Page 98 of Control Us (Next Generation 1)

“Yes, Moonbeam. It’s real for me. It’s very fucking real.” He grabbed my hands and kissed my fingertips. “We have to talk but I promise you, this is very real.”

He kissed my knuckles and pulled away from me just as Brogan came out of the waiting room. He hooked an arm around her shoulders, and they walked down the hall with Doctor Silvaggio.

“Luna.”

I stiffened, turning slowly to greet the judgmental eyes of my father but he just looked at me with a furrowed brow instead. “What?”

“Nothing.” He pulled me in for a hug. “I’m going to head home and fill your mom in on the good news.”

“Okay,” I said, thankful that he didn’t say anything about Zach and I.

Dad squeezed me one last time before pulling away. “You’ll be fine here by yourself?”

“Yup. I have my phone. I can read and play games while I wait.”

He nodded. “Be safe,Piccola.”

Knowing my father was only keeping his opinions to himself because it wasn’t the right time, I had to wonder what would happen when he finally revealed exactly how he felt.

Zach

WITH MY MOM’S ARMhooked in mine, we walked with Doctor Silvaggio to the room my dad was staying in. A heavy weight had lifted off of my shoulders when the doctor said that he would be fine. My mom was strong, but I knew that if she lost her husband, it would break her.

“He’s in here,” Doctor Silvaggio said, stopping in front of a door. “I’ll give you some time alone, but he needs his rest. There’s a cot beside him for you, Mrs. Porter. He already said that he wasn’t spending the night if you couldn’t be with him.”

Mom laughed lightly. “Yeah. He won’t even let me sleep on the couch when I’m sick and hacking up a lung. He said that we’re married, so we sleep together even when we’re sick.” She sighed. “He’s a stubborn man, that husband of mine.”

Doctor Silvaggio only smiled and headed back down the hall we just came from.

“Ready?” I asked Mom, unlinking our arms and taking her hand instead.

“Definitely.” She led the way with me following behind her but kept her hand in mine. As soon as we entered the room, Dad looked our way. He held out his arms, his eyes locking on his wife.

She released me and ran to her husband. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” she cried, crashing into him.

He grunted, wrapping his arms around her small frame. “I’m sorry, little one.”

“You scared the shit out of me.” She sobbed into the crook of his neck.

“I know.” He murmured something else to her that only she could hear.

Her shaking body relaxed but she continued to softly cry. “Don’t do that again.” She released him and sat on the edge of the bed. “You hear me, Porter?”

Dad nodded, cupping her face. “I hear you.”

I waited at the edge of his bed, not wanting to interrupt their moment.

Dad reached his hand out, meeting my gaze.

I joined them, sitting on the opposite side of him and taking his hand. I placed my palms up in his, like we had done when I was a boy.

“Son,” he said, his voice gruff.

I swallowed hard, the lump thick in my throat.

“Look at me,” he demanded softly.

Mom sniffed.

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