The morning had been a complete blur. From the moment I got the phone call telling me about my dad to the fast and frantic drive to the hospital to the frustratingly long wait while he was in surgery, there had only been one thought running non-stop through my mind.

Please, God, let him be okay. Please don’t take him from me. He’s all I have left.

Angel had been… well, an Angel. He’d driven me there, walked me into the waiting room, and then hadn’t left my side until the doctor had finally come out to tell me my dad had made it through the surgery and was in the recovery room.

Angel had left then, knowing—just like he always seemed to—that I needed the time alone with my dad. It had been just another one of the tiny little favors he’d done for me over the past few weeks, and just like with the other things—giving me a safe space, a quiet place to study, not asking for anything I didn’t want to give, driving me to the hospital, and now, leaving before I could even ask—he hadn’t asked for or expected anything in return.

I’d be eternally grateful for all of those things, but I didn’t even know how to begin to thank him.

Most of all, I was thankful for what he’d said right before he left.

“You’re free to go, my Bella. Not just for right now, but later, when you leave here. You need to be home, where your dad is. Where your heart is.”

And now, as I held my dad’s warm but nearly lifeless hand and watched the slow rise and fall of his chest as the machines he was hooked up to beeped and flashed, I could feel the tears start to fall again.

After my mom died, I swore I’d never take for granted how quickly life could change, or how everything I knew and loved could be taken away in the blink of an eye.

But here I was, regretting that I hadn’t been with my dad when he’d needed me, knowing just how close I’d come to never seeing him again.

“You should go get some rest.” The sweet, quiet voice behind me made me jump and I quickly wiped my face with the back of my hand as I turned to see one of the nurses I’d spoken with earlier standing in the doorway.

“No,” I said, flatly. “I need to stay. I need to be here when he wakes up.”

She nodded and smiled, her eyes full of sympathy. “It might be hours before he wakes up, sweetie. And even then, he might only be awake for a few minutes at a time. He’s going to be on some pretty powerful pain medication.”

“I understand,” I said, looking down and gently squeezing my dad’s hand. “But I’m not going anywhere until he wakes up.”

She sighed lightly but thankfully didn’t argue. “I’ll bring you a chair, then. You can stay with him here in recovery until we have a room ready for him, and then you can go with him there.”

“Thank you,” I said, blinking hard to keep the fresh round of tears from spilling over. “I appreciate that.”

I turned my attention back to my dad and forced a smile onto my face. When he did finally wake up, I wanted him to see me happy, and that meant I’d need to get it together.

The tears could wait until later, until I was alone again.

For now, all I could do was wait and pray.

And just keep smiling.

* * *

The nurse had been right. It had taken hours—five hours, to be exact—for my dad to wake up.

But the look on his face when he saw me there, still holding his hand as I sat there fighting the urge to drift off to sleep, had been more than worth the wait. More than worth the uncertainty and the tears and the seemingly endless hours of sitting in uncomfortable hospital chairs.

“Kimbella,” my dad’s voice was strained and sounded more weak than I’d ever heard him. “You shouldn’t be here… Angel won’t like—”

“Shh, Daddy,” I shook my head, still smiling at him even though I was worried and afraid. “He brought me here. And he’s letting me come home, so don’t worry about that anymore. As soon as you’re feeling better, we’ll both be back home together.”

“That’ll be nice,” he said, patting my hand as his eyes fluttered closed again. “I’m so tired, Kimbella.”

The nurse had told me he’d be exhausted, but I hadn’t really anticipated how taxing it would be for him to sit and talk for just a few seconds. I didn’t like seeing him so weak and frail. All my life, for all the mistakes he’d made along the way, he’d been my rock—the one person I could count on to always be there no matter how crazy everything else got.

Now, though, I was starting to realize that he was still human, just a man, and one of these days he wouldn’t be around anymore.

“Just rest, Daddy,” I said. “I’ll make sure everything is clean and nice at home when you’re ready to get out of here.”

If I hadn’t been watching, I would’ve missed the slight movement of his head that passed for a nod, and the little twitch at the corners of his mouth that told me he approved.

“Good, Kimbella,” he whispered. “Go now. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Okay,” I said, squeezing his hand again. But if he heard me, he didn’t say anything else, and after a few moments I could see his chest rising and falling in that slow, familiar rhythm that told me the pain meds had kicked in again.

I waited for a little while longer, just content to sit there with him and watch over him. But then I remembered his words and how agitated he’d probably be if he woke up to still find me there.

He might be weak at the moment, but I knew my dad, and he didn’t like to look weak. Sending me off to stay with Angel had been a hard blow to his ego, and I’d worried at the time that he’d die if I didn’t go.

I hadn’t anticipated him nearly dying because of it.

Stress caused heart attacks, though, right? And there was no doubt that I’d stressed him out with my last-minute plan to buy him more time to pay off his debt.

Now, though, we’d have to come up with a better plan—together this time. One that would keep me home and still let him own up to his other obligations.

