Hospice care. I didn’t think it was anything as serious as that. My father was getting on a bit but he wasn’t that old. He’d looked haggard the last time I’d seen him, but he still seemed to be as healthy as an ox and certainly not sick enough to require that kind of care.
I stared out of the window, it was another gloomy day in London and I wanted nothing more than Ginny beside me. It felt so wrong to leave her and it was even worse knowing she was worried sick about me. As the cab pulled up to the front of the hospital, I pressed forty quid into the driver’s hand, took a deep breath and steeled myself for what was to come.
I found the room quickly enough. I checked the number on the door and glanced through the small window, seeing my mother huddled in a high-backed chair. When I pushed the door open, she turned around and I saw the look of relief on her face when she spotted me. I was great to see her again, albeit under these depressing circumstances.
She got up and practically ran over to me, so glad to see me, “Tristan, thank God you’re here,” she said with a weak smile. She looked completely exhausted and I wondered when she’d managed to have her last proper sleep.
I stepped slowly into the hospital room, the smell of disinfectant hit me hard. The curtain was drawn, hiding my father from view. I put a comforting hand on Mum’s shoulder, and we walked over to the bed.
He was still asleep. A single IV threaded through to his left arm and an oxygen tube was clipped under his nose. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but he looked better than I would’ve figured someone requiring hospice care should look. While gaunt and pale, he still looked like my father.
My mother reached out and squeezed my hand, nodding towards the hallway.
Once we were out there, she held me tightly again and she felt so small and vulnerable in my arms.
“Alright mum, tell me what’s going on.”
She looked up at me with tears in her eyes, “Your father has a brain tumor. We’ve known about it for a while now and up until a few weeks ago, he’d been getting treatment.”
“A while? How long is a while?” I sat down on one of the chairs in the hallway, suddenly feeling weak.
“Six, no, eight months. Not long. We didn’t want to worry you, dear. You know how your father can get, so proud and stubborn. We wanted to keep it private, in the family.”
“I’m family, your son. I should’ve known. I should’ve been paying more attention.”
She looked down the hallway and waved, “Doctor Singh, a minute if you please? Tristan, this is your father’s doctor.”
Blinking back my tears, I stood and shook the man’s hand. He had a warm demeanor, his expression filled with sincere concern.
“Your mother has told me so much about you, it’s a pleasure. I’m glad you were able to make it back from the States.”
“So am I. My mother was just catching me up. What exactly is wrong with him?”
The doctor folded his hands and spoke plainly, “Your father has what we call a glioblastoma, or GBM for short. It’s a pretty rare and aggressive type of malignant tumor found in the brain.”
“So you just go in and cut it out, right?”
“Unfortunately, that’s not really possible with this type of tumor. It attacks the web-like fibers that hold the brain tissue together, so it very quickly spreads to places we can’t reach. He responded very well to the radiation and chemotherapy, but it’s become too much.” The doctor glanced at my mother and shook his head. “Now our focus is on keeping him comfortable.”
That last sentence rang in my ears. It was literally a death sentence. I looked at Mum with tears in my eyes and realized how incredibly strong she’d been to deal with this for so long.
“So there’s nothing we can do?” I said, my voice nearing a whisper.
The doctor put a hand on my shoulder and shook his head. “I’m sorry. We’re managing his pain for now. If it seems like it’d be better for him to go home and receive hospice care from there, I’m open to that possibility.”
“I think that might be for the best,” Mum said. “Tristan, why don’t you go in and sit with your father while I talk to the doctor about arrangements?”
I nodded and returned to the hospital room in a daze. I’d never felt so conflicted in my entire life. My father was dying but it wasn’t like we’d ever had a warm and fuzzy relationship, even when I was a young boy, but he was my father. As I stood at the foot of the bed, I realized how small he looked laying there. How could such an imposing and dominate force be reduced to so little, so quickly?
His eyes fluttered open, then he blinked several times, trying to focus on me. I moved from the end of the bed to the side, reached for his hand and hesitated.
