight up.

Joan, one of his regular nurses, jumps when I fling the door open and we both laugh.

“How is he today?” I ask her.

“He’s good. Go on in, I’ve just finished turning him.”

“Thanks,” I say and enter the room. The strong smell of antiseptic hits me as I shut the door behind me.

I sit down beside his bed, taking in the familiar sight of him. His face is peaceful, though it’s hard to see him like this, so still, when he was always so full of life.

I take his hand, feeling its warmth, but it’s the stillness that gets me every time. I blink back the sudden tears that fill my eyes. We were told to keep talking to him. That people in a coma can hear what is going on around them.

“I’m getting married, Dad,” I say quietly, squeezing his hand gently. “In six weeks.”

The words bounce back at me.A marriage. To someone I barely know.For reasons that have nothing to do with love.If that doesn’t wake Dad up, nothing will. He’d be livid at what I’m doing.

“I know you’d hate what I’m doing,” I continue, my voice cracking just a little. “But I have to do it, Dad. I’m doing it to save Riviera, to save everything you built.”

My eyes sting, but I blink back the tears. He wouldn’t want to see me cry, wouldn’t want me to feel weak. So I stay strong. “I’ve been fighting to keep things together. I’ve been doing what I can. But without the Bennett deal, the hotels will crumble.”

I lean closer, studying his peaceful face, hoping that his eyes will flutter open, that I might see some reaction. But there’s nothing. Just the soft beep of the machines and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

The silence in the room grows suffocating. I let go of his hand and rub my own palms together. Unable to stare at him any longer, I kiss his dry, soft cheek and leave.

Joan glances up as I walk out, giving me a soft smile. “He’s lucky to have you, you know.”

“Thanks,” is all I can manage, as I head down in search of my mother.

She’s waiting at the foyer as I walk down the stairs. “I saw your car and figured you’d gone to say hello to Dad.” She’s dressed elegantly in a soft blue dress that brings out the color in her eyes, but there’s an aura of sadness around her.

I get to bury myself in work and forget that my father is in a coma but Mom has to live with it day and night.

“I did,” I reply, adjusting the strap of my bag. “He’s the same.”

She nods, stepping outside into the cool evening air. I unlock the car, and we both slide in.

“You look tired,” Mom says gently, fastening her seatbelt.

“Long day.” I start backing out of the driveway. “Issues at the Army Base hotel again. Burst pipes, angry guests, the usual chaos.”

“You’re working too hard,”

I force a smile. “We’re both working too hard. But we do what we have to do.”

She returns the smile, if a little half-heartedly, “Have you heard from Daniel?”

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