Chapter 1
1803 Words
Chapter One
Elena Monroe tightened her grip on the steering wheel as rain hammered violently against her windshield.
Seattle traffic crawled endlessly beneath the gray evening sky, headlights reflecting across the wet streets in blurred streaks of gold and white. Normally, Elena hated driving in heavy rain. She hated unnecessary speed even more.
Tonight, she ignored both.
Her chest felt painfully tight as she switched lanes too quickly, earning an angry horn from another driver. She barely noticed it.
Her father had been hospitalized for weeks.
Weeks.
And somehow she had not known how serious it truly was until this morning.
The realization sat heavily in her stomach like guilt she could not swallow away.
The windshield wipers moved rapidly, but they did little to clear the blur in front of her. Her thoughts were louder than the storm outside.
How bad was it?
Why had nobody told her sooner?
Why had her father hidden it from her?
Elena inhaled shakily and tightened her jaw.
Because he always hides things.
Cameron Monroe had spent his entire life protecting people from worry, especially her. Even after her mother’s death years ago, he had smiled through his own grief simply to keep Elena from breaking apart completely.
That was the kind of man he was.
Quiet.
Self-sacrificing.
Stubborn.
Her fingers tightened against the steering wheel.
The phone call from the family doctor replayed mercilessly inside her mind.
“Miss Monroe, your father’s condition has become unstable. It would be best if you came to the hospital as soon as possible.”
Unstable.
Doctors only used careful words when the truth was far worse.
A cold ache spread through Elena’s chest.
She should have noticed earlier.
The signs had been there for months.
The exhaustion in her father’s face.
The sudden weight loss.
The way he occasionally paused to catch his breath while pretending nothing was wrong.
But Elena had been distracted.
Research presentations.
University responsibilities.
Conferences.
Deadlines.
Her entire life had become schedules and routines and responsibilities so carefully organized that she had failed to see the one thing truly falling apart in front of her.
Guilt crawled beneath her skin.
The hospital building finally appeared through the rain.
Relief hit her so suddenly that it almost hurt.
Elena parked carelessly near the entrance without bothering to find a proper space. The moment the engine stopped, she grabbed her coat and rushed out into the storm.
Rain immediately soaked through her sleeves and dark hair as cold wind struck her face.
She barely noticed.
The sliding hospital doors opened automatically, warm air rushing toward her alongside the familiar sharp scent of antiseptic and polished floors.
“Miss Monroe?”
A nurse behind the reception desk stood quickly.
“Elena Monroe,” Elena said breathlessly. “My father—Cameron Monroe. Room number?”
The nurse’s expression softened immediately with recognition.
“Fourth floor. Room 407.”
Elena nodded once before heading straight toward the elevators.
Everything around her felt painfully loud.
The distant sound of machines.
Footsteps against tile floors.
Muted conversations.
The low squeak of moving hospital beds.
Hospitals had always unsettled her.
Too much uncertainty.
Too much waiting.
Too many silent fears hanging in the air.
The elevator doors opened slowly, and Elena stepped inside alone.
As the doors closed again, silence surrounded her completely.
For the first time since receiving the call, panic settled fully into her chest.
What if she was too late?
Her breathing became uneven.
No.
No, her father was strong.
He would be fine.
He had to be.
The elevator reached the fourth floor with a soft ding.
Elena stepped out quickly and walked through the quiet hallway, her heels echoing sharply against the polished floor. Nurses moved calmly around her, but everything felt strangely distant, as though she were walking underwater.
Room 407.
She stopped outside the door.
Suddenly, she could not move.
Fear wrapped itself tightly around her throat.
Her hand trembled slightly beside her.
Then slowly, Elena pushed the door open.
The first thing she noticed was the sound.
The steady beeping of medical monitors.
Then she saw him.
Her father looked smaller somehow.
Weaker.
The sight hit her harder than she expected.
Cameron Monroe rested against white pillows beneath dim hospital lighting, an oxygen tube resting beneath his nose. His face looked pale and thinner than she remembered, dark shadows visible beneath tired eyes.
For a moment, Elena forgot how to breathe.
“Dad?”
Her voice came out softer than intended.
Cameron slowly turned his head toward her.
And smiled.
The sight nearly broke her.
“There she is,” he said weakly.
Elena crossed the room quickly.
“What happened?” she demanded quietly, though fear shook beneath every word. “Why didn’t you tell me things were this serious?”
Cameron sighed faintly. “You were busy.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“You had work.”
“You’re my father.”
Emotion cracked through her voice unexpectedly.
Elena looked away immediately, frustrated with herself.
She hated crying.
Hated emotional scenes.
Hated feeling out of control.
But seeing him lying there—
Fragile.
Weak.
Human.
—it terrified her more than she wanted to admit.
Cameron studied her quietly before patting the chair beside his bed.
“Sit down.”
Elena obeyed reluctantly.
For a few moments, neither spoke.
Rain tapped softly against the hospital windows while machines continued their endless rhythm beside them.