“Son? Is that you?”
“Hello Dad. Mum called to tell me you’d fallen ill. I got here as soon as I could.”
He fumbled with the controls on the side and raised the bed. Sitting so close, I could see how thin his skin had become. I’d been so wrapped up in myself, doing everything I could to get to Ginny, that I hadn’t noticed him deteriorate right before my eyes.
He pushed himself up and winced as the IV dug into his arm, “Blasted thing.” He looked at me painfully, “I suppose your mother’s told you?”
I nodded. “I can’t believe you kept it to yourself all this time. I…I wouldn’t have been so hard on you.”
“That’s precisely why I did it. I didn’t want anyone treating me any different. If I could’ve got away with not telling your mother, I would have.” His head fell back almost in defeat. “That’s my biggest regret, dragging her through all this.”
“She’s tougher than we give her credit for,” I said, thinking of her out in the hallway, arranging her husband’s death. I suddenly thought of Ginny, my heart gripped with anxiety at the idea of losing her.
“Anyway, I’m glad you’re here now to help take care of things.” His voice turned steely, “The next couple of weeks are going to be difficult for you. There are a few things you’re going to need to know before—”
Just as he started to speak, the door opened and in walked Mum and Dr. Singh.
“Good to see you sitting up, Mr. Armstrong. Just wanted to check in on you and see how you were feeling.”
My dad’s jaw clenched, his face as stern as ever. “I’m doing well under the circumstances, doctor. Thank you for asking.”
As if sensing that my father wasn’t the type to be coddled, the doctor nodded and quickly excused himself from the room. As soon as the door shut, my dad erupted.
“Bloody hell, he has nothing better to do than come in here—”
“Darling!” Mum chastised. “We’ve spoken about this. He’s just doing his job and believe it or not, he cares about your well-being.” She turned to me and continued in a lower voice, “Apparently this tumor can cause severe mood swings and behavioral changes.”
“I am sitting right here, woman. I’m dying, not bloody deaf,” he said in a monotone voice.
“Of course, dear.”
We all sat in silence for a moment. I had no idea how to process everything that had happened in the span of two short days. I didn’t know where to begin. To go from the high of getting married to the love of my life, to finding out my father was on Death’s doorstep, I just felt numb.
“Darling, why don’t you go home and get some rest?”My dad asked my mum. “Tristan’s here now and I’d really feel much better if you took care of yourself for a little while.”
Mum glanced at me, obviously uneasy about leaving even for a couple hours. “I suppose I could go and take a quick nap and be back before visiting hours are over…”
“Mum, go, really. I’m happy to stay here and keep Dad company.”
As she looked to me and back to him, her lip quivered and I thought she might burst into tears. With a quick nod, she smoothed her skirt and stood, her strength returning once again. “Alright, well you two boys play nice and stay out of trouble. I’ll be back in a few hours. I’ll try and smuggle
in some Hobnobs for you, darling,” she said as she kissed him softly on the forehead.
Dad watched her leave the room and turned to me the moment the door shut. “Son, we don’t have a lot of time to go through all this. I’d rather get it taken care of immediately so I can…” he cleared his throat. “I want to be able to rest easy knowing you’ve got everything taken care of.”
“Dad, I’ll take care of everything.”
“Take care of your mum for me,” his eyes got moist as he spoke. “I’ve always loved her more than I ever let show. She’s a good strong woman and always stood beside me. Take care of her, son.”
“I will, Dad. I will.” I wiped the tears from my eyes and sucked a sob back in. My father was dying. I wanted to be strong for him, but it was hard. I didn’t want him to see me cry, not yet, not here.
I sucked in a deep breath and gathered my composure. “Alright, Dad… the company. What did you want to tell me?”
With a big exhale, he looked me straight in the eye. It might have been my imagination, but for a moment, I thought he looked scared. “I suppose I should start with the big stuff. Son, you’re going to be the majority shareholder at Armstrong. Your mum and I worked hard to make it what it is and there are things about the Armstrong Empire that I never intended for you to know. Unfortunately, as you know, I don’t have a lot of time left. I’m going to have to be blunt and straightforward with this information. I won’t sugar-coat it.”
