Page 64 of Royal Beast
He shakes his head, the movement weak but insistent. “Please, Darcy. I need to know you forgive me.”
I press my lips together, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I do,” I whisper. “I forgive you. You loved me, even if you didn’t always show it the right way. And that’s what matters.”
His grip on my hand tightens, and for the first time, I see tears glistening in his eyes. “You’re a good daughter, Darcy. Better than I deserved.”
A sob escapes me, and I lower my head, resting it against his hand. “I should have been here sooner,” I admit, my voice breaking. “I should have been there for you.”
“You’re here now,” he murmurs, his voice soft and steady despite its weakness. “That’s enough.”
The doctor enters with a soft knock, his expression solemn. He’s a young man in his mid-thirties, his eyes kind but distant as he approaches the bed. Max gives him a small nod of acknowledgment, and I watch as the doctor pulls up a chair and sits across from me.
“Ms. Flynn,” the doctor begins, his tone gentle.
“It’s Mrs. Brannagan,” I correct him automatically.
“Mrs. Brannagan,” he amends. “I’m Dr. Milton. So, I’m afraid the prognosis is not good. Your father has been deterioratingrapidly. Based on his current condition, we estimate he has a few weeks left, at best.”
The words hang there between us, drawing the breath from my lungs. I glance at my father, his face pale, his eyes sunken, but he meets my gaze with a resigned expression.
Max gives a slight nod, his voice rasping when he speaks. “I’m sorry, Darcy,” he whispers, his hand squeezing mine with what little strength he has. “I wish I could’ve done more for you. Given you everything you deserved. But I know it’s too late for that.”
My chest tightens, but I swallow down the lump in my throat, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “It’s fine, Dad. You did the best you could. I don’t hold it against you.”
The doctor watches us quietly, his presence almost a distant hum as I continue to hold my father’s hand, both of us sinking into the quiet, a shared understanding passing between us.
Max’s eyes drift closed for a moment, his breathing shallow. “You’ve been a good daughter, Darcy. I know I wasn’t the father you deserved, but you were the daughter I didn’t deserve, and I’m thankful for everything you’ve done to look out for me.”
“I love you, Dad,” I say, my voice breaking as tears well up in my eyes.
“I love you too,” he whispers, barely audible. He closes his eyes, and a nurse comes in to take his vitals. I step out of the room to give him some privacy and take a moment to gather myself, reaching into my purse to call Kellan. After updating him on the situation, he reassures me that Rose is fine.
As we continue talking, my mind drifts back to the distance I kept between Max and myself over the past few months. There was so much I could have done if I hadn’t been selfishly thinking of my own worries, my own stress. I could have been there. I could have tried harder to fix things before they got so broken. The regret stings deeply.
Even so, what could I have done? I had my own life. I had to look after my daughter. All I can do is be here for him in the time he has left, even if it doesn’t feel like enough.
“I’ll come back home soon,” I say to Kellan, cutting off the swirl of thoughts threatening to overwhelm me. “I need to get back to him.”
“Take your time,” Kellan replies. “We’ll be here when you’re ready.”
I return to Max’s room, my footsteps slower now, my mind heavy with everything I’m carrying. Max is awake when I walk in, his eyes focused on me as I sit back down beside him. He’s quieter now, his breathing a little more labored, but his gaze is sharp.
“Darcy,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been thinking about you and Kellan.”
I freeze, my stomach dropping. The last thing I want is to talk about Kellan right now, but I can’t avoid it. Not with Max. Not with the way his eyes are searching mine.
“You married him,” he continues, his voice hoarse. “Was that what you wanted, or were you trying to save me again? Trying to fix everything like you always do?”
I swallow hard, unsure of how to answer. I hadn’t expected this conversation, hadn’t anticipated that Max, even in his weakened state, would have the clarity to ask such questions. But he does. And now I’m left trying to find the words to explain myself, even though I’m not entirely sure myself.
“I…” I stumble over my words, unsure of how to put it all into perspective. How do I explain my choices, all the things that have happened between us? How do I explain that even though I married him to save my dad, I’ve been developing feelings for him? I’m not even sure what’s going on between us myself yet, and I don’t know how I could explain that to someone else.
“It’s complicated, Dad.”
Max studies me intently, his expression hardening. “It’s because of me, isn’t it? You’re trapped with him because of everything that happened with me, because of my damned debts. It was foolish of me to think you wouldn’t get dragged into this like you always do. I should never have let things get this bad.”
“No.” I shake my head quickly. “It’s not like that. I promise I didn’t marry him because of you. I didn’t marry him to fix anything.”
But Max doesn’t seem convinced. He frowns, his gaze searching mine, trying to see whether I’m telling the truth, if I’m lying to him, or, worse, lying to myself.