“You look tired,” Cameron murmured.
Elena frowned slightly. “You’re in a hospital bed, and you’re criticizing me?”
A faint laugh escaped him.
“Good. You still sound like yourself.”
Elena lowered her gaze briefly.
“You should have told me.”
His smile faded slightly.
“I didn’t want you worrying.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make.”
Silence settled again.
Then Cameron spoke quietly.
“You’ve always carried too much responsibility.”
Elena blinked in surprise.
“What?”
“You work constantly. You isolate yourself.” He watched her carefully. “You think being strong means handling everything alone.”
Elena looked away immediately.
“I’m fine.”
“That’s exactly my point.”
She remained silent.
Because arguing would only prove him correct.
Cameron sighed softly before turning his gaze toward the rain-covered window.
“Do you ever think about your future?”
Elena frowned.
“My future?”
“Yes.”
“My career is fine.”
“I’m not talking about your career.”
The meaning behind his words became painfully obvious.
Elena immediately stiffened.
“Dad—”
“I worry about you.”
“There’s nothing to worry about.”
“You spend all your time alone.”
“I prefer peace and quiet.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
Elena exhaled slowly through her nose.
Marriage discussions again.
She should have expected it eventually.
Ever since turning thirty-two, every distant relative suddenly seemed concerned about her unmarried status.
The truth was simple.
Elena had never cared much for romance.
Relationships felt confusing.
Complicated.
Emotionally exhausting.
People expected hidden meanings behind words and gestures that Elena often failed to understand properly.
It was easier focusing on work.
Easier organizing her life around logic and routine instead of feelings she struggled to interpret.
“I’m happy,” she said calmly.
Cameron looked unconvinced.
“You’re lonely.”
The words landed harder than she expected.
Elena opened her mouth to argue—
Then stopped.
Because part of her hated how accurate they sounded.
Before she could respond, a soft knock interrupted the silence.
The hospital door opened slowly.
Elena turned instinctively—
And froze.
A man stepped inside carrying a paper bag and two coffee cups.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Dark-haired.
Rainwater still clung lightly to the sleeves of his black coat.
For one strange second, Elena forgot what the conversation had even been about.
The man stopped walking the moment he noticed her.
Dark eyes met hers directly.
There was something unexpectedly intense about his gaze.
Not cold.
Not arrogant.
Just… focused.
As though he had not expected her to be there either.
Cameron smiled immediately.
“Perfect timing.”
Elena frowned slightly.
The stranger recovered first, stepping further into the room.
“I can come back later,” he offered quietly.
“No,” Cameron replied. “Come inside.”
The man nodded once before approaching the bed.
Up close, Elena noticed paint stains faintly visible near his fingers despite the expensive coat he wore.
An artist?
“That traffic outside is terrible,” he muttered while handing Cameron one of the coffee cups.
“Seattle enjoys suffering,” Cameron replied dryly.
A quiet laugh escaped the man.
The sound surprised Elena slightly.
Warm.
Low.
Comfortable.
Cameron suddenly looked between them.
“Elena, this is Adrian Hayes.”
The name felt vaguely familiar.
Then realization clicked instantly.
Halloway Art Gallery.
Of course.
Even Elena, who rarely followed the art world closely, recognized the name. Adrian Hayes was one of Seattle’s most respected contemporary painters.
Adrian extended his hand politely.
“Elena.”
She shook it automatically.
His hand was warm.
“Nice to meet you,” he said.
“You too.”
The response sounded awkward even to her own ears.
Something unreadable flickered briefly across Adrian’s face before disappearing.
Cameron watched both of them carefully from the hospital bed.
Far too carefully.
Elena noticed immediately.
A strange feeling settled uneasily in her stomach.
“What?” she asked suspiciously.
Cameron smiled innocently.
“Nothing.”
Which usually meant absolutely something.
Adrian seemed to notice the tension too because amusement briefly touched his expression.
It changed his entire face.
Dangerously attractive.
Elena immediately looked away.
This was ridiculous.
Her father was in the hospital.
Why was she suddenly aware of another person’s smile?
Cameron cleared his throat lightly.
“Elena, Adrian’s been helping me manage a few gallery investments while I’ve been here.”
“I see.”
“He practically lives at this hospital now,” Cameron added dramatically.
Adrian sighed. “That’s an exaggeration.”
“You were here yesterday.”
“You guilt-trip people professionally.”
“True.”
Elena watched the interaction quietly.
They were clearly close.
Comfortable with each other in a way that suggested years of familiarity.
Adrian handed the second coffee cup toward Elena.
“You look like you need this.”
She hesitated briefly before accepting it.
“Thank you.”
Their fingers brushed slightly.
A small thing.
Meaningless.
Yet something strange moved through her chest anyway.
Elena frowned faintly at herself.
What was wrong with her tonight?
Cameron suddenly leaned back against his pillows with a satisfied expression.
And for some reason, that expression worried Elena deeply.
Because it looked exactly like the face her father made whenever he was planning something.
- Writer