I couldn’t help but smile, still curious as to what he could possibly be talking about. “Dad, I wouldn’t expect it any other way.”
“I need you to promise me you’ll take care of the company. Don’t sell it off to investors and don’t let that bastard Belington get any more shares than he already has. That son-of-a-bitch has been trying to get my company for years.”
When he mentioned Vanessa’s father, I thought about Ginny and how she would react to living in England. “Dad, don’t worry. I’ll be here with Mum, taking care of things. I promise. Now stop worrying.”
He coughed and the pained look on his face scared me. He closed his eyes and I got up to hold his hand. Is this it? The smartest most powerful man I’d ever known is lying on his deathbed. I shook his arm, “Dad?” Tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t stop them this time.
He opened his eyes, “Son, you are a very rich man now. More than you can imagine.”
“I’m not concerned with that. I’m concerned about you.”
“Oh don’t concern yourself with me. I’m dying. I’ll be gone soon. Find yourself a nice girl who loves you for you. I’m sorry—” His eyes rolled back and I jerked his arm gently.
“Dad!”
He slowly moved his head toward me. I could see the tears in his eyes. He choked out a few words before closing his eyes again. “I’m tired, son. Tired old man. Call your mum please.”
“Sure, I’ll call her now. Just hold on.”
“Son?”
“What Dad?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
“Brain cancer?” Ginny squeaked. “That’s terrible, I’m so sorry, baby! Are you okay?”
Luckily, I’d managed to catch her before she’d left for work. The time difference was such a pain in the arse to get used to. Just seeing her beautiful face on the screen made me feel better, but hearing the sympathy in her voice broke my heart. “It’s a tumor, technically, but they call it cancer.”
“I can’t believe they were able to hide this for so long,” she said. “My mom decides to make the kitchen a slightly different color green and I find out before the paint dries.” Ginny frowned and nibbled on her lip. “Are you sure you’re okay? I can try to get some time off work and come over…”
“No, no need for that. I’m doing all right, really. I’ve got Mum to care for, Mike is being really great taking care of things at work. You just got promoted to that new position, you can’t be taking time off already.”
I could tell she didn’t believe me. I couldn’t blame her, my explanation wasn’t too convincing. I knew this burden was mine to carry and more than anything, I didn’t want the first few months of our marriage to be tainted with so much sadness. I needed to make sure everything remained as normal as it could between us. For me and for her.
“Alright, if you say so.” She was still getting ready for her day while mine was just winding down. I’d spent most of the day at the hospital and had only just made it back to the house in time to call Ginny. I was sipping a lager while she was sipping coffee. These long distance relationships are a real mind fuck, I thought.
We chatted as she went through her morning routine. Her laptop was angled such that I could see most of her room. She’d flit from one side to the other, throwing clothes on the bed, trying them on, discarding them. Once she’d finally picked an outfit she was happy with, she settled back in front of the computer and started putting her makeup on.
“I don’t think it would’ve made the news over there, but we actually had a little earthquake last night,” she said as she brushed powder across her skin.
“Nothing’s been damaged, right? You girls are okay?”
She scoffed and looked at the screen. “You’re kidding, right? I’ve heard burps cause more damage. I’m a tough California girl ya know?”
“Okay, okay. I suppose that’s something I’m gonna have to get used to. We don’t really have a lot here that can kill us weather-wise. Hell, the entire country shuts down when we get a few centimeters of snow.”
Ginny tilted her head from side to side, checking her reflection in the desk mirror she had beside the computer. As she began putting on her favorite shade of red lipstick, I felt my cock twitch.
“You’re going to work looking that sexy? You look beautiful,” I said. My voice came out huskier than I’d intended. I think she noticed the tone, because she arched an eyebrow at the monitor.
