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“Princess, I need you to sit down for a second, okay?” he says, worrying me. I look at Sam with wide eyes, and he lifts his brows in question. I shake my head to reassure him, but my heart is racing.
“I’m sitting, Daddy.”
Dad inhales deeply before speaking. “I have end-stage renal disease, Emilia.”
“End-stage renal disease?” I repeat numbly, the words not even registering. Not truly. Not until Sam looks up at me in shock, his expression morphing into horror.
“I… that… kidney failure? That’s what it is, right? Please tell me you’re joking, Dad.”
Sam drops down to his knees beside me and grabs my free hand, offering me all the support he can. I tighten my grip on his hand in an attempt to stop trembling.
“I’m not joking, Emilia. I wish I was, Princess. It’s pretty bad. It’s been a few months, and I’m not sure I can even get a kidney transplant. I hate to ask this of you, but Princess, I really want to see you. Please come home, Emilia.”
I swallow hard and I don’t even realize I’ve started crying until Sam wipes away my tears. “Of course, Daddy. I’ll be home as soon as I can. How long have you known? Why didn’t you ask me to get tested? I should be a match, right? How does that work?”
Dad sighs. “I just want to see you, Princess. I don’t want your kidney, baby girl. I’d never accept, so get that thought right out of your head. I just want to see you.”
I sniff loudly and nod. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
Sam wraps his arms around me and I hold on just long enough for Dad to end the call, and then I let myself fall apart. Sam strokes my hair and holds me tightly, trying his best to console me, but my tears just won’t abate.
“I didn’t even know,” I sob.
Sam tightens his grip on me and presses a kiss to my hair. “You know now, honey. I’ll check with the hospital if I can take some time off, okay?”
I nod and pull away. I see the insecurity in his eyes. He knows just as well as I do that I’ll be away for months. Sam presses a kiss to my forehead. “Everything will be okay, Emilia. Be strong for your Dad, okay?”
Chapter 4
Carter
I walk into John’s dialysis room after a long day at work to find him staring into space, a lost expression on his face. He’s settled in just fine at my house, and he seems to enjoy all the facilities and the staff he now has access to, just like I knew he would. I don’t know why the old man is so damn stubborn. We could have done this months ago.
He looks up at me and smiles. “Carter, my boy,” he says, patting the seat next to his. I walk up to him and sit down, turning on the massage function on both our chairs. I got him top of the line equipment and furniture, since he spends four hours in this room every single day.
“How was your day?” I ask. His expression crumbles, and I regret asking the question immediately.
“Spent half the day hooked up to this,” he says, holding up his arm, the tubes all still connected, his blood flowing in and out.
I sigh, wishing I could do more. John smiles at me and shakes his head as though he knows what I’m thinking.
He straightens in his seat and looks up at me with a serious expression, and I tense automatically. “I told Emilia that I’m sick,” he says, and my heart drops. He rarely mentions her, and every time he does, my heart aches.
I nod at him, but my mind is on Emilia. I wonder how she took the news. The girl I used to know would’ve probably burst into tears the second the words left John’s lips. I hate the idea of her being all by herself over there, especially because it’s all my fault that she’s there, and not here with her father.
“I asked her to come home.”
I freeze and look at him with wide eyes. Emilia hasn’t been back here since the day she left. For years I hoped she’d come back one day, that I’d run into her somewhere, but with every year that passed my hopes died a little more.
“What did she say?” I ask, my voice soft.
John smiles. “She said she’d come home, of course.”
Emilia coming home? I feel nervous at the mere thought of it. I haven’t seen her in years. Will she still smile at me the way she used to or will she treat me like a stranger?
John clears his throat and smiles tightly. “I’d very much like her to stay with me,” he says, his voice soft and pleading. He looks up at me and I know what he’s going to ask me before he even says it.
“Can she stay here with me? Would that be okay with you?”
