SASHA’S POV
As I walked through the hospital corridors toward my father’s ward, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off about Roland today.
I replayed the moments from earlier in my mind, trying to make sense of them.
His words had been comforting as always, but there was something different in the way he looked at me, the way he hugged me back.
When I embraced him, it had been out of gratitude, a gesture between friends, between siblings, even.
I’d needed advice, and he’d given it to me, but when his arms encircled me in return, the warmth felt… different.
It lingered longer than I expected, and there was something in his eyes, something unreadable but intense.
I shook my head, frustrated with myself for even entertaining the thought.
Roland was like family. He had always been a steady figure in my life, someone I trusted implicitly. Yet, today his behavior had been, no, stop it, Sasha, I scolded myself silently.
I was reading too much into things, letting my emotions spiral out of control. After everything that had happened recently, I was bound to feel hypersensitive.
Before I could dwell on it any longer, I pushed open the door to my father’s room.
“There she is,” my father’s voice called out, light and teasing, bringing me back to the present.
“I was wondering when my favorite daughter would remember to come back.”
I laughed as I stepped inside, the sound of his voice immediately easing my tension. “Dad, I’m your only daughter. The bar is pretty low, don’t you think?”
He chuckled, the sound warm and familiar, and I saw the twinkle in his eyes that always made me feel like a little girl again.
My father, even in his weakened state, had a way of making everything feel normal, safe.
As I moved closer, I noticed he looked better than he had in days. His color was returning, and though he still appeared frail, there was strength in his smile. “How are you feeling?” I asked, placing a hand gently on his arm.
“Better now that you’re here,” he said, his expression softening. “You’ve been busy, though, haven’t you?”
I sighed, pulling up a chair beside his bed. “You have no idea.”
His brows lifted. “Try me.”
I hesitated for a moment, unsure how much to share. My father had enough to deal with, recovering from his coma, regaining his strength.
He didn’t need to hear about my spiraling thoughts or the mounting tension in my life. But the way he looked at me, patient and understanding, broke down my walls.
“Everything feels so chaotic right now,” I admitted, leaning back in the chair.
“There’s so much to do, so many decisions to make, and I feel like I’m being pulled in a hundred different directions.”
” And then there’s… people. People who mean well but sometimes make things more complicated than they need to be.”
My father studied me for a long moment, his gaze steady and thoughtful. “Complicated how?”
I hesitated again, debating whether to mention Roland. I decided against it.
“Just… people who care about me, but sometimes it feels overwhelming. Like I can’t figure out how to balance everything.”
He nodded slowly. “It’s a good problem to have, you know. Being surrounded by people who love you. Not everyone is so lucky.”
The sincerity in his voice made me pause. There was a weight to his words, a reminder of how much he valued the connections in his life.
My chest tightened, and I realized how grateful I was to still have him here, to hear his wisdom, to feel his love.
“You’re right,” I said softly. “I am lucky.”
His expression shifted, a hint of mischief lighting his eyes. “And speaking of people who love you, how’s that husband of yours?”
A laugh bubbled out of me, surprising even myself. “He’s… Sebastian,” I said simply, knowing my father would understand the layers behind those words.
My father chuckled. “That’s quite the answer. Is he treating you right?”
“He is,” I said, my voice firm. “Even when things get complicated, I know he’s trying. We’re both trying.”
“Good,” my father said, his tone approving. “Marriage isn’t easy, Sasha, but it’s worth it if you’re both willing to fight for it.”
I nodded, taking his words to heart. “How about you?” I asked, changing the subject. “How’s your day been? Are the nurses treating you well?”
He grinned. “Oh, they’re wonderful. But don’t think I don’t notice you dodging the real topic.”
I rolled my eyes playfully. “You’re relentless, you know that?”
“Of course I am,” he said with a wink. “It’s part of my charm.”
We spent the next half hour talking, catching up on everything we’d missed during the weeks he’d been unconscious.
He asked about my work, my friends, even the mundane details of my daily life, and I found myself opening up more than I had in weeks.
Being with my father was like stepping into a bubble where everything else faded away. His humor, his insight, his unwavering belief in me, It was exactly what I needed.
But as the conversation went on, a nagging thought crept into my mind. The orders. I’d promised to handle some deliveries today, and I was already running behind.
“Dad,” I said reluctantly, glancing at the clock. “I just realized I haven’t delivered the orders yet. I should probably get going before it gets too late.”
He frowned, his disappointment clear. “You’re always running off somewhere, aren’t you?”
I gave him a sheepish smile. “I promise I’ll come back soon. And I’ll bring you something better than hospital food next time.”
His face softened, and he reached out to squeeze my hand. “Take care of yourself, Sasha. You can’t pour from an empty cup, you know.”
“I know,” I said, my throat tightening. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
As I stood and leaned down to hug him, I felt a surge of gratitude for this moment, for the chance to reconnect with him. No matter how chaotic my life felt, this was what mattered most.
“Love you, Dad,” I whispered.
“Love you too, kiddo,” he replied, his voice filled with warmth.
With one last smile, I left the room, my mind already racing with the tasks ahead. But as I walked down the corridor, my father’s words stayed with me, grounding me in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.