Page 132 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol 4

"Dad, I know she has the money."

"And she has no reason to give it to us."

"I've never asked her for anything. I could..."

"No. I don't want a cent from her. We've never needed a thing from her and we don't now either."

I pressed my lips together. How could he not want to try? How could he be giving up? And then I realized that maybe he had been fighting this for longer than I knew. Maybe he had been fighting alone the whole time I had been away. "When did you get diagnosed?"

"Halfway through your junior year."

"Why didn't you tell me?" For a year and a half he had been suffering alone. We told each other everything. At least, we used to.

"Because I knew you'd come home to help. I wanted you to finish school."

"You should have told me, Dad."

"And wouldn't you have come back?"

"Of course."

"Then I made the right decision."

"We're supposed to be a team, Dad."

"We are a team. But being a parent is also about making sacrifices for your child."

"I didn't ask you to do that."

"You being born asked that of me." He touched the bottom of my chin again. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. But I'm glad you're home now. I could use the extra help around the bar. I haven't been feeling up to it."

I nodded. I suddenly saw the wrinkles around his mouth and the hollow look of his eyes. He looked sick. He looked like a shadow of the man I had left behind to go to college. And he was telling me not to feel guilty about that. But I felt horrible. Had I really been so self centered that I hadn't noticed he was hurting?

"I'm sorry about the bar. I thought...well, I thought I'd get better."

I shook my head. "Don't worry about the bar, Dad." I embraced him in a hug. I didn't give a shit about the bar. All I really cared about in this whole world was him. He was it. I had to figure out a way to get the money for his treatment.

"Now get back to work, your old man needs to sit down."

"Okay." I wiped away my tears. All I could think about was that he'd never get a chance to truly grow old. I watched him sit down. He coughed again. How had I not realized he was sick?

"It's going to be okay, hon. You're going to be okay."

Without you?No, I wasn't. I nodded my head, but it was more of a reflex than an actual agreement. I wasn't a child. I knew that life wasn't fair. But this? My dad didn't deserve this. I swallowed down the lump in my throat as I made my way back to the bar. If the bar did well the next month, that wasn't going to change anything. That wasn't going to be enough money.

"Here," I said and put Tyler's phone and charger down on the counter.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine." I put on my fake smile. The one I so often used around customers. The one I so often used around campus. The one I seemed to use way more than my real smile.

"Thanks for this," he said and grabbed his phone. For a brief second his fingers brushed against mine.

I felt a spark. This tiny spark that suddenly made me not feel like crawling under the bar and crying my eyes out. I frowned.

He immediately moved his hand away. "And for the directions," Tyler said. "I owe you one."

I stared at him. He owed me one? I'd never see him again. "Have a safe drive." I folded my arms across my chest.