Page 67 of Billionaire's Second Chance

Damon

“Excuseme,Ineedto take this,” I whispered to Sandy, looking for a quiet place where I could answer the twentieth call from my sister.

“Hello, Quinn. What's—”

“It’s Dad, Damon,” she cried in my ear.

The following words that escaped her lips rattled my spine. Adrenaline poured through my disoriented body. I wrenched the phone from my ears and felt my pockets for my keys.

“Stay right there, Quinn. I’m coming right now,” I assured her.

“Damon?” Harry poked my arm, appearing behind me.

“I don’t have time to explain, Harry. Tell Sandy to carry on with the shoot. I have an emergency,” I rambled, my steps turning into a jog.

My heart thumped against my ribcage as I swerved through the thick LA traffic. With one hand on the steering wheel, I dialed Jed’s number. He was my father’s doctor.

My dislike for hospitals didn’t matter. I asked every nurse that stood in my way for directions as I drowned in sweat and anxiety. The smell of chalky pills and disinfectant clung to the roof of my mouth.

Quinn was still sobbing when I found her, eyes puffy, shoulders drooped. She grabbed my jacket and buried her face in my chest.

“He just—he just collapsed.” She said through tears.

I held her close and patted her back.

“He was just there—I just—” She sniffled.

“It’s okay, Quinn.” I swiped some fallen hair away from her face, combed my hands through it, then held her by her shoulders.

“What really happened?” I asked calmly.

“Dr. Kyle says it’s a stroke,” my sister whispered, afraid that speaking those words out loud would worsen our father's condition.

A stroke? He had looked so fit the last time I saw him. Maybe even fitter than me.

The seats outside the door were empty. That wasn’t a good sign. Did Mom have a stroke too?

“Where’s Mom?” I looked over Quinn's shoulder.

“They couldn’t get her to leave his side, so they let her stay,” she explained.

Of course.

The door swung open. Dr. Kyle stepped out of the ward. The look on his face was passive, a blank slate. I held Quinn tighter to keep her grounded.

“Great to see you, Damon,” the doctor shook my hand.

“How’s he? Is he going to be OK?" I asked him in haste.

“Your father will be just fine. He’s a born fighter. Luckily, he was brought in before the occlusion became fatal. Come to my office, and I'll give you a full rundown of his health status.”

“Can we go see him now?” Quinn asked.

“Feel free,” Dr. Kyle extended his hand, welcoming us inside the room where my father and mother gazed into each other's eyes.

Quinn let go of my hand and disappeared through the door. I joined her inside. The blinds had been pulled up, exposing an open window. Mom sat beside Dad’s bedside with his hands in hers. She managed a faint smile.

“You’re here,” She stood up to hug me.

---