Page 125 of Dirty Cowboy

Julian and Tristan return moments later, rolling a wheelchair into the room. My sharp inhale stabs right in the middle of my chest.

Dad.

My heart leaps as I take in the sight of him. He’s smiling, whole, and alive.

“Daddy?” My voice trembles, tears burning at the corners of my eyes.

He looks better and stronger. His cheeks are fuller, and his eyes shine brighter. The man who had been slipping away, who I thought I might never see like this again, is here.

“You’re here?” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.

He grins as my brothers wheel him closer to the bed. “Of course, I am, sweetheart,” he says, his voice hoarse but steady. “I had to see my girl.”

Julian and Tristan step back, leaving me alone with my parents.

Dad reaches for my hand, his grip warm and reassuring. The instant our fingers touch, peace settles inside me.

“And I’ve got good news,” he continues, his smile widening. “The last round of chemo worked. The doctors are saying I’m in remission.”

The air rushes from my lungs and for a moment, the entire world stills as relief crashes over me, warm and overwhelming. Tears spill over, and I squeeze his hand, my entire body shaking with emotion.

“You… You’re gonna be okay?” My voice wobbles.

His fingers tighten around mine. “I’m gonna be okay, sweetheart. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

A sob escapes my throat, and I don’t even try to hold it back. I clutch his hand like I’ll never let go. For the first time in what feels like forever, something is right.

Dad is okay.

“Dad, that’s amazing,” I whisper. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I’m so sorry I left.”

“This wasn't your battle to fight,” he murmurs. “And fuck cancer.” A small, tired smile tugs at his lips.

A tear slips down my cheek. “Fuck cancer,” I echo.

His grip tightens around my hand, grounding me. “Had a little setback while you were gone,” he admits, “but looks like I’ll get to walk you down the aisle after all.”

I stiffen. The thought of a wedding, of walking down an aisle, twists something sharp inside me. My chest aches as I force myself to smile. “I’m not sure there will be a wedding, Daddy.”

Dad studies me for a long beat, then chuckles softly, wiping away my tears with the rough pad of his thumb.

“Everything’s gonna wrk out. I promise,” he says, voice full of certainty. “Emma, you’ve loved the man for years, and that kind of love doesn’t just disappear.” His gaze turns serious, his blue eyes mirroring my own. “Don’t let a mistake, or fear, steer you away from love. Forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. It means finding a way forward.”

I swallow hard, his words settling deep. Am I ready to look for a way forward? Is it too late?

The doubt coils tighter around my chest. It’s suffocating, because honestly, I don’t know if I can live without him.

Dad’s hand lingers on mine, his warmth seeping into my skin. Then his expression changes. Something shifts in his eyes, and a shadow falls over his face.

“Emma, honey,” he says gently, “I don’t know if anyone’s told you yet, but… Eric’s grandfather passed away. His funeral was yesterday.”

The air rushes from my lungs and a sharp, searing ache rips through my chest.

“Grandpa Albert?” My voice is barely a whisper.

Mom rushes to my other side and squeezes my hand, her eyes full of quiet sympathy. “He had a heart attack. There was nothing anyone could do.”

My breath catches, the grief hitting like a tidal wave. Albert was like a grandfather to me too. Steady, kind, and always there.

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