Chapter 6
MADDIE
I feel like I'm dying of embarrassment. First, my fiancé rejected me and canceled our wedding in front of many people. Now, even a stranger wouldn't want to marry me. I'm starting to question myself. What if I'm really the problem?
I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn't notice when the car parked in front of our house. I frowned as I wondered how he knew I lived here. I didn't get the chance to tell him where my house is. I was too busy wallowing in my wounded pride.
"We're here," he announced.
I blew a loud sigh. "I don't have my phone with me, so you can just write your bank account and give it to me."
He frowned, looking at me with disbelief. "Remind me again why I would do that?" he asked, his tone edged with irritation.
"To pay you, of course. I told you, I'm going to pay you for driving me around. And that's exactly what I’ll do once I get my phone," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.
He scoffed, shaking his head. "Just get out."
"But..." I started to protest, but his eyes darkened, and he began glaring at me. I gulped, noticing his jaw clenching, a silent warning not to continue. Reluctantly, I rolled my eyes and opened the car door.
"Fine," I muttered under my breath as I stepped out of his car.
I didn’t look back as I walked towards the house. The reality of my situation was crashing down on me, with each step feeling heavier than the last. I heard the roar of his car's engine as he drove away, leaving me standing alone in front of my parents house.
I paused for a moment, taking in the familiar sight. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself and opened the door.
The house was eerily quiet. It seemed like my parents hadn’t come back from the church. I wondered where they could be. The silence was unsettling, amplifying my anxiety.
"Maddie? What are you doing here?" One of our maids, Emmy, asked when she found me in the living room.
"Am I not welcome in my parents' house, Emmy?" I joked, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere.
"No, that's not what I mean. Shouldn't you be in the hospital?" she asked, frowning.
"Who's in the hospital?" I asked, confusion evident in my voice.
"Your father was rushed to the hospital. Your mother came here to pick up a few things. I thought you were already there. What's going on?"
"What?" I exclaimed in shock. "What hospital? I have to go there," I said, my heart pounding in my chest.
"St. Mary's," Emmy replied quickly. "Your mother left just a little while ago. She didn’t tell me much, just that it was urgent."
I felt a cold sweat break out across my forehead. The reality of the situation hit me hard. My father, who had always been my rock, was now lying in a hospital bed, and I had been completely unaware.
"I need to get there now," I muttered, more to myself than to Emmy. I run to my room to change into more comfortable clothes. I just grabbed the first pair of clothes that I could find in the drawer. I slipped into a pair of faded jeans and a shirt before I grabbed a pair of sneakers. Once I'm done, I rush back downstairs and grab my phone and car keys, my mind racing with thoughts of my father’s condition.
Emmy watched me with concern as I hurried towards the door. "Drive safely, Maddie," she called after me.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The drive to the hospital was a blur of traffic lights and anxious thoughts. My heart felt like it was in my throat, and my hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.
When I finally arrived at St. Mary’s Hospital, I parked hastily and rushed inside. The sterile smell of disinfectant hit me as I walked through the doors, adding to my growing sense of dread. I approached the front desk, breathless.
"I'm looking for my father, Mr. Phillips. He was brought in earlier," I said quickly.
The nurse at the desk checked her records and then looked up at me. "Room 314. Take the elevator to the third floor and turn left."
"Thank you," I said, already moving towards the elevator.
As I reached the third floor, I spotted my mother pacing outside room 314. Her face was pale, and her eyes were red from crying. She looked up as I approached, relief washing over her features.
"Maddie," she said, her voice trembling. "Thank God you're here."
I hugged her tightly, trying to offer some comfort. "How is he, Mom?"
"They're still running tests. He's currently in the ICU," she replied, her voice breaking. "Your father suffered a heart attack while..." She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence as her emotions overwhelmed her.
I swallowed hard, fighting back my own tears. "It's okay, Mom. We'll get through this."
My mother nodded, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "It all happened so fast. After what happened, he couldn't bear what Wyatt did to you. He was so mad that his heart couldn't take it."
I squeezed her hand reassuringly. "This is all my fault," I murmured, blaming myself for allowing Wyatt to put me in this situation.
We stood there in silence for a moment, absorbing the gravity of the situation. The ICU's sterile environment was filled with the beeping of monitors and the soft murmur of nurses going about their duties. It was a stark contrast to the warm, bustling home we had left behind.
"Can we see him?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"They're allowing family visits, but only for a few minutes at a time," she explained, wiping away her tears. "We can go in now, if you're ready."
I nodded, following her down the corridor to the ICU. As we entered the room, the sight of my father lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to various machines, made my heart ache. He looked so vulnerable, a stark contrast to the strong, vibrant man I had always known.
"Dad," I whispered, approaching his bedside and taking his hand gently. His skin was cool to the touch, and I could feel the steady thump of his pulse through the delicate tubes and wires that surrounded him.
He opened his eyes and smiled weakly at me. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, his voice raspy but filled with warmth and love.
"How are you, dad?" I said, squeezing his hand gently.
My father nodded slowly, his eyes filled with gratitude and determination. "I'm fine, princess. You've got nothing to worry about," he lied. "I think you can already ask the doctor to have me discharged."
"Dad, we both know you're not okay."
"We have to leave now, Maddie. We can't afford for me to stay here any longer," my dad insisted as he tried to remove the wires attached to his body. Despite his evident weakness, he was persistent about leaving.
"Dad! You can't do that!" I exclaimed, rushing to stop him from pulling off the wires. "What are you talking about? We can pay for this!" I said, irritation and worry blending in my voice.
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Mom and Dad exchanged a look, one that seemed to carry a weighty, unspoken truth.
"Mom, what's going on?" I asked, confusion lacing my words. I could sense that there was more to this situation than they were letting on.