Page 5 of A Chance for Us
“I can’t wait to see you.” I leave off the other person intentionally.
“Same.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask, sensing a hesitation in him.
Daddy sighs, which sends him into a coughing fit. After a few seconds, he gets it under control and he clears his throat. “Today we got some news.”
“Oh?” I sit up straighter, pulling my chair in closer to my desk.
“The doctors said there’s not much more we can do.”
My throat goes dry, but I push the words out. “I don’t understand. I thought the treatment was working.”
“I wish that were the case, Princess, but it’s not.”
My mind immediately starts to go through scenarios and options. “Then we find another doctor. We can . . . we can go to that specialist in New York who is having a lot of success with a new combination of chemo.”
“Maren . . .”
I shake my head, not wanting to listen to whatever he’s going to say. “I read about it online and it seems promising. Or maybe you just take a break for a month or so . . .”
“Maren, stop. It’s been years and years of fighting, and I’m tired.”
I know he is. God, I know he’s exhausted and has been at this for longer than I ever would’ve been, but I’m selfish and want my father. I need my daddy, but right now, my daddy needs me not to fall apart.
So, I stay silent, not trusting my voice.
“I’m just so tired, and when the treatment was working, it was worth it, you know?”
I nod.
“I wish it weren’t the case, but it’s time. It’s time to let go and live out the rest of my time.”
I want to wail, to scream at him to keep fighting, but I won’t do that to him. I can see the pain and fear in his eyes. “I hate this,” I say.
“Me too. The doctors say it won’t be long, and I meet with the hospice team tomorrow.”
That is a word I hoped never to hear. It was a silly hope, one that I was aware would never be fulfilled, but still, a girl can dream.
I had dreams of him being a grandpa and loving my kids, taking them horseback riding or teaching them how to build things. I wanted that for him as much as for myself. Now, that time won’t ever come to pass.
Whatever time he does have left, I want to spend as much of it with him as I can. “Why don’t we cancel the wedding, Daddy? Oliver and I can come down to Georgia and be with you.”
My father’s face turns red. “Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“Because . . . you will not give up your wedding because of this.”
“It’s fine, Daddy. We can wait.”
“No, it’s not. You have no idea what this means to me. To be there, at your wedding. To know that you’ll be loved and that you found the man you want to spend your life with.”
I do know. He told me that exact thing a few months ago. I cried so hard that night, knowing that I might never give him that peace.
Thankfully, Oliver understood, and he proposed a week after that call.
“But you’re sick and you need to be home where you can rest.”
