The Hero + Vegas = No Regrets

If it hadn’t been for Worth, there’s no way I’d be pulling up outside the hospital three hours after the call from Oliver. Hell, even if it hadn’t been a holiday, it would have taken me three times as long. But Worth waved his magic billionaire wand, and in a flurry of helicopters and private jets, here I am. And I don’t even know if I want to go in.

“Oliver says it was definitely a heart attack,” I say to Worth. “They’ve put a stent in apparently.”

“That sounds positive.”

I nod. “Yeah. I guess… he’s awake already.” Of course I’m relieved Dad’s not dead, but I don’t know if I want to go up and see him.

“That’s good.”

“It is,” I agree.

We sit in silence. Worth doesn’t push. And I don’t know what to say.

I glance out the window at the hospital, knowing both my brothers are inside. With Dad. They don’t seem to have skipped a beat as far as their relationship is concerned. They’re just business as usual, like what he did doesn’t matter. Like they don’t care Dad had a whole other life that didn’t involve us.

“I don’t know if I want to see him.”

Worth squeezes my hand but doesn’t ask me why. “Do you want to see your brothers?”

Then it hits me like someone’s put a fist right through my chest. Are Dad’s other kids there? His other wife?

Shit.

“I don’t know. I want to go in, then run back to the car if I’m uncomfortable.”

“Well,” Worth says. “Do that. I can come with you and our driver can wait here, or we can both wait here.”

I glance across at him. He’s so kind and thoughtful. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay him for today. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

I offer him a smile I know doesn’t meet my eyes.

“You know, when my dad died, I would have given anything to have gotten to say goodbye. I would have told him I loved him. Even though he must have known, I didn’t tell him enough. Sounds like you’re going to have plenty more opportunities to tell your dad how you feel about him. But one thing my dad’s death taught me was to try and live my life without regrets. I try to do things I think I’ll regret if I don’t. And vice versa. That means my friends tell me I’m boring and sensible and dad-like. What they don’t realize is that each time they tease me, they’re paying me the biggest compliment. It means I’m living my life exactly the way I want to.”

“You’re not that sensible,” I say. “You married me after knowing me no time at all.”

He fixes me with a look. “And I have no regrets about that. Never thought I would.”

My heart takes a tumble in my chest and I squeeze his hand. I take another look at the hospital.

“Will you regret going up there to see him? Or is it more likely you’ll regret not going up?”

He’s made the decision so easy for me. Long term, any regret I have will be about not going inside.

“You’re right,” I say. “I’m going up.”

Worth nods, like he knew I would come to this decision all along.

“I’ll go on my own if that’s okay. I just⁠—”

“That’s fine. But you know where I am if you need me.”

I let out a slow breath. “Yeah, I do.” It feels good to have him here. It feels like nothing can go seriously wrong with him in my corner.