Page 180 of The Holiday Clause
“Do you want to see him?”
He nodded but didn’t move.
“The doctor said only two at a time. We can go as soon as your brothers get back.”
The doctor? How had he missed the doctor? “Will you go with me?”
Her hand curled around his. “I’m not leaving your side.”
He planned to hold her to that promise.
She lowered to the seat beside him. “We can wait here until Soren and Logan are done.”
Greyson sat stiffly, elbows on his knees, fingers laced so tight they ached. He stared blankly at the linoleum.
Wren waited, quiet and calm, like gravity holding the room together. She rubbed his back in soothing strokes.
When the double doors opened, Greyson instinctively stood. A female doctor in a white lab coat approached. Mid-fifties. Salt at the temples. Steady eyes. Her badge read Dr. Kim – Neurology.
“Mr. Hawthorne?”
Greyson nodded.
“I’m Dr. Kim. I’ve been overseeing your father’s care since the stroke occurred this afternoon.”
Wren retrieved Logan and Soren from his father’s room. Her hand curled tightly around his as soon as she returned.
The doctor stiffly smiled in a way that brought little comfort. “I’ll start with the good news. Because your father was already admitted for pneumonia, we acted immediately and got his blood pressure down.”
Greyson only comprehended every other word as she explained what happened.
“So it was a stroke?” Soren asked.
“Yes. A mild ischemic stroke. There was a small clot in the right parietal region...”
Tightness cranked around his chest, making every breath harder.
“His heart isn’t pumping efficiently, and we’re seeing signs of progressive organ stress.”
Wren spoke for the first time. “Is there anything more you can do?”
“We can manage symptoms, continue monitoring. But I think it’s time we talk about the broader picture.”
Their words faded as Greyson stepped away.
Standing in the doorway of his father’s room, he listened as machines softly chirped. The silence between each beep hit like thunder.
“I recommend bringing in a palliative care team...”
How was this happening?
This was Magnus, their unshakable father. He was supposed to be eternal. Not weak and alone in some hospital bed.
“I’ll need a signature to move forward. Which one of you is Greyson Hawthorne?”
“Greyson?”
“Grey?”
