Page 40 of Judge

MY PHONE BUZZES LOUDLY on my bedside table. Blinking my eyes open and adjusting to the bright light on my phone, the time displays four am and Liam's fucking name. Why the fuck is my brother calling me this early? It better not have anything to do with Eleanor.

“What?” I answer.

“Dad’s been taken to the hospital. Suspected heart attack.” Liam's voice sounds panicked and afraid.

“Okay, well, call me again when he’s dead.” I go to hang up, but Liam's disappointed sigh deafens me.

“Roman, I know you and Dad have your differences, but you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you didn’t make peace with that and he dies tonight.”

I mull on his words, a heaviness creeping over my chest. Could I? I don’t know if it’s possible to. There’re too many haunting memories that no amount of apology could erase. Not that I would ever get an admission from him, he is too stubborn and proud.

I sigh, resigned to the fact that, at the end of it all, he’s still my father. "I’m on my way now.”

I hang up the phone, my hands strangely shaking as I dress quickly and drive downtown to the hospital. I don’t know why; I didn’t think I’d be affected like this. Maybe it’s the whole we share the same blood bond thing that has me pulling into the hospital car park erratically. Maybe it’s guilt for not being the perfect son he wanted me to be. I don’t fucking know. It would take a shrink twenty years to dissect my feelings towards my father, so I’m not even going to bother to try. I knew Dad wasn’t well, but I never suspected he was this bad. Although, in the last few years, he’s slowed, his salt and pepper hair now more snow, and the creases around his eyes grow more predominant every day.

When my grandfather died, I watched my dad age ten years in a single week from the stress and heartache. He admired his father so much, yet always fell short in his shadow. His death hit my father hard. He was well respected and somewhat of a tolerable man, yet always kept everyone at arm's length. Much like my father, and the reality hits me and sours in the pit of my stomach... Just. Like. Me.

When I enter my father's hospital room, the stark white sheet covering his torso is a vast contrast to the darkness that lies underneath. My dad’s cold heartbeat is being monitored on the small screen next to his bed and a breathing tube is wedged up his nose. For the first time in my life, he looks weak. A shadow of the man that normally exudes so much power and fortitude. His eyes are closed, his face a pale grey.

“You came.” Liam’s gruff voice comes from the corner of the room.

“I said I would.”

“You say a lot of things you don’t mean.”

“Really, Liam. You want to start this shit now? Have some decorum, for fuck’s sake.”

He lets out a frustrated breath and steps forward, looking at Dad.

“He needs surgery. The nurses will be back any moment to prep him.”

I nod.

“It’s risky.”

“I imagine it would be,” I reply, not knowing what else to say. Liam and I don’t ever have a conversation that is not one of us abusively yelling at one another. We’ve never been close. I am competition, and he’s always resented me for being the first-born son. He may be a good lawyer, but Liam lacks the discipline needed to run the company. He’s more concerned with what people think of him than getting the job done as needed. He does not have the stomach, nor the balls, to follow through on half the shit I have had to deal with, and deep down, my father knows it. I guess that’s why he feels the need to be so hard on me. His threats of giving Liam the company if I don’t sharpen my pencil are empty, because we both know Liam is not capable.

“Have you let Conrad know?”

“Of course, I have.” He glares at me. “He has an exam tomorrow, so I told him we will keep him updated.”

The nurses come and prep my father as Liam, and I are ushered out of the room and directed to sit in the waiting area. This place is depressing, the smell is nauseating, and the company I am forced to keep for the next four hours is intolerable. I keep looking at my watch as Liam nods in and out of sleep. He may be a prick of a brother, but he’s here. I’ll give him that, at least.

All this time, sitting and waiting makes me anxious. I hate sitting still. I hate not doing something. If I had my laptop, I could be doing some work, but instead, I’m forced to sit here and wait with all my fucking thoughts. The ones I’m struggling the most with are of Indie. I can’t get her out of my head, and it’s pissing me right off.

I find myself wondering where she is at this exact moment and what she is doing. I imagine her to be wandering the city taking pictures, her sad eyes capturing everyone else living their lives but herself. Our time together over the past months plays endlessly, over and over, in my head. I know the man she thinks I am. She is right and smart to stay away from me, but I’m too selfish to let her go. I want her, and despite her best efforts, I will not stop till I have her.

In truth, we both know I’m incapable of keeping her, but perhaps, if I just have her for the smallest of time, it will satiate me enough to get over her and move on and marry Georgina like my father wants. It’s a shitty thing to think, yet, I’m a shitty person and have done it time and time again. I’ve pursued women I should not have for years now in the hope that they will finally be the one who pushes me toward the path my father desires. I just keep thinking if I have my fill now, then perhaps I could be content with Georgina. It makes me ass, I know, but I don’t ever want to be the husband to Georgina that my father was to my mother. That Liam is to his wife. She does not deserve that. I don’t love her, and most likely never will, but if she becomes my wife, I’ll protect her and be a loyal husband. I will not be the cause of her unhappiness or pain.

The double doors fling open and a doctor in scrubs emerges heading my way. I stand abruptly, kicking Liam awake. He snorts and fumbles to his feet, rubbing his eyes.

“Your father is in recovery now; his surgery went well. It’ll be a little while before he will be up for visitors, so you both should go home and get some rest. You can come back later this afternoon.”

“I won’t be going anywhere until I see my father,” Liam retorts. “We’ll see him now. Do you have any idea who we are?”

God, he is such an ass. This doctor just saved our father’s life, and he’s speaking to him like a piece of shit.

“Thank you, Doctor.” I smile apologetically to him. “We will wait.”

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