One Perfect Day

Chapter 43 | Fateful Return - (Blake's POV)

"No, I'm staying," I assert as I reach for Brynne's arm.

Doctor Willis stands in front of me and crosses her arms.

"We cannot treat her if you are in this room. I assume the two of you are not related or married?"

I shake my head, keeping my gaze focused on Brynne.

"Then I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"She has stage four leukemia and recently had a lung tumor resection," I croak as the doctor wheels Brynne out of the emergency room.

"Thank you, sir. She'll be in good hands." She politely taps my shoulder and takes Brynne with her.

A nurse shows me to the waiting room and helps me sit down while my tears begin to fall. I send my shaky hands through my hair while angrily bouncing my legs.

How did I not notice?

I didn't notice her cancer, and I didn't notice she was suffering.

If I had just paid more attention to her and stopped worrying about myself, she wouldn't be here right now.

I shouldn't have burdened her with my problems.

God, I'm so selfish.

All Brynne needed was someone to take care of her, not the other way around.

She was falling apart in front of me, and I still couldn't bring myself to see her as anything other than a girl I love. Coming face to face with the fact that Brynne is sick, is something I struggle with every day.

She needs me to be there for her, and I fail every time the task is brought up.

Soon enough, I manage to stop crying by staring into space. The emergency room's light blue walls begin to blur until an older man places his hand on my shoulder.

"Son?" A familiar voice startles me.

I look up and am shocked at what I see. His eyes look the same, but a lot has changed.

My father's body looks tired and beaten. His face looks rugged and older than I remembered.

But there is something different in his eyes, his determination. There's something evil about him that I don't remember noticing when I was younger.

I sit still as he smirks at my reaction

"What? You don't recognize your papá?" His heavy Italian accent brings back childhood memories.

I've always been told to look like my father's younger version. Even in school, I was always questioned on why I took my mother's last name because Wright is not Italian. Almost everyone I know was shocked at the fact that I don't look like my mother at all.

Who knows? Knowing my father, she might've not even been my biological mother.

"What are you doing here?" I grunt, uncomfortable at the situation he's caught me in.

"Well, that's no way to greet your old man. I find it funny that I can spot you driving from anywhere, even as I'm crossing the street of this little beach town." He retaliates.

"That car is nice, must've cost you a fortune. I wonder if you used the precious money from our newest drug sale." He snarls through his front teeth.

I don't care about any of that anymore. I only care about Brynne.

"That is my hard-earned money, Lorenzo," I say with no emotion.

"Okay bambino, I see how it is now. You can't even be bothered to hug your papá."