Chapter 33: Chapter 33

A year earlier

◆ MILES ◆

It would take the uninvited prick another minute before he could reach Paul's unit on the top floor, but I couldn't risk it.

My skin crawled at the mere thought of having to interact with the guy again. So I rushed out of the crowded living room full of drunks to fulfill a stupid dare, just so I would not have to deal with unnecessary drama tonight.

It was my best friend's birthday, and I shouldn't steal the spotlight just 'cause my stubborn ex couldn't take a damn hint. I'd already told my friends not to tell Niccolo I was here and they agreed, but on the condition that I'd finish the dare. It was my turn in the Spin The Bottle game they were trying to kill time with.

Quite nervous and gladly alone, I pushed open the door to Paul's bathroom. I thanked my luck when my tired eyes landed on a familiar brunette in dark jeans and a loose sweatshirt. The girl was alone, just reading a book in Paul's bathtub.  "Sorry. I didn't—"

"Hi." The long-haired brunette glanced up from the textbook she held. She smiled warmly at me.

"Hi," I timidly greeted back.

"We've met before."

"Yeah." I smiled back, quite surprised she even remembered. "Paris Fashion Week. A year ago."

"Yeah." The slim brunette sat back in the tub, her head leaning against the tiled wall. "How you been?"

"So-so." I stepped inside the narrow bathroom, glad that I had someone else to talk to for the rest of the night. I'd had vodka and tequila already, but my boredom still plagued me. "You?"

"Prepping for makeup classes."

"I see." I sat on the cold tiles beside the gray tub.

"You went to college together? Paul and RJ?" Mykaela asked.

I forgot her nickname, but I knew it started with a 'K'.  Kyle?  Kaye?  "Yeah."

"I'm sorry.  You need to use the bathroom?" She tried to get up.

"No—  No. I was just..." I glanced to the closed door to make sure I'd locked the doorknob. "Trying to avoid someone."

"Uninvited guest?"

I looked away and crossed my legs together on the floor. "More like, uninvited ex."

"Ah." She nodded and giggled.

"He just parked outside." I heard Niccolo had just arrived, probably to confront me about my father's ex-mistresses and some other shit Niccolo had dug up on my family. Niccolo also sent me some rants about the clan's well-kept secrets. I didn't feed his attention-seeking behavior then;  I wasn't into drama.

"Really?"

"Honestly, I was looking for you because of a stupid dare."

"What?" Mykaela squinted and laughed softly. "They're still at it?"

"Bored out of their minds." I scratched the back of my head and my slightly sweaty nape. I was actually nervous about doing the dare.

"I guess they ran out of beer for beer pong." She chuckled at me. Her grin showed her perfect teeth that livened up her pale green eyes. "What'd they give ya?"

"They told me you're a med student. So, naturally, Paul comes up with this genius idea of me asking you to do a blood pact." I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

She laughed again.

"They're fuckin' wasted. I sincerely apologize for their stupid ideas for killing the time."

"Blood pact?" she repeated. "That's...weird."

"Yeah. Just shit I gotta deal with on a regular basis."

"Simple and doable, though." She chuckled and hopped out of the white bathtub. "Got a Swiss army knife?"

◆

◇ KEL ◇

North Ridge Medical Center

I sat in the consultation room beside the medical center's busy blood bank, recalling bits of my last conversation with my dad.

Daddy Jim had the AB-negative blood type.  The transfusion would be started during surgery according to Dr. Chase, the chief surgeon who took on my dad's case. The tumors were beginning to block his airway.  Surgery was top priority at this point.

"Thank you for being here on time, Mykaela."

I glanced up and smiled at Dr. Chase, a lean and brown-haired man in his 50s.

He took off his white smock and hung a stethoscope over his shoulders, his movements rushed but precise. A paper-filled clipboard was in his hand. He was reading a chart.  Probably Dad's or belonging to another one of his patients.

"Dr. Chase, can I ask you something?" I pressed the wet cotton ball onto my forearm, right on the spot where a cold needle had just drawn blood out from a vein.

"Yes?" he replied without glancing at me.

What I was about to ask was a non-issue, since I'd been told Dr. Chase and his team were the best in the area. Still, a part of me wanted to know the odds. "What're the chances the surgery could...go wrong?"

