‘The two of you best take a seat.’
Oh god, that’s not something you want to hear from a parent.
I don’t sit. I can’t. I pace the floor, the pills rattling with every step.
‘I broke into the cabinet. Priscilla has been crushing pills and mixing them into your drinks. Then I heardyou saying how tired you’ve been, and I put two and two together?—’
‘And got a hundred,’ Dad sighs.
‘But I don’t recognise all of these names, so how do you know what she’sreallygiving you.’
‘Maggie.’ My name is as much of an admonishment as anything else.
‘I thought she waspoisoningyou so she could marry you and then kill you. To take control of your business.’
‘Maggie,’ he says again, sharp enough to yank me out of my verbal diarrhoea.
Dad rubs his face, his hand dragging over the wrinkles in exasperation.
‘I have bladder cancer,’ he says.
What?
I understand the individual words, but I cannot put them together in the same thought as my dad. My dad is unstoppable. A force to be reckoned with. Larger than life.
A brittle sob breaks free as I turn to face him.
‘No. You don’t.’
‘I do.’
‘No,’ I raise my voice. ‘You don’t get sick. You’re not old enough for this.’
It’s like my brain shuts down at the very idea of it; it has to be some sort of twisted joke.
Roman reaches out and holds my hand, and I tense at his gentle touch. It’s too kind. I don’t want to cry, but it threatens to send me over the edge.
‘It was caught early,’ Dad says. ‘Veryearly. It’s treatable,and you know my doctor is excellent. I’m not hiding it, I just don’t want to worry anyone before the wedding. There’s no point.’
‘No point?’ My voice cracks. ‘No point in tellingme?’
‘Maggie—’
‘You can’t keep treating us like children, Dad. Especially not when you expect us to do the things you’ve raised us to do.’
After a brief glance at Roman, assessing his reaction to my statement, my Dad sighs. ‘I wanted to make sure things were sorted. That the business wouldn’t be destabilised.’
My laugh is harsh and humourless. ‘So this is about the business?’
‘It’s abouteverything,’ he says. ‘And yes, that includes the business.’
‘It’s always about the fucking business,’ I vent.
‘You’re a good man, I like you.’ Dad directs at Roman.
Roman blinks. ‘Thank you.’
‘But you and Maggie aren’t right for each other.’
