65-Fatherhood and a strange letter

Noah

I placed my hands by my side, taking slow steps towards where my father lay on his bed, I brushed a hand over my hair as I sat on an antique chair, just beside the bed.

"Noah, why haven't you been coming here? Is it because I'm sick or are you waiting for me to die?" I heard my father slowly utter out. I licked my lips, lowering my head as I answered;

"How are you faring, Father?" 

"Don't act like you care, you ill-mannered boy." My father coughed as his clenched fist lifted closer to his lips. 

I let out a deep sigh, trying hard not to speak rashly and bear the consequences.

"I'm sorry, Father. " I abruptly answered. There was a moment of silence between us as my eyes looked around my father's chambers which were a bit dark but the lights lit around every corner of the room making me see him more properly. 

"Get on your knees and apologize, properly." My father demanded.