The Billionaire's One

2. Journal Entry One of Knowing

Dad,

I decided that I would use this, the journal that you left me, as my medical journal because of how supportive you were of me wanting to become a doctor.

After I decided that's it's what I wanted to do, I was apprehensive of telling you because I thought you'd be disappointed that I didn't want to take over your business.

You were in your study.

As usual.

Because Jenna and Isa had just got that karaoke machine and we couldn't get a moment of silence in our usually calm household.

I stood outside your door for about half an hour before walking in.

You were reading a book.

The Count of Monte Cristo.

One of your favourites.

When I told you that I wanted to become a doctor, you were thrilled for me.

You always pushed me to be the best doctor that I can be.

You never even gave a second thought to your business.

The business was always of secondary importance to you; your family came first.

I always admired that about you.

Many of my friends had parents who ran their own businesses, as well, and I remember them telling me how their parents barely had time for them.

You were always there, come rain or shine.

Whenever I came home from college, you'd ask me what I learnt.

I'd pick the most interesting things I learnt to tell you.

Now that you're gone, I wanted to keep doing exactly that.

Today, I've decided that I'd like to start telling you something else.

More appropriately, someone else.

I met a girl.

Or maybe, I should say, the girl.

Or maybe, I shouldn't say that because I just met her. But that's exactly what I want her to be.

I never thought I'd say that getting stuck on an elevator would be a blessing, but here I am.

When she tumbled into the elevator this morning, I didn't think anything of it.

It's only when the elevator stalled and her index finger immediately began tapping against the bar that I looked at her.

She was nervous.