Page 77 of Reconciling With the Rival

She pinches her brows at me. “Is this a trick? Did you do something to my shampoo?”

I shake my head, not having much fight left in me. She doesn't say a word as she walks into the bathroom, the same skeptical look on her face that’s always there when we don’t fight.

Right before she shuts the door fully, her eyes stare into mine, so many questions in her gaze. She settles on an easy one. “Are you okay?”

I don’t bother answering her before I head back into my room, shut my door, and sigh.

Today is going to suck. I can already feel it in the air. There’s a heavy weight around me, and as the day progresses, it’s only going to get worse.

As my sister andI sit down to order our lunch, a heaviness settles across my chest. I don’t know if Alissa and I are going to be able to help.

“Are you as worried about this as I am?” I ask her.

“Yes. Our father is the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.” She looks over at me. “That must be where you get it from.”

“Hilarious, sis.” But I’m not laughing.

“Leo, come on. Dad will be fine. We just have to ease him into having the surgery. He might be scared. We don’t know what he’s feeling.”

She reaches over and grabs my hand. “It doesn't make sense, Liss.” God, I need a fucking cigarette.

“What?”

“Why doesn't he want the surgery? Doesn't he know how scared we all were last time, thinking he wasn't going to make it?”

My sister only sighs. “I don't know, Leo. But we have to make sure he understands this surgery is a good thing.”

I don’t know if she and I can do that. If none of us can convince him to stay a little longer on Earth, then what can? What is it going to take to convince our father we want him to have a longer life than he will if he keeps pushing this off?

Our salads come, and I’m thankful we’re in the corner of this place, because I don’t know how this conversation is going to go. The two of us start to eat, and about twenty minutes into our meals, the phone rings.

“Are you guys there?”

“We’re here,” I tell her.

“Okay. We just got to the office. The doctor should be in soon. Say hi, William.”

“I still don’t understand why they need to be here for this,” I hear him say. My dad isn't a soft guy. He’s pretty rough around the edges, but he loves us. I think he’s sick of being carted around to appointments when he wants to live his life and go back to work.

He works for a huge business in England. He’s actually why I wanted to get my degree in marketing. My original plan was to work for his company in that department, but I quickly realized working for my father was not something I wanted to do.

And I didn't want to be stuck in England my entire life. It’s a beautiful place, but I wanted to see more, discover more.

My parents are the greatest in the world, and not only have they let Alissa and I forge our own paths in the world, but they’ve been nothing but supportive. Even after my dad had hisfirst heart attack, he still pushed me to come back to the States despite my worries about him.

Truth be told, he hates when people dote on him. He’s stubborn, independent, and usually pretty level-headed. All this medical stuff has thrown him off his axis.

Well, not the stubbornness.

“Dad, how do you feel today?”

“Tired, but I’m fine.”

That’s all you’ll get out of him. Before either of us can say anything, the doctor comes in and starts to talk about the options. This surgery he’s proposing is less invasive, at least that’s what it sounds like. I used to be terrible with all this medical jargon, but I can follow pretty decently after all this time.

Especially after all the research I’ve done on the nights I can’t sleep. The guilt always seems to creep in late at night when I miss them. And that’s when I spiral down the rabbit hole of research to try and see if I can find something to bring to the doctors—to see if I can find something to keep my dad alive.

“How does that sound, William?”

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