A great story always had structure.

But life wasn’t a great story.

Real life was a mess of words that sometimes worked, and other times didn’t. Real life was an array of emotions that hardly made sense. Real life was a first draft novel with scribbles and crossed out sentences, all written in crayon.

It wasn’t beautiful. It came without warning. It came without ease.

And when the novel of real life came to fuck you up, it made sure to knock the air from your lungs and leave your bleeding heart for the wolves.

The message was from Karla.

She tried to call me, but I sent her to voicemail.

I was looking at Talon.

She left a voice message, but I ignored it.

I was staring into Lucille’s eyes.

She then sent me a text message that made a part of me die.

Dad’s in the hospital.

He had another heart attack.

Please come home.

I took the next flight home, my hands clenched the whole time, too nervous to take a full breath. When the plane landed, I grabbed the first taxi I could find and rushed to the hospital. Hurrying inside, I felt like my chest was on fire. The burning sensation shook me as I tried to blink away the emotion racing through my veins.

He must be okay.

He has to be okay…

If Professor Oliver didn’t make it through this, I wasn’t certain I’d survive. I wasn’t certain I’d survive if he wasn’t going to always be there for me. When I made it to the waiting room, my eyes fell to Mary and Karla first. Then, I noticed Lucy sitting with Talon sleeping in her lap. How long had she been there? How had she even known? I hadn’t mentioned I was coming back. Every time I’d tried to type out the words, I’d deleted them instantly. If I sent out the words that Professor Oliver had had a heart attack, it would be real. If I’d thought it was real, I would’ve died on the flight home for sure.

It couldn’t be real.

He couldn’t die.

Talon wouldn’t even remember him.

She needed to remember the greatest man in the world.

She needed to know my father.

“How did you know?” I asked Lucy, walking over and gently kissing Talon’s forehead.

Lucy nodded over to Karla. “She called me. I came right away.”

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“I’m okay.” Lucy grimaced, took my hand in hers, and lightly squeezed it. “Are you?”

I narrowed my eyes and swallowed hard, speaking so low that I wasn’t certain the word actually left my lips. “No.”

My eyes darted over to Mary and I told Lucy I’d be back. She told me to take all the time I needed. I was thankful for that, for her watching over Talon, for her being there for my daughter and for me while I needed to be there for others.

“Mary,” I said, calling after her. She looked up and my heart cracked seeing the pain in her stare. Karla’s broken stare cracked my heart once more.

“Graham,” Mary cried, hurrying over to me.

I wrapped my arms around her, holding her so close to me. She parted her mouth to say more, but no words came out. She began sobbing uncontrollably, as did her daughter, who I pulled into the tight hug. I held them both against me, trying to convince their shaky bodies that everything would be okay.

I stood tall like a tree, not shaking because they needed me as their foundation. They needed strength, and I played the role.

Because that was what he would’ve wanted me to be.

Brave.

“What happened?” I asked Mary once she could calm down. I led her to the waiting room chairs, and we sat down.

Her back was curved as she clasped her fingers together, a little tremble still in her soul. “He was in his office reading, and when I went to check on him…” Her bottom lip started to tremble. “I have no clue how long he was down. If I could’ve gotten there faster…if…”

“No ifs, just now,” I told her. “You did everything you could. This isn’t your fault, Mary.”

She nodded. “I know, I know. We’ve been preparing for this day, but I just didn’t think it would come so soon. I thought we had more time.”

“Preparing?” I asked, confused.

She grimaced and tried to wipe away her tears, but more continued to fall. “He didn’t want me to tell you…”

“Tell me what?”

“He’s been sick for a while, Graham. A few months ago, he was told if he didn’t have surgery, he’d only have a few months before his heart gave out. The surgery was very risky, too, and he didn’t want to do it. Not after all the surgeries he had beforehand. I fought long and hard to get him to do it, but he was too afraid he’d go in that day and not come back, instead of spending each and every day he had left surrounded by love.”

He knew?

“Why didn’t he tell me?” I asked, a bit of anger rising in my chest.

She took my hands in hers and lowered her voice. “He didn’t want you to push him away. He thought if you learned about his sickness, you’d become cold, to protect yourself from feeling too much. He knew you’d go deeper into your mind, and that idea broke his heart, Graham. He was so terrified of losing you, because you were his son. You are our son, and if you left during his final days…he would’ve left this world brokenhearted.”

My chest was tight and it took everything inside of me to not cry. I lowered my head a bit and shook it back and forth. “He’s my best friend,” I told her.

“And you are his,” she replied.

We waited and waited for the doctors to come tell us what was happening. When one finally returned, he cleared his throat. “Mrs. Evans?” he asked. We all shot up from our chairs, our nerves shot.

“Yes, I’m right here,” Mary replied as I took her trembling hand in mine.

Be brave.

“Your husband suffered from heart failure. He’s in the ICU on breathing machines, and the truth of the matter is that if those came off, there’s a significant chance he wouldn’t make it. I’m so sorry. I know this is a lot to take in. I can arrange for you to meet with a specialist to help you decide what the best choice is for moving forward.”

“You mean we have to decide to either unplug the machines or keep him in his current state?” Mary asked.