Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
As she took his hand, her heart got all tight and cold. Clive might be an unreliable firefly of a father, but he was still her father. She wasn’t ready to lose him.
A rustle behind her, the curtains parting as the surgeon walked in.
Dr. Sung was a petite woman with sharp eyes and a firm manner. “The surgery went textbook well,” she told Catie. “Your father is otherwise healthy and strong, which will help in his recovery.”
“Will he have to worry about long-term effects?” Catie asked.
“No. He was lucky to be so close to the hospital when he suffered the adverse event. We had him in surgery within forty minutes. He’s a lucky man.”
“Always a gambler, eh, Dad,” she said after Dr. Sung had left.
Gloria, having returned at the tail end of the doctor’s visit, laughed a little wetly. “Isn’t he just?” She brushed back Clive’s hair.
“Why were you two so close to the hospital? Are you staying nearby?”
“No. I talked him into coming to the emergency room when he complained about feeling off,” Gloria explained. “No pain, but he wasn’t feeling like himself. Normally Clive would brush that off—you know your father.
“But he was sweaty and shaky and couldn’t really argue with me when I bundled us into the taxi for the drive here. He had the heart attack as the taxi turned onto this street. Or maybe he was having it all morning. I don’t know. The doctor will know. I just—”
“It’s okay.” Catie reached over to take Gloria’s hand. Throat thick, she said, “You probably saved his life by bringing him here. Thank you.”
Eyes swimming with tears, Gloria whispered, “I love him so much.”
“Me too.” She knew never to rely on him for anything, but she did love her father and always would.
When her phone buzzed in her pocket, she was glad of the distraction from the sight of Clive so quiet and still. Her father was never that way. Taking it out of her pocket, she saw a missed call from Ísa.
Her sister, of course, had sprung into action to help her. She would’ve flown over with Catie if little Connor wasn’t sick with a bad stomach bug. Catie, herself, was worried about her nephew. She couldn’t imagine the stress Ísa was under, seeing her baby in such distress.
“I’ll just step out to call my sister,” she said to Gloria.
Once in an open hallway far from any patient rooms, her back to a cold wall, she made the call.
Ísa said, “How’s Clive?” as soon as she answered on the other end.
“He’s okay. Not conscious yet, but the doctor says he should make a full recovery.”
A jagged exhale. “Oh, thank God.”
“Connor?” Catie asked, fingers clenching on the hard plastic of her phone case. “Is he any better?”
“Yes.” Ísa’s smile was in her tone. “Turned the corner a couple of hours ago. He’s laughing with Sailor and Emmaline in the kitchen right now—be a few more days before he’s back to his usual energetic self, but our poor little guy isn’t throwing up anymore.”
They spoke for a few more minutes before hanging up. After which, Catie found herself sliding down the wall to sit on the floor as tears threatened to overwhelm her. She swallowed them back over and over again. Then she called Danny. When his phone went automatically to voice mail, she left a message telling him that Clive was out of surgery and asking him to call her.
Because she needed him.
Needed his voice and his face and his warmth. Needed the way he could make any situation better.
But Danny didn’t call. Not in the minutes that followed, or in the hours afterward when she took Gloria’s advice and made herself go to Gloria and Clive’s hotel room to shower and catch a few hours’ sleep. Gloria would then do the same herself after Catie returned to sit with Clive. Neither one of them wanted him to wake up alone.
She woke to a silent phone.
Worry gnawed at her. Danny would never ignore her that way. She knew that beyond any shadow of a doubt. Remembering that time he’d ended up in the hospital, she tried to get ahold of him again, but it went directly to voice mail.
So she messaged Takuro: Hey, Tak. I can’t seem to get in touch with Danny. You know what’s up?
Takuro replied as she was heading down to the small café attached to the hotel to grab something quick for breakfast: Hello, Catie! I’m visiting my village this week. Tea plantations everywhere! Want me to ask someone at the house to check on him?
Catie chewed on her lip. She didn’t want to intrude if Danny was just busy— No. She stopped that thought right in its tracks. That wasn’t Danny. That had never been Danny. He never just blew her off. Ever.