Page 35 of Falling for the Wrong Billionaire
I stare out at the water, pretending not to notice. But all I can think about is him.
***
The clinic feels quiet today. Too quiet, like the calm before a storm. The usual bustle of phones ringing and animals barking is muted, replaced by the low hum of the fluorescent lights overhead.
I’m sitting at the front desk, sorting through paperwork, when my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I don’t need to look at it to know who’s calling.
My father.
I hesitate for a moment, my fingers brushing the phone screen before I slide it out of my pocket.
There’s a strange weight in my chest, a tightness that makes it hard to breathe. It’s a feeling I’ve known all too well, and every time he calls, it drags me right back into the past — into a life that feels more like a cage than anything else.
I glance around the clinic. It’s a slow morning, the few patients we have are in the back with Emma, and everyone else is busy with the usual tasks. I slip out of the front office, ducking into a small, quiet storage room in the back. It’s isolated, private. Just enough space to put up the walls I need.
The phone rings again.
"Hello?" I answer, trying to keep my voice steady, despite the knot in my stomach.
"Lucy," my father says, his voice smooth, detached, like we’re having a normal conversation. "How’s everything going? You still enjoying your time there?"
It’s always the same. Always.
I bite my lip, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. "Of course, Dad. Everything’s fine."
I pause, forcing myself to exhale slowly. "I haven’t forgotten our deal. I’ve still got a little over a month left."
His tone shifts, just slightly. I can tell he’s trying to sound more engaged. More like he cares. "I’m glad to hear that. You know how important this is, right? You understand that this whole thing is for the good of the family. Your mother—"
I close my eyes, cutting him off before he can say it. "I know, Dad. You’ve said it a thousand times. But remember, you agreed to give me this time. No pressure. No interruptions."
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. Just long enough to make me question if he’ll even respond.
But then he sighs, the sound heavy. "I just want you to be happy, Lucy. You’ve got a future waiting for you. You can’t run forever."
I swallow, fighting the burn behind my eyes. The familiar ache that’s been there for as long as I can remember. "I’m not running. I just needed this. This time."
His voice softens, but it doesn’t reach me. "I’ll always be here, you know that, right?"
I nod, even though he can’t see me. "Yeah, I know."
But I don’t believe him. Not really.
I change the subject quickly, cutting the conversation short. "I’ve got to get back to work, Dad. I’ll call you later."
I hang up before he can say anything else, my finger pressing the end button harder than necessary.
I sit there for a moment, letting the silence sink in. It’s the same every time. He tries to sound caring, like he’s really here,but I know the truth. The truth is he’s still too caught up in his own grief to see that he’s lost me too — lost us both.
I remember the way things were after my mother passed. I remember how he withdrew, how everything changed in an instant. I remember how I had to grow up fast, how I had to fend for myself because he was too consumed by his own pain to see what I needed.
Tears prick the corners of my eyes, but I won’t let them fall. Not now. Not when I’ve finally started to feel like I can breathe again.
I take a deep breath and push the memory aside, focusing on the present. On the now.
I get up from the small closet, straightening my shoulders as I head back toward the main office.
