Lily lay curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped tightly around her. Lucas walked in, glancing at her pale face. His heart sank.
“Hey, kiddo,” he said softly, kneeling beside her. “How are you feeling?”
Lily looked up, her eyes glassy. “Not so good, Daddy.”
Lucas brushed her hair back, worry etched across his face. “What’s wrong? Did you throw up again?”
She nodded weakly. “I want to see you and Desi. Can we have dinner together?”
Lucas hesitated, glancing toward the kitchen. “Dinner? You’re not feeling well, sweetheart.”
“I want to,” she insisted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please, Daddy?”
He sighed, torn between wanting to care for her and wanting to keep her from exerting herself. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to get sicker.”
“I’ll be okay. Just… please,” she pleaded
