Page 42 of Hearts of Wealth

“He can’t leave me,” I whispered, my voice breaking with emotion. “I need him.”

Timothy squeezed my hand, his eyes filled with empathy as he led me away from the bedside. “We need to go,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “We need to make it to the other hospital.”

“Just a second.”

I stepped up to the side of his bed and leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Dad, don’t you dare leave me. I’m not ready for that. You’re going to get your surgery, and you will be okay. Do you hear me? I am going to be waiting for you to come out of surgery.”

A few more people came into the room, crowding us out. Timothy carefully guided me out of the room while they bundled him up. “Can I go with him?” I asked anyone that was listening.

“I already asked,” Timothy said. “It would be better if we drove. They’re going to have nurses and equipment on board. They need the room.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, refusing to believe the last time I was going to see him was lying in that bed. “Okay.”

We walked back to the waiting area where Luke was still pacing.

“The helicopter is here,” Timothy said. “I need to get her to the city. Can you lock up the shop? I need to call Paisley.”

“I’ll lock the shop, and if you don’t mind, I’ll go up to the house and pick up Paisley and take her to the hospital.”

“Thank you,” Timothy said gratefully. “I appreciate it. I know she’ll want to be there for Catherine.”

I listened to them make the arrangements, but it felt like I was far away. It was an out of body experience. Somewhere in my head, I was searching for a clue that this was just another nightmare. I was at home in bed.

But Timothy’s arm around me felt too real. “Where’s your purse?” Timothy asked as we walked outside.

“I don’t know,” I murmured.

“That’s fine. You don’t need it.”

“My truck,” I said.

“It’ll be here.”

“My keys. I think I left my keys in the truck.”

He put me in his car and then jogged over to lock up my truck. A minute later, he was pulling out of the parking lot. As Timothy drove us to the hospital in New York City, the world outside blurred into a hazy backdrop. Every passing moment felt like an eternity. I was thinking about everything I needed to do. I had to lock up his apartment. There would be clients waiting on jobs. I would have to call them. Timothy’s hands gripped the steering wheel with a fierce determination, his jaw set in a steely resolve. But despite his efforts to maintain his composure, I could sense the tension radiating off him in waves.

I sat beside him in silence, my own thoughts consumed by the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. There was just no way I could lose my father. I refused to bury him. I wasn’t ready. Period.

As we arrived at the hospital and made our way to the waiting room, I felt a sense of numbness settle over me. My legs moved of their own accord, carrying me forward in a haze of uncertainty. Timothy brought me a cup of coffee. I dutifully sipped it, but I tasted nothing. I kept checking the clock. Every minute that passed seemed to drag on for an hour, each tick from the second hand echoing loud in my ears. It was a strange sensation, the anticipation of waiting, the fear of what might come.

As the hours passed, Timothy never left my side. His quiet presence was comforting. I couldn’t sit still. I paced the room restlessly, my heart pounding in my chest, my hands trembling with nervous energy. The dark thoughts wouldn’t stop coming. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing my dad, of facing a future without him by my side. A wave of powerful grief and fear slammed into me, knocking the air from my lungs.

Suddenly, Timothy was there, enveloping me in a warm embrace. I melted into his arms, the weight of my fears crashing over me. Tears streamed down my cheeks, my body shaking with the force of my sobs. I wasn’t strong enough.

“I love you,” I whispered, the words tumbling from my lips in a desperate plea.

He kissed my forehead gently, his lips warm against my skin. “I love you too,” he murmured. “Just have faith. He’s getting the best care here. These guys are experts. He’s in good hands. This is the hard part. I know it sucks, but we just have to wait. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be by your side through whatever comes our way.”

I felt a glimmer of peace wash over me, knowing that no matter what the future held, we would face it together. It would be beyond difficult, but I was confident Timothy would stand by me. The wave of grief subsided and I was able to breathe once again.

“Why don’t you sit and I’ll get you something to drink,” Timothy said. “Something sugary. I know you’re not going to eat, but you’re going to need the fuel.”

“Are you Catherine Jacobsen?”

I spun around and saw a doctor in green scrubs. My heart skipped a beat, a knot forming in the pit of my stomach. I braced myself for the worst, steeling my resolve for whatever news he delivered.

“Yes,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

Timothy stood beside me, once again supporting my weight.