Page 8 of Break My Rules

“Could’ve, would’ve,” my father waves away the concern. “It’ll take more than that to see me off. And remind me to give Tricia a raise,” he adds, jocular. “I thought she’d need the defibrillators herself, the look on the poor woman’s face.”

“Darling, you need to take this seriously,” my mother chides him.

“I do.” My father meets my eyes across the room. “Lillian, why don’t you go see if you can find me something to eat?” he asks suddenly. “And Robert, you hunt down that doctor, so he can explain everything to your brother.”

Robert looks back and forth between us, then nods. “Come on, mother,” he says, steering her to the door. “Let’s see if they’ll make you a cup of tea, to settle your nerves.”

“It’ll take more than tea to do that,” she says, thin-lipped, but she follows him out, leaving my father and me alone.

I move closer to the bed. “How do you feel, really?” I ask quietly, taking note of the slight tremor in his hand when he reaches for the plastic cup of ice water on the table beside him. I pick it up and hand it to him, and he takes a slow sip.

“I’ve been better,” he replies, relaxing back into the pillows with a sigh. “But it’s not all bad. I’ve been thinking about taking a holiday from the office. A little gardening leave, as they call it.”

“There are easier ways to get it,” I play along with him, even though I’m unnerved by his tone. My father isn’t a man to joke, especially not with me. The fact that he’s doing it now tells me that this is more serious than he’s letting on.

“Perhaps I’ll take up bridge, your mother’s always telling me to get a hobby,” my father continues. “Or maybe lawn bowls. It’s a shame you boys haven’t given me grandchildren yet, they would certainly keep me busy.”

“What happened to all those lectures about keeping it zipped?” I ask lightly. “I thought you said the world was full of gold diggers just waiting to pounce on the St. Clair family bloodlines.”

My father laughs softly, but it’s swallowed by a hacking cough. He takes another sip of water, settling. “Times change, son,” he says, his voice a little shaky. “And moments like this… Well, it makes a man think about the future. What’s left behind, after he’s gone.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” I say immediately, more unnerved than ever. “You’re barely sixty-five. Plenty of time for you to have a bushel more kids, if you want them.”

“I’m not sure how your mother would feel about that,” my father says with a faint smile.

“So, trade her in for a younger model, all your friends are doing it,” I joke—before I remember the hushed conversation I overheard at the Lancaster Media party, a few weeks ago. I accidentally stumbled across my father talking with a younger French woman in a heated, intimate-looking exchange. I couldn’t hear exactly what they were arguing about, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out.

I clear my throat, and quickly change the subject. My father’s affairs are none of my business. “How long do the doctors say they’re keeping you here?”

“Another few days, for observation. My blood pressure’s still high, and they say I need to make changes to avoid another incident.”

“What kind of changes?” I ask.

“You know, diet, health, lower my daily stress,” my father rolls his eyes. “Tricia will make me eat a few salads, and I’m sure everything will be fine.”

I’m not so certain, but I don’t press him on it. He lets out a yawn, and I get up from beside the bed. “It’s late. You should rest,” I tell him, still shaken by the change in him. “I’ll go talk to your doctors.”

He nods, already sleepy. “Thanks for coming, son.”

“Of course,” I murmur. “Sleep tight.”

I leave his room, feeling thrown and off-balance. My father and I may not have the best relationship, things have been tense between us since my older brother, Edward, passed away, ten years ago. Suddenly, the future of the family line rested on my rebellious shoulders—and my parents have made no secret about what a disappointment that is for them. I’ve kept my distance and ignored their lectures about settling down and taking my rightful position as son and heir to the Ashford legacy, the title of duke, the pharmaceutical business, everything.

I’ve wanted no part of it and I’ve been determined to forge my own path in pursuit of pleasure, not responsibility. But seeing my father like this, having to face his mortality…

That legacy feels closer than ever, a dread weight pressing down on me.

Reminding me that I’ll never live up to Edward’s good example.

Reminding me I’ll always be second best.

I’m halfway to the elevators when my mother appears. “Anthony, wait,” she says, cornering me. “Are you leaving already?”

“Just to get a few hours’ sleep,” I tell her, worn out from everything that’s happened today. I’ve been a mess since Tessa disappeared from the party, and I can tell, I’m about to hit the wall. “You should try and get some rest, too,” I add, seeing her tense expression, and the shadows in her eyes. “We can be back here in the morning before he even wakes.”

“Just as long as youdocome back,” Lillian says tightly. “We need to talk to his doctors and figure out a plan. This would never have happened if he wasn’t so stressed from work, you know. The clinical trials, the new product launch… It’s too much for one man to handle, and God knows, your brother tries when he can, but he isn’t mature enough to take the reins.”

I tense. “Are you saying this is my fault?”

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