The Pull of Destiny (72 page)

BOOK: The Pull of Destiny
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“I thought you were
joking. I really thought you were pretending to date Miss Sawyer to spite me.”
He paused, looking uncharacteristically subdued as he looked seriously into my
eyes. “But I see how much you care for her. And I can tell she cares for you.”

A huge sigh of relief
escaped me. He understood! He finally got it! CiCi and I made each other happy,
which was the most important thing.

I grinned goofily at dad,
probably the first time in years that I’ve actually smiled at him and meant it.
But hey, what he had just said meant a lot to me. “Thanks, dad.”

He stared back at me
gravely. His eyes looked tired, like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. In a
perfectly sombre voice to match the serious expression on his face, he said,
“That being said, I have one question for you to answer. If Miss Sawyer cares
about you this much, what will happen if you die on the operating table and
she’s still in love with you?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 29

 

no air.

 

 

 

Luke’s Point of View

 

I blinked, sure that I
hadn’t heard right. There was no possible way dad had just said what I thought
he’d said.

“Did you just say-?” I asked
slowly, my voice trailing off as he nodded solemnly.

“Yes, Luke.” Dad shot me
an exasperated glance, running a hand through his greying hair. “I mean, this
had
to have crossed your mind at some point!”

What, me dying? Why in the
hell
would that cross my mind willingly? The only time I had actually
thought of that was when I’d gotten started on my list, but now, I just thought
of it as a fun activity. You know, something to do to pass the monotony of my
life now especially now that I didn’t have to go to school. I mean, I don’t
even call it my bucket list anymore!

My mind a whirl, I
spluttered, “I don’t- why are you talking about me dying?” I spread out my
arms, feeling betrayed by him. And just when I thought we’d come to some sort
of agreement. “You’re my dad; you’re not supposed to say things like that!”

 

Sighing, dad began pacing
up and down in front of me, his arms folded across his broad chest. Great. Time
for yet another lecture, right on schedule. “Hear me out,” he said, looking
serious. “Like you said, I’m your father. Meaning that I have to think about
the morbid stuff. I don’t like it any more than you do, but such is life.” He
paused for effect, his steely eyes on my face. “Dr. Khan says there’s a chance
of you- dying during surgery or post op.” I sucked in a breath as dad continued
talking. Of course I knew that, but I definitely didn’t want to think about it.
Death was such a scary subject for me. “You know this. You were there when he
said it.”

“I was there when you
bullied him into saying it,” I retorted.

Dr. Khan was such a
diplomat that he would never consider even mentioning the word ‘death’ in my
presence, but dad had forced his hand on my last check-up. I had cringed
through it all. Dad was a born bully.

 

Disinterested, dad flapped
his hand at me. “Whatever. My point is you know that operations like that are
touch and go.” He sighed as I stared at him. Something must have been written
on my face (maybe the last shred of respect I had for him shrivelling up)
because he said, “Don’t look at me like that! I don’t like it more than you do,
but facts are facts. We have to prepare for eventualities. That’s why people
prepare their wills and get their affairs into order before they go in for
surgery.” He shrugged at me as I stood silently, my ears ringing with his
self-righteous speech. He actually thought he was giving me advice? Why not
tell me to just give up hope period? “I thought that would surely be one of the
things on your bucket list, but I guess not.”

Breathing through my nose
in an effort to calm myself, I stared dad down. “No. Writing my will wasn’t on
my list.”

Dad chose to ignore the
sardonic tone in my voice. “What do you think your precious girlfriend will do
if you died on the operating table?” He tilted his head, giving me a questioning
look. “It’ll crush her! You’re her first boyfriend, I’m sure?”

I nodded brusquely.
“Yeah.”

So what if I was CiCi’s
first boyfriend? I really had no idea what he was trying to get at. This had
nothing to do with anything!

“Put yourself in her shoes.
She has a boyfriend- her first boyfriend- and he has an aneurysm. He’s due to
go into surgery any day now. What happens if he doesn’t wake up? How would you
feel?”

I kneaded my temples,
hating what I was hearing, especially since I knew that when I was alone, I
would replay everything dad was saying over and over. “Damn, dad. Don’t. Just-
stop.”

Pity in his eyes, dad
shook his head. “I can’t. You have to hear this. It may seem like I’m attacking
you, but I’m just looking at the bigger picture here. If anything happened to
you during surgery, it will scar Miss Sawyer for life. You know that.” He gave
me a knowing look. “Do you want that on your conscience?”

“No,” I mumbled. I was
seeing a brand new side of dad, and it was freaking me out. I knew that all this
just had to be a ploy to get me to dump CiCi and stop showing him up, but the
feeling behind it seemed so sincere. He was actually acting like he cared about
someone else besides himself!

Cracking his knuckles, dad
continued. “Then there’s only one thing for you to do. Break up with her. Be as
cold-hearted as possible. That way, if anything goes wrong, it won’t hurt her
as much because you already hurt her deeply.” He resumed pacing, getting into
his diabolical plan as I gaped at him. He had some nerve... “If, after the
operation, you decide that you still want to be with her, all you have to do is
tell her you were protecting her.”

“I can’t do that,” I
protested. “It’s heartless!”

“Sometimes you have to be
heartless,” dad intoned in grim tones. “It’s called being a man. It’s a dirty
job, but it must be done.”

I stared at him, feeling
more tired than ever. Honestly, dealing with dad just sapped all of my energy.
“I can’t- I won’t do it,” I said adamantly, beginning to sound like a skipping
CD. “It’s not right, dad.”

