Chapter 2 Two

Ziah's POV

The city skyline stretched out before me as the car sped through the streets. My mind was full of thoughts, but one thing stood out: the email from Jessie. My father was in the hospital, and nothing else seemed to matter.

As Chris drove, I could feel the tension in the car. He knew me well enough to sense my worry, but he kept his eyes on the road, pushing the car to its limits.

"Faster, Chris," I urged, my voice betraying the anxiety I felt.

The truth was, my relationship with my father had always been complicated. He was a man of power, a figure who commanded respect wherever he went. But he was also distant, cold even, never showing the warmth a father should to his son. Still, he was my father, and the thought of losing him brought a tightness to my chest that I couldn't shake.

The car skidded to a stop in front of the hospital, and I was out the door before Chris could even fully park. My feet carried me through the entrance and down the sterile, white corridors, the harsh lighting adding to the surreal feeling of the moment. I reached the reception desk, and the nurse looked up, recognizing me instantly.

"Mr. Randolph, your father is in the ICU," she said, her tone a mixture of professionalism and sympathy. "Room 312."

I didn't waste time thanking her. My heart skipped as I made my way to the room. When I finally reached the door, I paused, my hand hovering over the handle. I wasn't sure what I was going to find on the other side, and the fear of the unknown made me hesitate. But only for a moment. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

There he was. The man who had always seemed larger than life now lay in a hospital bed, surrounded by machines that beeped and hummed softly. His eyes were closed, his face pale and drawn. The sight of him like this hit me harder than I expected, and for a moment, I just stood there, unable to move.

"Ziah..." Jessie's voice broke through the fog in my mind. She was standing at the foot of the bed, her usual confident demeanor replaced with something more vulnerable, almost fragile.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

She looked at me, her eyes filled with something I couldn't quite place-was it guilt? Fear? "He collapsed during a meeting," she said quietly. "The doctors say it was a heart attack. They're doing everything they can."

I swallowed hard, trying to process the information. A heart attack. My father, the man who seemed indestructible, had been brought down by something as common as a heart attack. The irony wasn't lost on me, but there was no time to dwell on it.

I moved closer to the bed, my eyes fixed on the frail figure of my father. "Is he... is he going to be okay?"

Jessie hesitated, then nodded slowly. "The doctors are optimistic, but it's still touch and go. He's a fighter, Ziah. You know that."

I did know that. My father had always been a fighter, someone who never backed down from a challenge. But seeing him like this made me realize how fragile life really was, how quickly things could change.

I reached out and took his hand in mine. It was cold, a stark contrast to the warmth I remembered from my childhood. "Dad... I'm here," I said, not sure if he could hear me, but needing to say the words anyway. "You're going to get through this."

The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the steady beeping of the heart monitor. I could feel Jessie's eyes on me, but I didn't look at her. I couldn't. My mind was too focused on the man lying in the bed, the man who had shaped so much of who I was.

As the minutes ticked by, I found myself thinking about all the things I had never said to him, all the unresolved issues between us. I squeezed his hand tighter, as if that could somehow make up for all the lost time.

"Ziah..." Jessie's voice was soft, almost hesitant. I finally looked up at her, and for the first time, I saw something in her eyes that I hadn't seen before-vulnerability.

"What is it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She bit her lip, as if unsure of how to say what was on her mind. "I... I think there's something you should know."

My heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"

She took a deep breath, as if bracing herself. "I wasn't entirely honest with you about... everything. There's more to this, Ziah. More than just a heart attack."

Her words sent a chill down my spine. "What are you talking about, Jessie?"

She hesitated again, then finally spoke. "Your father was under a lot of stress, Ziah. And... some of it was because of me."

Her admission hung in the air between us, heavy and ominous. I stared at her, trying to make sense of what she was saying.

"What do you mean, because of you?" I demanded, my voice rising.

She looked away, unable to meet my eyes. "There were... things I was pressuring him about. Things that... maybe I shouldn't have."

Anger flared in my chest, but I pushed it down. Now wasn't the time. "We'll talk about this later," I said, my voice tight. "Right now, I need to focus on my father."

Jessie nodded, and for a moment, we were both silent, the tension between us palpable.

As I sat there, holding my father's hand, I couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to change. My world had already been turned upside down, but I knew that whatever Jessie had to say could only make things worse.