Page 97 of A Taste like Sin

“MS. THORNE?”

I jump as a woman in a lab coat appears at the mouth of the private lobby near the ICU. “Yes?” I

scramble up from a couch, smoothing my hands along my rumpled dress. “How is he?”

“Stable for now,” the woman says with a strained smile. “He’s asking to see you. I would ask you try

to limit tiring him out too soon, but you’re free to see him.”

I follow her into the hall, my heart in my throat. Before I even enter the room, I can sense a shift in the

atmosphere. The air isn’t so heavy. Someone opened a window, allowing in a fresh breeze, as well as

turned on the main light in the room. Bathed in the yellow glow, Daddy is lying in bed, propped up by

a wall of pillows. His frail hands settle together over his lap, but his eyes…

They tiredly focus on me as I approach.

I falter and brace my hand over my chest. “D-Daddy?”

“Sweet pea.” His thin, frail voice barely rises above a whisper—but my heart throbs at the sound. I

never thought I’d hear it again.

“How are you feeling?” I take up a chair beside his bed and grasp one of his hands.

He squeezes once reassuringly, and despite everything, a smile tugs on my lips. Though I can’t

prevent a tear from escaping, sliding down my cheek.

“I’ve been better,” he says with a weak laugh.

“I was worried about you,” I admit, swiping at my face with the back of my hand. “Weallwere.

Diane should be here soon. She got stuck in traffic—”

“I’m sorry, Juliana.” He brushes his other hand along my cheek. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“We don’t have to talk about that now.” I force a smile and fiddle with his blankets, smoothing them.

“We just need to focus on your health—”

“I’ve lied to you.” His reedy, broken voice sounds nothing like the confident man I know, and a

panicked part of me isn’t ready to have that image of him I’ve held for so long tarnished.

“Daddy, please. We don’t need to talk about that now—”

“I’ve lied to you,” he insists, his eyes watering. “All this time… I’m so sorry.”

“Then just… Just tell me why.”

It’s strange. I’ve never begged him for anything before. Not the most coveted Christmas presents, or

the chance to stay up even a minute past my bedtime. I accepted his rules and cherished whatever he

desired to give me. Based on that simple trust, I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone.