Stacey’s POV
The fire pit crackled softly as the camp quieted down for the evening, but my mind was far from still. Monica’s words replayed over and over: “Your dad—he’s not stable. He needs surgery.” I’d spent years building walls to keep out the mess he’d made of our lives, but now those walls felt like they were crumbling.
I stayed on the outskirts of the campfire, pretending to be absorbed in the glow of the flames, but Monica’s silhouette loomed in the shadows nearby. I knew she was waiting for me to say something, to acknowledge her.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood abruptly, startling a few campers, and marched toward Monica. She straightened as I approached, her eyes widening.
“Talk,” I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended.
Monica sighed, rubbing her temples. “The doctor said it’s critical. If your father doesn’t get a kidney soon, Stacey, he won’t make it. The complications are piling up.”
I folded my arms, more to stop myself from shaking than anything. “Why come to me? You clearly have his ‘new family.’ Isn’t that enough?”
Her expression crumpled, and for a brief moment, I saw something I hadn’t expected: vulnerability. “Our son is too young to donate,” she said softly. “And the waiting list… it’s too long. You’re his only chance.”
I felt a rush of emotions—anger, guilt, fear—all swirling together in a storm that left me breathless. “You want me to risk everything for a man who threw us away? Who let you destroy our family?”
Monica flinched, but she didn’t back down. “He’s still your father, Stacey. And despite everything, he loves you.”
I barked out a bitter laugh. “Funny way of showing it.”
“Stace.”
The sound of Marcus’s voice behind me made me freeze. I hadn’t realized he’d followed me. I turned to find him standing a few feet away, his arms crossed but his expression unusually soft.
“This isn’t your problem, Marcus,” I snapped.
“Too bad,” he shot back, stepping closer. “I’m making it my problem.”
I rolled my eyes, but Monica spoke before I could retort. “He’s right, Stacey. You don’t have to do this alone.”
I turned back to her, the weight of her words sinking in. Alone. That’s how I’d felt for years, even with people around me. Maybe I didn’t have to feel that way anymore.
“Fine,” I said finally, my voice tight. “I’ll do it. I’ll give him my kidney.”
Monica’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Thank you, Stacey. You don’t know what this means.”
“Don’t thank me,” I snapped. “I’m not doing this for you. Or him. I’m doing it so I can finally put this behind me.”
Marcus stepped forward, his hand brushing mine. “And I’m coming with you.”
“No, you’re not,” I said quickly. “This camp is important to you. You’re not throwing it away for me.”
“I already told you,” he said firmly, his eyes locking with mine. “You’re not doing this alone.”
The resolve in his voice made my throat tighten, and for once, I didn’t argue.