I dashed to his side, tears already welling, blurring my vision.
“What’s going on?” I demanded, my voice trembling as panic coursed through me. “What happened?!”
He inhaled slowly, pain etched across his features, and then nodded slightly towards Domino, who was standing close beside me, quiet. “Give us a minute.”
Domino didn’t question it. He gave me a quick look—one that said I’m right outside—then stepped out, closing the door behind him.
Now it was just us... the relentless hum of the machines... and the unforgiving truth we could no longer avoid.
I turned back to him, desperation clawing at my insides. “Talk to me.”
He didn’t drag it out. “It’s cancer.”
“W-What?”
“Prostate... stage four,” he clarified, each word punctuated by a sense of finality.
The swell of tears nearly spilled as I struggled to process the devastating reality.
“Stage four? That’s… that’s advanced.”
“It is,” he confirmed, his tone steady yet filled with sorrow.
“We just met…” My voice faltered, drifting into the depths of despair. “And now you’re about to leave me again? I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready to lose you,” I admitted, the rawness of my heartbreak seeping through my defenses.
“I know; nobody ever is. And I wish I had more time to give you,” he said, and his words shattered something deep within me.
For a fleeting moment, I looked down for a second, trying to steady myself, then back at him. “When did you find out?”
“I’ve known for over a year now.”
“A year?” My voice cracked, but I didn’t raise it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to worry you… not with everything you already had on your plate. Your brother… your life… I wasn’t about to add to that.”
“So you just… handled it alone? Act like nothing was wrong?”
“I handled it the only way I knew how… quietly… without putting fear in the people I care about. Sometimes strength doesn’t look like noise, Ajori; sometimes it’s just carrying what you can without letting it spill onto everybody else.”
My chest tightened painfully at his words, feeling the weight of his choice pressing down on me.
“And you’re at peace with dying?”
He gave a small nod, his eyes reflecting a lifetime of wisdom. “I am. Fighting this battle takes energy, and energy is something I don’t have much of these days. I’m not accepting it like it’s nothing; I’m accepting it for what it is.”
My father paused, glancing deeper into my eyes, searching for understanding.
“Ajori, I’ve lived my life and made my choices—some good, some not—but one thing I will never regret isyou.I never stopped loving you… not one day. Even when I wasn’t there the way I should’ve been, I loved you from wherever I was.”
A lump formed in my throat, and I shook my head slightly, trying to dismiss the tear that threatened to cascade down my cheek.
“I never wanted perfect parents, just present ones.”
“I know. And I’m sorry it took me so long to understand that. But I’m grateful for the time I did get with you… even if it came late. Not everybody gets a second chance to fix what they broke. Now I can leave this world knowing I got to look my daughter in her eyes, talk to her, hear her voice, and see the beautiful and strong woman she became.”
I felt an ache in my heart, not just for what was fading but for the little time we had shared.
“Thatmatters to me more than anything. So if no one ever tells you, always know that you’re stronger than you think, capable, and full of heart. You carried your brother through something most people wouldn’t survive, that’s how I know you’ll always be okay.”
