OLIVIA’S POV
My father slept for two hours after that.
I stayed.
I had told him I was not going anywhere and I meant it. I sat in the chair beside his bed with my hands folded in my lap and watched him sleep the way he used to sit beside my bed when I was sick as a child. Pressing a cold cloth to my forehead. Staying through the night without being asked.
I owed him at least two hours.
The room was peaceful in the way hospital rooms were peaceful when the crisis had passed. The monitor beeped its steady rhythm. A nurse came in once, checked something on the chart, smiled at me softly and left. Outside the window the afternoon moved through its quiet stages toward evening.
I thought about what he had said.
Bring him to see me. When I am a little stronger.
I turned that over slowly.
