The Father's Bombshell

VANESSA

Time seemed to blur in the sterile hospital room. The rhythmic beep of monitors and the soft hiss of oxygen became the soundtrack to my worst nightmare. Outside the window, day had turned to night and back to day again, but I hadn't moved from Fabian's side.

My body ached from sitting in the same position for hours. My eyes burned from exhaustion. But I couldn't leave him. I wouldn't.

"You need to eat something."

Roman's voice broke through my trance. I looked up to see him standing in the doorway, holding a paper bag that smelled like the sandwich shop down the street.

"I'm not hungry," I mumbled, my voice raspy from disuse.

He sighed and set the bag on the small table beside me. "You've barely eaten in two days, Vanessa. You'll be no good to Fabian if you collapse."

I wanted to argue, but he was right. Reluctantly, I reached for the bag and pulled out a turkey sandwich. My stomach growled traitorously as the scent hit me.