CHAPTER 70
COLLIN’S POV
The morning sun cast long shadows in the kitchen, but the atmosphere was shrouded in an uneasy silence. Kayla and I sat at the table, the clinking of our utensils against the plates the only sound in the room. Sophia's absence hung over us like a heavy cloud.
"Why isn't Sophia joining us?" I finally asked, my concern creeping into my voice.
Kayla looked up, her eyes reflecting the same worry I felt. "I tried waking her up, but her door's locked, and she won't respond."
My heart quickened as a sense of foreboding settled over me. I rushed upstairs, calling Sophia's name with increasing urgency. The air felt thick with tension as my knocks turned to desperate pounding. The door finally gave way, swinging open to a scene that froze the blood in my veins.
I rushed upstairs, the fear gripping my chest like a vice. The silence that met my calls sent shivers down my spine. "Sophia! Sophia, open the door!" I pounded on the wooden barrier, my heart racing in tandem with the rising panic.
No response.
Something wasn't right. A chill swept over me as I stepped back, scanning the door for any sign of what was happening inside. In my desperation, I reared back and threw my weight against the door. It splintered, the lock giving way, revealing a scene that shattered my world.
Sophia lay on the floor, unmoving, an empty pill container beside her. "No, no, no!" I screamed her name, my voice hoarse with terror. I dropped to my knees beside her, trembling hands reaching for her, as if by some miracle, I could undo whatever had happened.
"Kayla!" I bellowed, the sound echoing through the house. I cradled Sophia in my arms, fear gnawing at my insides. I could feel the seconds ticking away like a time bomb, each one pushing us closer to a devastating outcome.
Kayla rushed into the room, her eyes widening in horror at the sight before her. "Call an ambulance!" I ordered, my voice strangled. Panic clawed at me, threatening to consume any rational thought.
"Sophia!" I screamed, rushing to her side. She lay on the floor, unconscious, an empty pill container nearby.
"Kayla!" I yelled, my voice strangled with panic. "Help me, we need to get her to the hospital!"
Anxiety and guilt gripped my chest, the weight of responsibility settling heavily on my shoulders.
She fumbled for her phone, fingers shaking as she dialed the emergency number. I could hear her relaying the information as I clutched Sophia to my chest, the world around me blurring into a nightmare.
Minutes later, the wail of an ambulance siren pierced the air, a haunting melody of urgency. The paramedics rushed in, their practiced movements a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded in Sophia's room.
"She took too many pills," Kayla explained, her voice choked with tears. I watched in silent horror as they worked to stabilize Sophia, each second an eternity.
In the ambulance, I sat beside her, my fingers intertwined with hers. The journey to the hospital was a torturous ride through the unknown. Questions swirled in my mind, accusations and self-blame colliding like a storm.
In the waiting room, I paced back and forth, my mind a chaotic whirlwind of blame and regret. Kayla sat in a corner, her face etched with worry, her attempts to comfort me falling on deaf ears.
"This is all my fault," I muttered to myself, unable to shake the guilt that consumed me.
Kayla stood and walked over, her expression determined. "Collins, you can't blame yourself. We don't know what led to this."
I shook my head, frustration and helplessness welling up inside me. "I should have seen the signs, Kayla. I should have known she was hurting."
The minutes dragged on like hours, each passing second amplifying my anxiety. When the doctor finally emerged, my heart skipped a beat.
Why hadn't I seen the signs? What had driven her to this point? The weight of my failures as a father bore down on me, a burden too heavy to carry.
In the hospital waiting room, I paced, my footsteps echoing the chaos in my mind. The minutes stretched into hours, and the walls closed in, suffocating me with the uncertainty of Sophia's fate.
When the doctor finally emerged, my heart lodged in my throat. "She's stable now, but it was a close call," he said, the words hanging in the air like a fragile lifeline.
Relief and guilt coexisted within me. I'd been given a second chance, but the wounds of that moment lingered, a reminder of the fragility of life and the consequences of my blindness.
I stood by Sophia's bedside, I vowed to be a better father.
****
The sterile hospital room felt like a battleground as I cautiously stepped in, my heart heavy with the weight of recent events. Sophia lay in the bed, eyes fixed on some distant point, resentment radiating from her every pore. Her hostility hung in the air like a storm waiting to break.
"Hey," I began tentatively, trying to keep my voice steady. "We need to talk about what happened."
She shot me a look, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and defiance. "What's there to talk about?"
I took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I need to understand why you did this, Sophia. Why would you try to end your life?"
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "You really don't get it, do you? This life you've built for me, this cage you call a home—I can't breathe in it."
I winced at her words, a pang of guilt gnawing at me. "I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was doing what's best."
"Protecting me?" she scoffed. "You've been suffocating me. I'm not a child anymore, Dad. I need to make my own choices, even if they're mistakes."
Her words hit me like a slap, the realization of my failure as a father cutting deep. "I never meant to control you, Sophia. I just wanted to keep you safe."
"Safe?" she retorted. "There's a difference between safe and imprisoned. I'd rather take my chances with the world than live as your prisoner."
Her hostility fueled my frustration, and I felt the heat rising within me. "I just want what's best for you. Can't you see that?"
"What's best for me is to be free, not shackled to your expectations," she shot back.
I struggled to find a response, the words catching in my throat. The silence hung heavy in the room, each passing second a testament to the chasm between us.
