I blink, trying my hardest to ignore the annoying buzzing thatâs slowly taking away my relaxed, dreamlike state. I turn, reaching for my phone absentmindedly, closing my eyes as I lift it to my face.
Iâm tempted to ignore the call, to lock my phone and put it away, but something doesnât feel right. Deep down, I can feel that something is off. My hands tremble as I answer the call and bring my phone to my ear.
âIs this Amara Astor?â
The woman on the phone sounds calm and professional. Far too professional to be calling me in the middle of the night, and her tone just worries me further. âSpeaking,â I say, my voice soft, laced with fear.
âIâm calling from Regency Hospital. Your phone number was saved in Mr. Simmonsâ phone as his emergency contact.â
She pauses, and I swallow hard. âIâm his daughter,â I tell her. âWhat happened to my father?â I sit up, tears welling in my eyes. The sheets fall away, and Noah turns in his sleep, reaching for me.
âYour father is in critical condition, Ms. Astor. The doctor will be able to tell you more.â Thereâs hesitation in her voice, almost like she wishes she didnât have to make this call at all.
âIâll be right there.â
I end the call with shaky hands, feeling sick. Months. Iâve been ignoring him for months, and now I might lose my chance to ever speak to him again.
âWhatâs wrong?â Noah asks, his voice sleepy. He sits up and places his finger underneath my chin, making me face him. âWhat happened, Amara?â
I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him tightly, falling apart in his arms. âItâs my dad,â I tell him, letting my tears fall. âHeâs in the hospital, and I know I need to move, but Iâm scared, Noah. Iâm so scared.â I choke back a sob as Noah tightens his arms around me, one hand tangling into my hair.
âWhat did the nurse say?â
âJust that heâs in critical condition,â I manage to tell him.
Noah nods and rubs my back. âCome on, Iâll take you. You wonât be alone, baby. Iâll be right there with you. Whatever happens, whatever we find at the hospital, Iâll be right there with you.â
I nod, but I canât stop shaking. I canât control the dread Iâm feeling. The regret. Noah was right all along. I had so many chances to see him, to speak to him, and I took it all for granted. I had something I can see Noah longing for every single day. I saw it in the way he idolized my grandfather, the way he looks at photos of his parents. I saw it, and I still took my own father for granted.
Itâs all I can think about as I rush to get dressed. Part of me doesnât even want to go to the hospital, scared of what Iâll find. Iâm not ready to face the possibility of not having a father at all. Iâve been so consumed by hate and anger, but I never realized how much of a luxury that was.
Noah is quiet as he drives me to the hospital, but the way he clutches the steering wheel tells me heâs worried too. Something about the look in his eyes tells me heâs lost in his own past. He wonât tell me how he lost his parents, but it wouldnât surprise me if it was a little similar to what Iâm experiencing now. A phone call. A visit to the hospital. I might be going through a lot tonight, but so is Noah. Despite that, heâs here with me. I will myself to cling onto that feeling, the love we share. Itâll carry me through anything.
âWeâre here,â he whispers, his hand reaching for mine. Noah entwines our fingers, his grip tight. âItâll be okay, Amara. Donât think about the past, or any of the choices youâve made. Youâre here now, and thatâs all that matters. Focus on the present. The past can wait.â
I look into his eyes and nod. âI love you, Noah. If not for youâ¦â
He smiles at me and leans in to press a kiss to my forehead. âIf not for me, youâd still have pulled yourself together and made it here. Iâm glad I got to be the one to drive you, though. Are you ready?â
I nod, and Noah presses a kiss to my forehead before stepping out of the car. My eyes follow him as he walks around and opens the door for me, holding out his hand. I take it and hold on for dear life, using him to anchor myself.
Iâm trembling as we walk in, my mind replaying the last time I saw my father. I told him I didnât know if I wanted him in my life, and I regret it now.
âIf heâs in critical condition, heâll likely be in the ICU,â Noah says, point at the signs. He leads me through the hospital, stopping at the nurseâs station.
The nurseâs eyes widen when she sees Noah, a smile lighting up her face. âDr. Grant,â she says, a twinkle in her eyes. Her smile transforms her tired expression and makes her look a decade younger, despite her gray hair.
He smiles back, his arm wrapping around my shoulder. âHi Susan,â he says. âItâs been a while.â
She nods. âYouâre no longer a rookie, huh? It seems like a lifetime ago that you worked here.â
Noah smiles. Itâs the first genuine smile Iâve seen on his face tonight. âIt was only three years ago, but it sure feels like forever ago, doesnât it?â
She nods. âWhat can I do for you, sweetie?â
He looks at me, a reassuring look in his eyes. âMy girlfriendâs father was admitted to the hospital. Weâd like to see him. Can you point us the right way, please?â
She looks at me, a kind smile on her face. âWhatâs your fatherâs name, darling?â
I straighten, keeping the panic at bay as best as I can. âItâs Peter Simmons, maâam.â
Noah tenses next to me, and I turn to look at him to find him frowning, his eyes on the wall behind Susan. âEverything okay?â I whisper. He doesnât look at me. Instead, he stares into space, lost in thought.
âYour father was transferred out of the ICU,â Susan tells us, giving me his room number. âBased on what I can see here, he seems to be out of danger, but heâs being monitored closely. You should be able to go see him.â
I breathe a sigh of relief, feeling conflicted. âThank you,â I whisper, my hand slipping into Noahâs. I turn to follow Susanâs directions, but Noah stays rooted in place.
âNoah,â I murmur, pulling on his hand. He looks at me, but itâs almost like heâs looking straight through me. I donât know what heâs seeing, but the way he looks at me scares me. Heâs never looked at me that way before, almost like Iâm a stranger.
Noah nods at me, snapping out of it. He falls into step with me as we walk toward my fatherâs room, but I canât shake the feeling that everything is wrong. I canât escape this sense of impending doom, and my intuition is never wrong.