“Oh, do I?” she replied as she puckered her lips.
“Yeah, you’re well fit,” I said in a thick Cockney accent. She giggled at how different it sounded from my normal voice.
“I’m not quite sure what that means, but thank you? I guess that’s something I’m going to have to get used to, all your slang.”
I gave my stiffening cock a squeeze as I watched her lips move. I wanted them on me. I wanted them wrapped around me as I ran my fingers through her gorgeous hair. I thought of her eyes gazing up at me as I pushed inside—
“Hey Gin, you know what would really help me relax?”
Her face brightened at the idea of helping me. “What’s that? Anything!”
I angled the camera down to my obvious bulge and slowly unzipped my pants. I heard her gasp and giggle.
“I’m just finished getting ready! I’m actually running late for work as it is.”
“Aww, so what if you ran into a little traffic? I hear that’s a real problem over there,” I said with a smile. I loved teasing her and I knew she couldn’t say no. I pulled my shirt off over my head, flexing my muscles as I leaned back against the sofa. “How’s the tattoo?”I grinned, and Ginny’s eyes grew wider.
“It’s good, you wanna see?”
“Is the house empty?”
“Yeah…I suppose a quickie couldn’t hurt. It is our honeymoon after all,” she said with a wink. Although she didn’t intend it, that comment was like a punch to the gut. My expression must’ve flickered because she quickly added, “Are you sure? I mean, with your father and everything else that’s going on?”
“I’m sure,” I growled. “Baby, I need you, now.” I nodded my head toward her and said, “Take your blouse off, slowly…”
“You mean,” Ginny turned her back to the camera before slowly sliding her arms out of her shirt. With every inch of dewy skin revealed, I could feel my cock growing harder and I had to squeeze the base to keep myself at bay. The shirt slid to the floor, but I barely heard it over the pounding of my pulse. Ginny threw me a sultry grin over her shoulder. “Like that?”
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“Mmm, baby. That was perfect. But you’re still far too dressed for my liking. Perhaps the bra should come next.”
Her fingers toyed with the clasp, keeping her succulent breasts confined and I wanted nothing more than to be the one caressing the skin of her back, until she trembled with my touch.
“Wish you were here with me, baby,” she whispered just loud enough for the microphone to catch. I wasn’t sure if she meant to be heard, so I didn’t say anything. Silently, I agreed with her. The need to be with her was overwhelmingly intense.
Her fingers got to work, unhooking the clasp with barely any effort. My mouth watered, thinking of her full breasts free and bared to my hungry gaze. “Turn around, baby. Let me watch you.”
Giggling, she turned around slowly and I groaned as she covered her breasts from my view.
“Come on, darling. Don’t tease me like that. Let me see you and those beautiful little nipples.” She grinned before spreading her fingers. I could see one sweet little pink nipple wink at me as her hands moved further away.
“Like what you see?” she cooed. Her voice was so sexy and breathy. I knew I wasn’t the only one affected as her eyes focused on the movement of my arm.
“You know I do, baby. I’d like it even more if I could see your wet little pussy, too.” My hand was slick with my own excitement and I wondered if she could hear the wet sounds it was making over her own heavy breathing. “Touch yourself for me baby. I want to watch your pleasure.”
“Mmmm” she swallowed. “How do you want me, babycakes?”
The question made me chuckle even as I pulsed again. “Touch those sweet little nipples of yours.” My eyes focused on her fingers as she complied, her hands caressed and squeezed her flushed breasts. “Pinch them baby. Hard. Imagine they’re my fingers on you.” The moan she let out made my cock harden a little more, but I held back. I needed to see.
“Tristan.”
“That’s it baby. Now slide your skirt up. Good, good. Look at you, baby, you’re so good to me. I’d love to be there right now, buried in that hot pussy.” My voice was hoarse with need. I watched her fingers slide down until they were petting the soft skin above her knickers. I squeezed the head of my dick, imagining it was teasing her entrance.
Oceans Apart 4 Page 7
