Chapter 3 - THE MAN WHO PAID THE HOSPITAL BILLS
My father was sitting in his recliner when I arrived home.
A blanket covered his legs.
The television played quietly.
He looked up.
“Myra?”
I tried to smile.
“Hi, Dad.”
His expression changed.
“What's wrong?”
I sat beside him.
Then told him everything.
Nico.
Chloe.
The bet.
The hospital bills.
By the time I finished, my father was crying.
Not loudly.
Just silently, with one hand covering his face.
“Dad?”
He shook his head.
“I knew.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
He looked at me.
“I knew Leo paid.”
I stared.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
My father swallowed.
“Because Leo asked me not to.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“Why?”
“He said you were already carrying enough.”
My father looked toward the window.
“After the shooting, I told him I couldn't repay him.”
I waited.
“He said I didn't have to.”
My eyes filled.
“Then why did Nico tell me—”
“I don't know.”
My father shook his head.
“But Leo never asked me for anything.”
Silence.
Then he looked at me.
“Myra.”
“Yes?”
“Don't confuse gratitude with love.”
The words hit me harder than anything else that night.
I began crying.
My father reached for my hand.
May you like
And I held it.
Because for the first time, I understood how close I'd come to giving my future to someone who believed it could be purchased.
