We Loved

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Dialog in italics is through a device.

THE NEWS hit like a virus, spreading all over the channels with no mercy. Demoralized and stripped of all that really mattered. Everything summarized into bold lines, served on a platter for people to invade, not reading the story, but only the shallow headlines. Each one handpicking what they're interested in. Like they could. Because they could. 

The television rumbles, white parallel lines slowly ascending in its screen.

Eight days, Kevin?

Yes, can you believe it? And she escaped on her own, recognized by a couple of bikers.

Insane! I hear her husband is now doing everything he can to make her feel safe again.

Yes! We've been informed that he has installed the highest security systems of all time, costing him at least-

I switch channels.

Home safe. Indeed, Brooks, we've been informed that even the police have their eyes on them. If anyone is attacking their home anytime soon, they'll be up for-

Switch.

-is still out there! Wake up, people! The men who did this are walking amongst us! Amongst your children! She escaped on her own for God's sake! Where is securi- 

Switch.

Amazing what a man's love can do!

Definitely! I want a Noah Wilfred myself, where do you get-

With a sigh, I turn it off, taking my time before turning back to dad. "You must be tired from all that TV."

Dad laughs, his shoulders dancing, and lays his head back on the bed. "You're talking about me?"

My eyes escape his gaze landing on the turned off television screen. "Are you gonna sleep?" I stand up, but he holds my wrist.

"No, no, just resting my head back." He smiles, face softening, his eyes lingering on the ceiling before landing on me. Looking at me through wrinkled skin, each line telling stories beyond any information I could collect, smiles at the light mishaps of his daughters, frowns at the consequented ones, eyes that express both love and grief no words could describe. He raises his hand to my cheek, I hold it, for it's too weak to still. After an age of fighting gravity, his frail body lays tired in his bed, his whole being introducing him to me. I turn my face into his hand.

"You should rest." I place his hand back.

"Don't tell me what I'm supposed to do." He frowns, sitting up, barely pushing himself up with his elbows. "If I needed to doze off, I would've already been long asleep."

"Dad, you look tired," I urge.

"I am not." He says, voice stern and sharp, but his face softens. "It's the last day that you're here, let me be."

"I'll visit you," I say.

"No, you won't."

"I promise- I will." I reach out for him.

"I don't want you to." He shakes his head pushing my hand away. "You stay with Noah till it is all safe," he says. "I'd rather you don't leave the house at all. Much less without him by your side."

"He's not my bodyguard." I retract.

"He is your husband, he very much is."

"This is not the ice age, dad, he- he-" I fall silent. Either for the lack of appropriate words or the knock on the door, I don't know.