Page 42 of Exquisite Temptation

She lifts her chin, ordering me in a voice of authority. "Nope, you shouldn’t be alone now. I’m coming with you whether or not you like it."

For a moment, she renders me speechless. Is my little feisty brat trying to top me from the bottom?Now is not the time or place to address her behavior, plus, you know it’s coming from a good place. If the roles were reversed, you would insist on going with her.

"Okay, pet. Let’s go." I exhale a long, inaudible sigh.

Luckily, we brought a change of clothes with us as we planned to stay the night. After throwing on jeans and sweatshirts, we set off in my car.

I trudge over to his bed, staring at his yellow, pasty face and the millions of wires leading to various monitoring machines. The rhythmic hissing sound of the ventilator and his frail body sends sharp pangs through my heart.Don’t give up, Dad. Fight, please. You are the only close family I have left on this godforsaken Earth.Micaela edges closer, taking my hand in hers. If I’m not careful, she will shatter the walls around my heart and steal it.Are you sure she hasn’t done it already?my heart whispers.

"Thank you for being here, pet. I hate hospitals like some people hate spiders or heights. They drag up old memories of me being shackled in a bed with broken bones for months after the car accident…and identifying the charred body of my wife," I whisper, grief crushing my chest. The ache in my soul doesn’t relent, it burns like an inferno, forever reminding me of my losses.

She wraps her arms around me, her body pressing against me, the beating of her heart matching mine in rhythm. Closing my eyes, I breathe in her delicate floral scent and lose myself in her warm embrace, which is like a gentle breeze on a scorching summer day.

"I need to get some air…talk to a doctor-" My voice comes out thick and unsteady. She releases me from her hug and straightens her sweatshirt.

"Sounds good."

As we step outside the room, I spot my stepmother walking towards us. Brianna purses her red lips, darting her unsmiling brown eyes from Micaela to me. Running towards me, she throws her arms around my neck and sobs without tears.

"It’s good to see you, Topher," she breathes heavily in my ear.

I extricate myself from her grip and step back, widening the space between us. The chill between us grows with palatable and frightening intensity. Ignoring it, I tilt my head sideways, introducing the women to each other.

"Nice to meet you, Brianna. I’m so sorry your husband has to go through this." Micaela offers her a sympathetic smile, which Brianna doesn’t return.

"Thank you, Michelle. It just came out of nowhere. One minute we were laughing, the next he fell down on the floor."

I glare at her intently, fighting to shake the growing irritation that bubbles inside me. I’m beyond fed up with her mind games. "Her name is Micaela."

She lifts her chin, waving her hand dismissively. "Do you think I can remember people’s names with everything I have been through today? No offense, Michelle."

My temples throb with anger.One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. And breathe.Micaela touches my arm, slipping on a poker face, but her piercing stare betrays her frustration.

"It’s okay, Ss…Christopher. Brianna is right. If my husband had a heart attack, I’d forget my name." I wrap my arm around her, pulling her closer to me to protect her from the venomous rattlesnake who doesn’t have a compassionate bone in her body.

"Have you spoken to the doctors? What’s the plan?" I grind out through my teeth.

"The doctor said he’s had a major heart attack, and they had to resuscitate him twice, so they put him in a medically induced coma for his body to rest before they operate."

A six foot doctor with short-cropped auburn hair and deep frown lines on his forehead approaches us.

"Hello, my name is Dr. Evans. Are you all Mr. Steele’s family members?"

"I’m his son-" Brianna blows out air loudly, interrupting me.

"I’m Mrs. Steele, his wife. When are you going to wake him up and fix his heart?" She rips out her words impatiently and gesticulates forcefully, making her gold bracelets jingle like bells. Dr. Evans merely stares at her, tongue-tied, before he clears his throat.

"Mrs. Steele, we put your husband in a medically induced coma to minimize injury to the brain. In the first 72 hours, it’s too early to tell the extent of any potential damage to the brain. We will carry additional tests in the next few days." He explains with a calm tone of voice.

Did he say brain injury? I blink slowly, my mind working a hundred miles per hour to process the information. She told me they put him in a coma to let him rest.

"You are going to put me through a few days of this torture." Dr. Evans glances at Brianna then shifts his gaze to me, his expression clouds with unease. He opens his mouth to speak, but the question circling in my mind comes out before he has any chance of replying.

"Are you saying my father might not survive?" My voice sounds stifled and unnatural in my ears. He crushes his brows together, gazing at me with sympathy.

"I’m sorry this is difficult for you, but the prognosis or prediction if your father will survive will be challenging at this stage. It will depend on many factors, but we will do everything in our power to keep him alive." He pauses, giving me an empathetic smile.

In pursuit of preserving life at all costs, doctors inadvertently prolong the suffering of people who clearly have no chance of surviving. Although I don’t want to lose my father, I equally don’t want him to suffer. "Visiting hours are over. I suggest you all go home and rest. We will call you if there are any changes," he advises.

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