“You know it’s right. You
just don’t want to admit it.” Dad shrugged. “But you’ll think it over and
you’ll realise that it’s the only way to go.”

“Nope,” I said over my
shoulder as I walked out of the kitchen.

Behind me, dad said “Time
is running out!”

 

***

 

I shuffled into my
bedroom, sat down on my bed, and all of a sudden, depressing thoughts started
trickling into my head. And unfortunately, I didn’t have anything better to do
than to listen to them.

Dad was, as much as I
hated to admit it, right about one thing. If something happened to me during
surgery and I didn’t make it, I would be devastated. It was hard for me to
think about, because
nobody
wants to think about their own impending
death. We all want to live forever. But if anything
did
happen to me, it
would hurt I desperately, I knew that much. Did I really want that burden on my
shoulders?

I shook my head, folding
my arms behind my head as I lay on my bed, staring unseeingly up at the
ceiling.

 

No. I loved CiCi; I didn’t
want to think about her hurting over something to do with me. Her mindset was
already so fragile, what with dealing with Nate and feeling guilty over the
death of her niece. I didn’t want to add to that.

Sighing, I faced the bare
facts that my dad had been trying to make me face during his impassioned
lecture- if I dumped CiCi as callously as possible, she
would
get over
it eventually. It would hurt her considerably less if I dumped her now and
something did happen to me later on, right? Damn, I hated myself for trying to
justify what I was thinking, but I didn’t have a choice. People got dumped
every day and got over it. At least that way, there would be closure for her.

 

But could I go through
with it? Did I even want to go through with it? All I had to go with was what
dad had said, and he wasn’t my go-to person for enlightenment on the human
psyche. What if he was just saying all that for his own selfish reasons? I
wouldn’t put it past him, trying to get CiCi out of my life because he doesn’t
think she’s good enough. I don’t mean not good enough for me, because we all
know that dad thinks I’m the lowest of the low, but not good enough to be
dating an Astor. To a snob like dad, it was all in the name. And poor CiCi
didn’t have a ‘reputable’ background or any of the good stuff that makes dad
happy. Like money. That’s why he didn’t care when I dated Joanna because
although he didn’t like her (not that he likes any of my friends) he approved
of the fact that she was from a rich family. He didn’t care that she was shallow,
spoilt and catty. Actually, neither did I, because I was just like that too.
But now... Now I saw things differently and I liked to think I was a better
person for it. And I mostly had CiCi to thank for that. So why would I take
dad’s advice and throw her under a bus after all the help she’s been to me?
Especially after everything I already put her through? I didn’t deserve it.

I sighed, kneading my head
to curb the pounding which was likely due to thinking too much.

 

But what if something
did
happen to me? What if, God forbid, I really did die? If I took dad’s advice
and dumped her as cold-heartedly as possible, then died, she would hate me for
what I did to her. Who would want that on their conscious? Definitely not me.

Does that mean you think
something is going to happen to you?

I tried to shut that
thought out of my head but it just wouldn’t give. Of course I thought something
was gonna happen to me. I stayed up till late, just reading people’s aneurysm
stories. Not many people survived. If this had been months ago, when I just
found out about the aneurysm, I wouldn’t have even cared. I hadn’t really been
in my life then and I didn’t really care about anyone’s feelings like I did
right now. I didn’t want to be selfish and use CiCi to comfort me now as I dealt
with the aneurysm and not be there for her if I didn’t make it...

Shit. I hated not knowing
what to do. Clutching my pillow to my chest, I fell into a troubled sleep.

 

Next Day

 

 

You know that feeling you
get when you’ve pumped yourself up to do something you don’t want to do? You
talk yourself into it, try to justify your actions and totally ignore that
niggling feeling that’s screaming ‘stop it!’ in your head. Then something comes
along that completely rocks your world because it means you don’t have to go
through with your original plan and you start to regret even thinking about it?

Well, that’s how I started
to feel when Doctor Khan called me to make a ‘very important’ appointment a
couple of days later. You know, pessimistic yet hopeful. As I sat in the doctor’s
office, waiting for him to lift his head from the piles of reports on his desk,
my stomach was tied up in knots. What did he want to talk to me about? Was it
good or bad? When was he going to say something, dammit?

I was this close to hyperventilating
when he finally looked up from the paperwork on his desk, a huge smile on his
face.

 

“Fantastic news, Luke,” he
started, just as I was starting to think he was going to go the opposite way
and tell me to start writing up my will. “We have discerned that the aneurysm
is now large enough to operate on. You will go into surgery a week from today.”

Maybe it was shock from
hearing that finally, after months of waiting, I would have a chance to live
headache free. Or maybe it was the confusion of trying to figure out what the
hell ‘discerned’ meant. Hey, I had just popped two Tylenol 3’s- I was feeling a
little doped up! Anyway, I just stared blankly at Doctor Khan for approximately
a minute, my eyes hardly focusing on him and my mouth open, before mumbling
,“What?”

I am so glad dad wasn’t
anywhere near me.

Luckily for me, patience
is Doctor Khan’s middle name. Or it should be, especially after the way he
explained everything from the surgery prep to what I would expect after the
operation. When I left his office, I was flying high and all the negative
thoughts I’d been having for the past couple of days evaporated (mostly thanks
to the T3’s).

***

 

I had planned to meet CiCi
at Central Park after school and go watch a movie, but the instant I saw her coming
towards me I knew something was wrong. And the fact that I could see that
through my drug induced haze meant that I had it bad.

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