Finally, I managed to speak, my voice a mix of desperation and regret. "I don't want you to feel like a prisoner, Sophia. I want you to be happy. If I've failed you, tell me how I can make it right."
She glared at me, her defiance unwavering. "You can't fix this, Dad. I need space, I need to live my life on my terms."
I nodded, a heavy sigh escaping me. "I'll give you the space you need. But promise me you'll talk to someone, a professional who can help you navigate through this pain."
She shrugged, a gesture laced with indifference. "Fine, if it'll get you off my back."
As I left the room, the weight of our conversation hung over me like a cloud. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had lost my daughter, not to death, but to a life that I couldn't comprehend. The journey to rebuild our relationship seemed daunting, but if there was one thing I knew, it was that I couldn't let her slip away.
The hospital waiting room felt like a cavern of despair as I stumbled towards Kayla, my heart heavy with the weight of guilt and regret. She looked up, her eyes mirroring the concern etched on her face.
"Collins, what happened?" she asked, concern etched on her face.
I sank into the chair beside her, running a hand through my disheveled hair. "Everything's falling apart, Kayla. Sophia... she hates me."
Her brow furrowed, a mix of sympathy and worry playing on her features. "What happened? Why would she hate you?"
A heavy sigh escaped me as I tried to find the right words. "I found her unconscious with an empty pill bottle beside her. She tried to take her own life."
Kayla gasped, her hand covering her mouth. "Oh my God, Collins, I'm so sorry. Is she okay?"
"She's stable now, physically at least," I replied, my voice hoarse. "But mentally... she's shattered. And she hates me because I've been trying to protect her from what I thought were bad decisions, especially involving Henry."
Kayla's eyes narrowed slightly, and I could see the question forming in her mind. "And what decisions are those?"
I leaned back, the weight of my words heavy in the air. "Henry used to date her mother, and he kept it from me. I found out, but I didn't confront him because we were friends. Now, with Sophia and him... it's too much, and I don't know how to handle it."
She looked at me, a mix of sympathy and disbelief in her eyes. "So, you're punishing Sophia for something her mother did and for Henry not telling you about it?"
I winced at the blunt truth of her words. "I just want what's best for her, Kayla. I can't stand the thought of her getting hurt."
She leaned forward, her tone firm but compassionate. "Collins, you can't control every aspect of her life. Sophia's an adult. She needs to make her own choices, even if they're mistakes."
"I know, but..." I trailed off, frustration bubbling within me. "I can't help it. I can't lose her, Kayla. I can't lose my little girl."
She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Collins, sometimes the more you try to hold onto someone, the more they slip away. You need to give her the space to live her life, even if it means making mistakes. It's the only way she'll learn and grow."
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I nodded, a mixture of gratitude and desperation in my voice. "I just don't want to lose her, Kayla. I can't bear it."
She squeezed my shoulder, her voice softening. "Let her know that, Collins. Let her know you love her, no matter what. It's all you can do right now."
As we sat there, the weight of my actions pressed down on me. I needed to find a way to bridge the chasm between us before it was too late.
My eyes fixated on the hospital hallway, and there he was—Henry, an unwelcome presence in the midst of our chaos. Anger surged through me like a raging storm, and I couldn't contain it. "Henry! Get out! I don't want you here!"
He turned toward me, an expression of defiance etched on his face. "I'm not leaving, Collins. I care about Sophia, and I want to make sure she's okay."
I shot up from my seat, my finger pointed accusingly at him. "This is your fault! She wouldn't be in that room if it weren't for you."
Kayla, caught in the crossfire, tried to intervene. "Collins, yelling won't help anyone. Let him stay."
I glared at her, my frustration boiling over. "Why would you call him? I explicitly told you not to!"
She held her ground, her eyes determined. "Because he cares about Sophia, just like I do. And maybe, just maybe, he can help her in a way we can't."
I grumbled in frustration but reluctantly sat back down. The tension in the room hung thick, like an impending storm waiting to break loose.
Henry, sensing the animosity, took a step closer. "Collins, I'm not here to cause trouble. I just want to know she's okay."
I shot him a venomous look. "You're the reason she's like this. She found out about you and her mother, and now she's falling apart."
Henry's gaze dropped to the floor, guilt etched across his face. "I didn't want her to find out like this. I thought we had more time."
My anger intensified. "More time for what? To destroy her even more?"
Kayla, ever the mediator, spoke up. "Enough, both of you! Sophia is in there fighting for her life, and you're bickering like children. If you can't be civil, at least have the decency to step outside."
The hospital room felt like a battleground, with the casualties being the very people we claimed to care about.
Henry, despite the tension, stood his ground. "Collins, I never wanted to hurt Sophia. I care about her, and I would do anything to make things right."
I scoffed, the bitterness in my voice palpable. "Too late for that. You've already done enough damage."
Kayla, sensing the need for a resolution, stepped between us. "Let's focus on Sophia. Fighting won't help her. We need to figure out how to support her, together."
The minutes ticked by, the air heavy with unspoken resentment. In that fraught silence, we all grappled with the weight of our actions and the impact they had on the person lying vulnerable in that hospital bed.
As much as I despised the presence of Henry, Kayla's words struck a chord. Sophia needed us, not discord. With a begrudging nod, I agreed, "Fine, but only for Sophia. You step out of line, and I won't hesitate to throw you out."
Henry nodded, a mix of contrition and determination in his eyes. "I'll do whatever it takes to help her through this."
Reluctantly, we all made our way back into the hospital room.