Page 57 of The Hero + Vegas = No Regrets

“Sophia. Don’t leave. Just wait.”

I stand still, facing the door.

“I love you. I love the daughter you are. I know you’re upset?—”

“Please, Dad. I don’t want to be the reason for your second heart attack today. Just focus on resting and getting better. There’s plenty of time for this conversation.”

“I hope so,” he mumbles.

No regrets, Worth said to me. That’s what his dad’s death taught him. To live life with no regrets. But wherever I turn, all I can see is regrets. If we talk about it now, the stress could kill him or at least hamper his recovery. If we don’t talk about it now, I’m not sure I’ll be able to bring myself to try again. I don’t know which way to turn.

I release the door handle, head over to the bed, and press a kiss to my father’s cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Dad. Just focus on getting better.” I open the door and pause before turning back to say, “I love you.”

No regrets.

I textWorth my location and ask him to meet me. My head is so full of thoughts, my body so full of emotion, I don’t think I can successfully navigate my way out of the hospital without his help.

“Are you okay?” Mom asks as I shove my phone in my pocket and slump down into the seat next to her.

I shrug.

“I think we should go home,” she says, smoothing her hand over my back like she used to when I was a child. Even before she finishes her sentence, I know I can’t go back home tonight. It will only make my racing thoughts worse. I need space. Distance.

The elevator doors ping and Worth emerges. I let out a breath. Somehow, he makes things less complicated.

“Mom, this is my friend Worth,” I say. “He arranged for me to get here today.”

She looks from me to Worth, then stands and opens her arms to hug him. “Thank you so much. It’s good to meet you.”

“This is Oliver and Noah.” I stand slowly, like all my bones are weary. “Mom, do you mind if I don’t stay at home tonight? I just need a break from thinking about this stuff with Dad.”

“Not at all, sweetheart. Have you got a place to stay?”

We both turn to Worth, and he nods. I shouldn’t have presumed he’d arrange a hotel. But I’m very pleased he has.

“Why don’t you come over for breakfast?” Mom says. “I make great pancakes.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Worth says. “Can we drop you home? I have a car waiting out front.”

“I drove,” she replies. “But thank you. You don’t want these two together in the back seat of a car, like ever,” she says, gesturing to Oliver and Noah.

Mom pulls me in for a hug and I hold her a little tighter. Is this difficult for her?

“Have you two said goodbye to your father?” she asks.

Oliver doesn’t look up from his phone, but he raises his hand. “I did.”

“Actually, Mom, I’ll Uber back. I’m going to stay a little while longer,” Noah says.

She squeezes his hand. “Try and get some sleep.”

Mom grabs her coat and purse, and Oliver finally puts his phone away. We press for the elevator.

When it arrives, we step aside to let a woman out.

She’s about the same age as Mom, but with dark hair. I take in her knee-high boots and dark jeans, and she must feel me looking at her, because she smiles. She tucks her hair behind her ear as she navigates past us.

I stare as she goes down the corridor, checks something on her phone, then reaches for the handle on Dad’s door.

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