More Than Once | THE WATTPAD DRAFT

Chapter 32

*This story is on-going and changes will be made along the way.

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NB! Adult-content | Mature | Romance

**

By the time I got back to my apartment, I was numb. Giovanni walked me upstairs, his hand in mine the whole way. He unlocked the door and we stepped inside, greeted by the emptiness.

"We need to pack a bag and grab your passport," Giovanni explained softly, "Do you want me to do that for you?"

I shook my head, "I'll do it. Could you call Reyna and let her know?"

"Of course," he kissed my forehead

I walked down the hall to my room and grabbed a bag from the floor. I threw it on my bed and started shoving whatever I could find in it. My father had a heart attack. I couldn't fight the sick feeling of guilt that sat deep inside of me. I couldn't even remember the last time I had a full conversation with him. We spoke briefly a couple of months ago. He always reminded me that no matter what, he loved me. Unlike my mother, he tried to be more caring and understanding. He didn't ask too many questions - he just wanted to know I was okay. Why didn't I make more of an effort with him? I was so angry at myself. I didn't even realize that tears had started to form again until they spilled over, running down my cheeks. I dropped on my bed next to my bag and hung my head in my hands. What if he didn't make it? What would have been the last thing I said to him? I never thanked him for being a good father and he was, no matter the difficulties I faced with my mother and sister, it had nothing to do with him. He just got caught in the middle of my mother and me - the constant bickering and disagreements. Her constant disapproval of my choices and the pressure I had always felt from her. All of that seemed so irrelevant at that moment.

"Isabella?" I looked up at Giovanni standing in the doorway, "Baby are you ready to go? Our flight leaves in an hour,"

I wiped my cheeks as he walked over to me and wrapped his arms around me.

"It's going to be okay," he murmured into my hair,

"You don't know that," I sniffed,

"We'll be in London soon and then you'll be able to see him. I'm sure your family has the best doctors working on him,"

That was probably true. My mother was pedantic about so many things in life - she would definitely ensure my father was being taken care of. I gathered myself together and took a deep breath in. Giovanni grabbed my bag.

"Do you have everything?"

I quickly grabbed my passport from my bedside table, "Yes, let's go,"

**

It was already nightfall by the time we pulled up in front of St. Jude's hospital. I didn't know how Giovanni organized everything so quickly but we were in London and I was about to see my family for the first time in months. We stopped at the hotel room he booked and dropped our bags off first before heading to the hospital. The sick feeling in my stomach got worse at the thought of going inside - the guilt and the anxiety were now doubling over. I had no idea what to expect when I stepped through those doors. I didn't want to have to talk about anything from the last few months - I just wanted to focus on my dad. That's why I was here.

Giovanni grabbed my hand, pulling me out of my own overthinking, "Are you ready?"

I shook my head, "I don't think I am. This is the first time I'm going to see my family,"