Chapter 44: Vee

That first night, I sat at my father’s side and cried my heart out.

I felt so guilty. I wasn’t responsible for the storm or the tree falling on the roof, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was my fault.

I wasn’t someone who cried easily, but here, back in the city where I had grown up, I felt smaller than ever and, at the same time, more myself than I had in the last few years in Los Angeles.

And then, there was Yaron.

I thought he would avoid me. I thought he would hate me. But he had handled my father’s condition—and my arrival—as if nothing had changed between us. As if I hadn’t broken his heart. As if we hadn’t been strangers for almost seven years. My debt to him kept growing.

I didn’t know how having him around would affect me. I was nervous, scared, and completely lost in a life I both loved and hated with equal intensity.

My PA had made sure my flight and transfer from the airport went unnoticed by the press. She had handled all the paperwork so I could return home without my career or life being affected.

To be honest, I didn’t give a shit about the consequences.

I was tired—tired of the excess, the endless nights, the secrets, the hypocrisy, the two-faced people. Even of Raven Black. Going home had suddenly seemed like the perfect escape.

But more than anything, there was my father. No matter how far I had run, I still loved him. I still cared. And I could never abandon him when he truly needed me—especially then, when, for the first time, his suffering wasn’t the result of his own decisions, but of an accident.

I turned and looked at him. He was thinner than the last time I had seen him. New wrinkles lined his face, and his hair had begun to thin. Asleep, he looked like any other father.

I wiped my tears and glanced up at Yaron. His bright blue eyes were fixed on me. His hair was longer than before.

“Vee, what are you doing here?” my father mumbled. “When did you come back?”

I jumped in my seat and smiled at him.

“Hi, Dad! You’re in the hospital. There was an accident and—” My voice caught, and I turned to Yaron, my eyes filled with tears, silently pleading for help.

He studied me for a moment, and then nodded.

“Everything is going to be okay, Luke,” he said. “The doctors are taking care of you. Vee and I are here for you. We love you.”

His voice—so familiar, so missed—sent a wave of warmth through me. The same voice that had once awakened thousands of butterflies in my stomach, soothed and reassured my father and me.

“You look beautiful, Vee...” my father whispered. “ ... like an angel.”

I kissed his hand, pressing it against my cheek.

“You shine, Vee ... You are shining...”

He tried to sit up and moaned. He was in bad shape. Anyone could see that. You didn’t need to be a doctor to know how much pain he was in.

“I’m so tired, Vee,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “I’m so tired of feeling this pain.”

“I’m going to stay for a while,” I promised. “I’m going to take care of you, Dad.”

He shook his head. “I’m going home,” he whispered, his gaze drifting past me to something unseen. A smile touched his lips.

And then, he stopped breathing.

The alarms went off. Doctors and nurses flooded the room, gently pushing us back.

Without thinking, I reached for Yaron’s hand, intertwining my fingers with his. I squeezed, then brought his hand to my lips, pressing a kiss against it before resting it in my lap and holding on tightly.

We sat in silence for what felt like forever—half an hour, maybe more—letting the reality of what had happened settle in.

“Miss Hart?”

I looked up. A doctor stood before me.

“I’m sorry, Miss Hart, but your father is gone,” he said. “He was in bad shape even before the accident. His injuries were too severe, and even though we tried to...”

I didn’t hear the rest.

I had already zoned out.