Page 55 of Married to the SEAL
She made her way to the edge of the bed. He couldn’t die yet. They had too much unsettled between them, too much to fix in the time they had left, and the possibility that her relationship with her father would never be mended struck Grace in the face.
I should have tried harder to get along with him. He just wanted me to do a good job, do the right thing, be a good person.She wiped at her runny nose. Her father opened his eyes. They were gray and watery and for a minute he didn't seem to realize she was there.
"Hi, Daddy." Her voice cracked and she wished she could stifle these emotions, hide from him just how upset she really was, but that thought only had her crying harder.
"Gracie." He reached for her hand, his grip surprisingly strong.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked. It was the question that had been haunting her since she’d spoken with her father's physician. Her father knew he was ill. He'd known for some time.
"It wasn't important."
"It was important to me. There's so much I need to say to you, and now we don't have much time."
"I'm sorry, honey. For what I said about Nico."
Your bastard child.
His eyes drifted closed. "He's beautiful, my grandson."
Those simple words were the only balm her soul needed, and they washed over her like the highest praise. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you more, and that I haven't been so nice to you since Mom passed away."
"I understood. She was your favorite."
Now Grace was the one hanging on tightly. "No, Daddy. You were. I loved Mom so much, but she was easy to love. I always wanted to be like you."
She watched as tears spilled from his eyes and rolled back into the pillow. She'd never seen him cry, not even when her mother died.
"I know what you're thinking," he said. "I cried for her every night. Just because you didn't see me doesn't mean I didn't love her."
"I know you did." Grace looked at their joined hands and it struck her how time had flown by, taking hers from that of a little girl to a grown woman, and her father’s from a young man to an old one. Each of them had a limited amount of time on this earth to do with what they wanted. Every moment counted.
She was grateful her parents had loved each other. Had each other to share this life with.
Just like I love Matteo.
She covered her mouth with her hand. Hadn’t she known it for quite some time now? Since the first night she’d let him sleep in her bed on the other side of the baby?
They made a little family, and for too long, she’d told herself it was the fantasy she was falling in love with, not the man. But it wasn't true, she could see that now. It was the other way around. She'd been falling in love with the man and the fantasy they’d created. That perfect little family was real if she would let it be.
She just needed her son back and she would have everything she’d ever wanted.
"I need you to do something for me," said her father. "For all of us."
“All of us?” There had only been the two of them for so long.
"I want you to run for the presidency in my place.”
She shook her head frantically. "You're going to be okay. You're going to pull through this."
"Even if that were true, I collapsed on television in front of the nation. I can hide this no longer. It was never my intention to lie. I just had to make sure the bad guy didn't win. I did what I did to protect this country."
"I know you did."
"But now I can't do it any longer. It's up to you." He looked at her pointedly.
"I'm not a politician. I don't have the experience—"
"The people love you, perhaps even more than me. You are well versed in the topics required of the presidency, pruned for this since you were a little girl discussing politics over breakfast. You have watched me do this job, helped me do this job, and you are ready to do it yourself now."
