Two days later!
The hours have gone by so fast, and now it is that time—the turning point where my is due for the surgery. That critical moment holds our future. After this, our are not going to be the same ever again, because I am going to dedicate every of my entire life to taking care of him, showing him how much I am proud of , and cherishing every single moment of our days together.
We are going to have the thrill of life from now on and savor every kick of it from on. I will show nothing to him from now on other than gratitude, love, care, and . Not holding back anything, because I know he is also looking forward to the same. Lief has given us a second chance, and we are not going to waste with unnecessary fights and arguments like before. On the contrary, we are going to agree to disagree, and vice versa.
That aside, for now. We are at the hospital. Oh well, I am at the hospital where my is supposed to undergo the transplant. I am alone, because, like I have always , I am the only one who cares about him and not those witches. They didn’t move muscle all that time, and I was running up and down preparing my father’s things to him to the hospital. They were still comfortably parked on the couches and in the glee of the castle, which they did not merit when I and the doctors my father out. They never said a word. Never asked a word. Honestly, I am to believe that I am living with real witches here. I mean, who on earth does ? Who in this entire human realm believes like they do?
Pacing back and forth has been my thing ever since my father was taken into that . Anxiety and fear are creeping into me in savage streams, especially because I no one by my side to calm me down or at least distract me for a while. I am out since this has taken a bit longer than Dr. Lemuel explained. Why are the taking so long in there? They said they were just going to run a few checkups he goes to the theater, but why are they taking forever? Pardon my terrors, Lemuel ascertained to me that there is absolutely nothing to worry about, but
I can't help it. No one would remain calm in this particular situation, right?
I am exhausted from pacing back and forth in this corridor. I have mentally howled pleas to the heavens to make this a success. I have made exertions to make loosen up on this couch, but it is damn pricking my arse. I spring to my feet with my pounding heart in my chest. Its echoes are boisterous enough in this silence.
Heck, why didn't the witches come with me here? I would prefer bickering with them nothing other than this freaking anxiety.
"Ellie?"
I take a one-eighty-degree u-turn to the face of Dr. Lemuel. I was about to thrust a , but I sucked it back the minute my eyes met his dull face. I have never seen his this dull in the few days that I have known him. He was always cheerful, even he was solacing me, and that is why I was so sure that this would be over soon.
But this look on his face...
"Lemuel? Why? What is wrong? Is Papa okay? Can we take him to the theatre now?"
I rant non-stop. It is my apprehensions and fears conversing, and I don't think I would ceased ranting if only Lemuel hadn't held my shoulders.
"Ellie, your...your...father...is fine."
He is? Then why is he hesitating in the middle of words to amass more courage to to me like this, huh? He should be cheerful and sure, like before. Why this?
"Then why? Why do you sound like something is wrong, Lemuel? Tell me the truth.
Is my father really okay? Can I see him? Right now?" I rant again.
"Calm down, Ellie!" He says this, soothing my shoulders.
I slip from his grip, cold chills squinting under my skin. "Calm down? I need to know is happening, Lemuel!" I speak.
"Your father will be taken to the theater in an hour. But before then, he..."
"A what?"
An hour? Why take so much time when time is what we don’t have? He said this to be done quickly, right? Why the hell is he now prolonging it?
"I had to move it a bit further,” I frown at him, and he continued explaining, “Because father asked to speak with you and Damian first. He has pleaded with me to do one last favor for him."
I am thunderstruck!
What?
“Then tell my father that there is no time. Make him understand that he needs that ASAP. He can then speak to whoever that he wants after.” I grab his hands, , “Lemuel, make Father see why this can’t be delayed. Make him understand .”
“I have tried Ellie,” he cuts me off defeatedly. “The reason why I took so long in there because I was trying to explain to Mr. Riccaford how important this urgency for transplant is. But he insisted. And he said he is not going to the theater until he to both you and Damian.”
This old man is really stubborn, huh? But, Damian? What does my father want to about with Damian and I? And what is so serious that can't wait until the is over? Why does it have to be right now? This doesn't sound good at all. Or I paranoid? Damian? Really?
"What is that that is more important than his own life? I mean, why is he risking his like this?" I think out loud.