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“I’ve been ignoring calls,” I confess, guilt hammering into me.
After Niko failed to call me, I barely left my phone on long enough to see if I missed a call. If Niko couldn’t be bothered to call me, I didn’t want him to send a security team to watch over me. Now it sounds childish, but I did it because every moment without hearing from Niko was slowly killing me. It’s not unusual for my father and I to go without talking for days at a time when he’s in meetings. So, I really thought nothing of it.
My father…
I’ll never hear his voice again. I’ll never feel his arms around me.
Things will never be the same.
“What am I going to do without my dad?” I ask to no one but myself, my heart aching. “I want my daddy.”
I can barely see through my tears, but I feel Vic take shuddering breaths and Callan just stares out the window, jaw clenched as I come unglued.
Nothing is ever going to feel good again. The world has crashed down around me.
I need my daddy.
CHAPTER34
Emilia
My stomach has been constantly churning since we got out of the car. I know we’re at Niko’s home, but I’m not sure why. I thought they would take me to the hospital to see Niko, or maybe home. Home is the last place I want to be. I can’t handle my aunt and the rest of them right now. Eventually, I will ask why Callan didn’t tell my aunt about my father but, for now, it takes too much energy. I’ve stopped crying, but I’ve slipped into this black pit that just leaves me feeling numb.
Vic and Callan flank me—one on each side—as we walk though Niko’s foyer. It seems surreal that I’m in love with a man, engaged to marry him, and he’s never brought me to his home and now… he probably will never be able to. It’s not as if it even matters. I feel dead inside and I don’t imagine that will ever change.
I don’t question the men as they walk me through Niko’s house. They’ve kept me breathing when I thought that would be impossible. I don’t know if I should thank them for that, but I’m too lost to care.
We reach two large arched wooden doors. They’re massive in size, a dark stain on them that is almost black. Vic reaches out to open the door and I have to bite my lip to stop from calling out for him to stop. I don’t know what’s waiting for me on the other side. I don’t even know why we’re here. I just know there’s this trepidation inside of me that builds with every second that ticks by. Suddenly, my legs feel like they might give out. Vic must see my struggle because his hand goes under my elbow, and he loans me some of his strength.
As we walk into the room, I’m still not sure what I see. It’s a large room with a huge mahogany desk in the far corner of the room with two chairs across from it. In the middle of the room there’s a large leather sofa and two matching wing chairs. Seeing it, makes me think this might be Niko’s office. Yet, that can’t be right. Out from that is a bed—a hospital bed—with nurses working around the person in it.
Niko…
Confusion hits me.Why is he home? Shouldn’t he be in a hospital? Couldn’t they put him in his real bedroom?Everything about this feels wrong.
“No,” I croak. They don’t hear me. When was the last time I’ve said anything to them? I come to a complete stop, dread filling me. I look up at Vic and then over at Callan, pleading without words.
“You don’t have to see him, Emilia. We can do this later,” Callan says, and Vic mumbles his agreement.
I shake my head, knowing instantly that I’ve been misunderstood. It’s no wonder, I suppose. My brain is mush. I’m not even sure I know my own name. “I want to be alone with Niko.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then we will be right outside the room,” Callan says.
I nod, knowing I can’t speak again. I just don’t have it in me. They both look like they want to protest but walk out, taking the nurses with them. I’m thankful because all the pain and fear that I’m barely restraining, is threatening to bury me.
I can’t breathe.
The beeps and motorized noises of the monitors and machines hit me. I listen to them before I walk toward the bed. As I look down at him, my mind can’t quite make sense of what I’m seeing. It’s Niko, but it’s not. His coloring is almost gray. His chest is rising but there doesn’t seem to be any life inside warming him. He looks… empty.
I walk over, touching his hand gently. I’m not sure how to hold it without hurting him. There’s an IV in it and it’s the wrist so his hand is taped down on a splint to keep it straight. His normally immaculate hair is mussed. It’s in need of a wash and needs a cut. His beard is haggard and where it normally is cut closer to his face, it has now become shaggy.
“Niko, you need a haircut and a shave,” I whisper. I try to laugh, but it breaks into a sob, and I can’t stop the avalanche of tears that hit me.
I can’t breathe. I find myself leaning over Niko, just to touch him, and cry close to his shoulder. I look at him, trying to fool myself, while trying to pretend that he’s just asleep. I want to believe that any moment he will wake up. He will put his arms around me and tell me that he’s got this. I want Niko to tell me to stop worrying. I want him to make sure these people pay for taking my father away. He doesn’t do that though, so finally, I sit in a chair beside the bed. I decide to just talk to him. That’s all I can do. Maybe it will reach him somehow.