For a few seconds, Dr. Chase looked at me before he gave his honest reply. "Considering your father's current condition and medical history..." His pale lips compressed into a thin line as he stared. "I know you know, that, a lot could go wrong on that operating table.  I'm not gonna lie or give you guys false hope. But I'll be sure to make all the necessary excisions as efficiently as we can."

With a faint nod, I stared at my hands on my lap until his optimism got across. I shouldn't worry too much. My dad was in good hands. God will help him through the surgery. I was pretty sure.  "Hang in there, Dad," I murmured to myself.

"You can get up now, but, slowly. Stay with your mom and sister in the private room. Take a long nap."

"Thanks, Doctor."

"Good luck with school." The doctor smiled at me.

"Thank you," was all I said in reply. My mom most likely mentioned that I was planning to resume my last years in med school soon.

"See you later. Rest up."

◇

◇ Room 420 ◇

"I miss you, Dad." I wiped away my tears as I clutched the big pillow my dad had slept on. While I rested on my side, I hugged the pillow tight.

His familiar scent didn't fail to evoke some pleasant memories with my Daddy Jim. The spacious private room was white and smelled of medicines and antiseptic, but from time to time, I caught a whiff of my dad's perfume.

Dr. Chase said I should rest, just in case they'd need more of my blood during and after the surgery. Unfortunately for me, sleep wasn't going to make the unbearably insistent thoughts go away. Not this time.

Too bad I just couldn't sleep it all off, or ignore my mother and sister in the corner. They were busy on the phone, planning a dinner date with David's family over the phone, pretending everything was going to be okay.

I stopped acting sleepy when they were done and opted to strike up a conversation. "Mom."

"Yes, sweetheart? Feelin' okay?" My mom regarded me with a concerned look that wrinkled her brows.

"I need to be back in Milan for a shoot next month."

"K, are you serious?" My Mommy Tilda sighed audibly. "You're worried about work?"

Uh-oh.

"Your father's in the OR getting sliced open and you're worried about a photo shoot."

"Mommy..."

My mom shook her head, showing her disappointment in me while tufts of her long brown hair swayed over her porcelain skin.

"They're expecting I'd be there."

"Just stay here."

"Mom..." I sighed in protest. "I told you. I still have scheduled commitments there. They allowed me a three-week leave at most. That's it."

"Mykaela, are we seriously going to argue about this? Right now?"

"Okay. Sorry." I looked away, guilty that I was debating with my mother during this stressful time for our family. "It's just...they're expecting me to fly back soon."

"What about me? You won't even consider what I want?"

I looked to my sister. Jill kept her pale lips shut as she listened to the anxious exchange. "Mommy, it's just..."

"Don't leave again. You can't. Just no." My mom frowned at me again. "It's just a job. Not a career." She used a stern tone now. "You can get another job here. Or just go back to school."

Yep. Of course my mother hadn't asked me to fly back to New York just for a quick break.  My mom actually wanted me home...not just for a couple of weeks so I could visit Dad. She expected I would stay in the country, and just totally forget about my life in Italy.

"Try applying into university again. Get your medical degree. You're not getting younger."

Here we go again...  "I don't have that kind of money right now, Mom." I muffled a sigh with my knuckle while trying not to sound too argumentative. "That's why I can't lose that job."

"No. No. You're not going back to Italy," my mother droned on. "I'm getting that promotion. Then I'll just...get another loan. Don't worry about the bills."

"No. Not another one. Please." I sighed. Merely hearing the word "loan" was enough to make my brain and wallet hurt. My mother would be working till she was 80 if she didn't stop trying to solve our money problems with more bank loans. "Don't get another loan. I'll figure it out."

"Yeah, Mom.  I'll be working again once we find a stay-in nanny," Jill cut in to somehow diffuse the tension. "K and I will split the bills."

I didn't add more to the conversation and just stayed on the bed. We all sat still in my dad's hospital room, the three of us still waiting for some good news from the medical team.

"Just get a job here. Or in the city. Just...don't be too far away again." My mom folded her arms below her chest. Clearly she wasn't going to settle for a compromise about the whole thing.

Oh no.  Jobless.  Career over.  She wanted me to go back to school now. And that meant I'd be jobless again for years.  No steady income.  Just bills, bills, bills.

"Sweetie, just stay here. Please."

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