ONE

Vida had always hated flying; it was one of the things that came with luxury that she did not fancy. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she heard the pilot announce descent. She had never taken off the seatbelt and had been strapped since she got on the plane. If not for the love she had for her father, she would never think of getting on a plane.

When James, her father's assistant, called and told him that her father was sick, she wished within her that it was just one of her father's ploys to get her back home after all that had been what he had been trying to do for a long while. He sent her abroad to study and after her education, she decided she wanted to be an independent woman who would make a name for herself. Her father, however, had other plans and wanted her home immediately.

"Thank you for flying Zenith Airway," she zoned out, and that was all she heard.

As soon as she touched down in the city, she was out of the airport gates in a cab and on the way to the hospital, where her father was admitted. Her father was as strong as an oak tree so if he was admitted, then it must have been serious. James had told her that she needed to come see her father; he did not say it but she heard it loud and clear. "If you do not come now, the next time I call might be for a funeral."

That morning, she called her boss at work and told him that she needed to go home to see her father, even though he did not understand, she travelled anyway. She was not working because she needed money to survive, but because she felt the need to work for some kind of fulfilment.

"St. Monica's hospital," she murmured just enough for the driver to hear her as she slid into the back of the cab. When James called her, he asked if she would be coming, to which she responded. "I am not sure." If she had made her intentions known to him, then he would have been there to get her. Then there would be images of her circulating the entire city in a few hours.

She got out of the car and rushed to the hospital, asking directions until she finally made her way to her dad's room. She scrunched up her nose at the sight of it. Shouldn't her father be in a VIP ward?

She hated hospitals not only because they were not a fun place but also because they reminded her of her mother. Her mother died on the operating table after being in labour for hours. After her mother's death, her life began. Her hand lingered on the handle as she did not know what to do.

If her father was sick and lying on the bed inside, how was she supposed to feel? Her father was the only family she had, and the thought of losing him filled her mind. How was she supposed to go on in life without him? She finally took a deep breath as she opened the door.

A bed stood in the middle of the room, and all she could see from a distance was a frail body and several tubes attached to his body. She blinked her eyes rapidly as she hoped this was a dream or a prank. Could her father go this far just to prank her? She moved closer with steady steps to him.

Hovering over him, she almost burst into tears; his face was hollow like someone who had lost a few pounds. She closed her eyes and wondered how selfish she must have been. Her father had taken care of her with his entire life, and every time he asked her to come back, all she cared about was her life.

"Why didn't you tell me you were this sick?" she whispered as she sat by his side. She knew that if he could talk in that moment, he would say that he did not want to bother her and that was the reason he did not tell her anything. "If you were this sick, I would have suspended everything and flown in just to take care of you," she continued, tears streaming down her face.

"You take good care of me but you do not care to give me a chance to take care of you," she continued. "Everyone would think that I am such a bad daughter, a daughter that does not care about her father, a daughter who is selfish and lf-centred." Her voice kept rising as she spoke but she was trying her best not to get angry at the man in front of her.

She took a deep breath, standing up from the bed. She took out a tissue from her bag and wiped her tears before leaving the room to find the doctor. "I have to talk to him."