I sighed and stood up, finally letting go of his hand for the first time in hours.

There would be plenty of time to worry about all of that other stuff later, once he was safe and sound at home. For now, the best thing for me to do was to go there and make sure everything was perfect for him. He’d need food and medicine and a comfortable place to sleep downstairs, and those were all things I could take care of for him.

At least I felt like I had a purpose again, and maybe, just maybe, it could be a new beginning for us. A clean slate.

A chance to finally put the past behind us and start over as a father and daughter.

A family.

* * *

I was barely standing by the time the bus stopped in my neighborhood and I slowly eased myself down onto the curb. More than twelve hours had passed since Angel and I had gone racing to the hospital, but it felt more like a lifetime to my aching feet and back, sore from a day of pacing up and down tile corridors and fearfully perched on the edge of foam seat cushions that might as well have been made of concrete.

I had to stop myself in the courtyard when my legs automatically started carrying me to Angel’s condo, and for a moment I simply stood outside in the dark, trying to remind my body of what my brain had been wrestling with all day—that I wouldn’t be going back to Angel’s condo tonight.

That I might not ever go back there, now that he’d granted me the freedom to go home.

Home.

Finally getting with the program, my feet carried me back across the small patch of grass to my dad’s front door—our front door—and I fished my old key out of my purse as a grin spread across my face.

I had mixed feelings about leaving Angel’s place—about leaving him—but it was never supposed to be something that would last forever, and certainly never supposed to be something I would end up missing.

Still, if I was being honest, as happy as I was to be going home, a part of me did miss Angel already.

I’d have to push that part of me aside, though, and deal with what was happening in my life now. My dad’s heart attack had changed everything for me, and taking care of him had to be my number one priority. I owed it to him, and to my mom, and to myself to make things work, to fix our strained relationship and get back to a place where we could maybe, finally find a little bit of happiness as a family.

With that thought in my head, I started moving around the old condo, sighing as I realized the place probably hadn’t seen a vacuum cleaner or a dust rag since I’d been gone.

That was okay, though. Those were things I could easily take care of. That’s what I was there for.

I walked back to the hall closet to grab a broom and start working, determined to at last get something accomplished, no matter how tired my feet and back might be, and that’s when I spotted it.

A simple sheet of paper on the end table by the stairs, folded in half.

Dad never left mail lying around, and anything important never made it out to that table. In his line of business, he was always careful not to give any information away, especially when so many pairs of prying eyes were in and out of the place on a daily basis.

It was probably something as simple as a grocery list. Maybe something my dad had been holding onto when he’d had his heart attack.

That only served to make me more curious, though, and I crossed the hall to pick it up.

Important or not, I had to know what it was.

My brow furrowed as I read the handwritten note, and then tears started to well up in my eyes for what had to have been the hundredth time that day.

Calvin -

If you’re reading this, I hope it means that you’ve made it home and are recovering from your heart attack. We’ve had our differences and our ups and downs, but I’ve always considered you a friend.

You can rest assured that I have done my very best to take care of your daughter over these past few weeks, and I know it might seem hard to believe, but I really do care for her.

A lot.

She’ll be staying with you again, though, and I wish you both only happiness. As far as I’m concerned, all of our former debts are cleared out—paid in full.

I never meant for things to end up like this between us, old friend, and I hope someday we can get back to the way things used to be.

I’ll be sending a check in the mail to your address soon. It should be enough to cover Bella’s tuition for the next year until she graduates, and there should also be a little bit left over for the two of you. Go spend some quality time together. Eat a good meal. It’s on me.

I don’t want or need anything in return, and I’ll be gone for a while anyway, so don’t even try to thank me.

Get better soon, friend.

Much love,

Angel

By the time I got to the bottom of the letter, my eyes were so blurry with tears that I could barely read it, and I was already out the door and halfway across the courtyard before the last words registered in my brain.

I’ll be gone for a while…

Gone?

For the second time in less than ten minutes, I stood lost and confused in the middle of the courtyard.

I looked up at his darkened windows and shook my head. He couldn’t be gone. Not yet. Not until I could talk to him, could thank him, could tell him how much he meant to me.

Maybe he was still in there somewhere, sleeping or packing or… something.

All of the aches and pains in my body were temporarily forgotten as I broke into a run to his front door. Please be home. Please let me see you.

I knocked on his door and waited, but there was no answer. I still had the spare key he’d given me the first day I stayed with him, but… was it right to use it?

Did that count as breaking in?

“Fuck it,” I said, digging the key out and unlocking the door before I could talk myself out of it.

But I didn’t even have to go through the whole place to tell that he was already gone. Just standing in the foyer, I could sense that he wasn’t there. The place felt empty. Cold. Lifeless.

With nothing more to do, I walked back outside and closed and locked the door behind me. All of the day’s aches and pains came back with full force as I slumped against his doorframe.

I couldn’t even cry anymore—not after the day I’d had.

Every tear I could muster had already been shed, and now I was just… there.

Alone.

Tired.

Broken.