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| "Bride at a wedding ceremony" by Scott Webb is licensed under CC0 1.0 |
Wires and tubes protruded from his body as he remained unconscious on the hospital bed. And incessant beeping drove insane his already terror-stricken bride-to-be. It held a steady rhythm. And with each tone it was a reminder that they were both alive. The man in front of her as well as her father. She suppressed her demons and inched closer to the bed.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Reaching down, she clasped her fingers around his paw of a hand. No bullet could take him out. He was strong. A brute. Her brute. Nonetheless, his vulnerability shone in the drab light of the ICU. She held her breath to feel the pulse in his hand.
Gauze bulged in his hospital gown around his side. He was lucky, the doctors had told her. An inch this way or that and they would have been having a different discussion. Had they brought him into the hospital a minute longer he would have lost too much blood.
Lucky. She scoffed at the thought.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
She squeezed his hand, relinquishing grip on the bars that held back her demons. He was an idiot. He shouldn’t be lying here. He was supposed to be at the farmer’s market getting stuff for the Easter meal with her and her mother.
“I’m not sure which hurts worse: my hand or my gun shot wound.” His smile was like a torch that drove her demons away.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” She released his hand from her vice grip and gingerly planted a kiss on his forehead.
“You’re going to be all right. The doctors said you were shot and brought here by my dad.”
“Is he OK?”
“Yeah…thanks to you.” There was a bitterness in her voice that she failed in concealing. “Is it true you took a bullet for my father?”
“I’m sorry for worrying you.”
“What were you doing with him? He frequents fast food vendors not vegetable stalls.”
“I needed to ask him something.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t need his blessing. My mom adores you and I am in love with you. We can get married without his say in the matter.”
“He’s your father. He deserves to be a part of your wedding. He deserves to at least know his beautiful daughter has found the love of her life.”
“He deserved that bullet.” She rose and leaned up against the window that overlooked a small courtyard. Not even the field of brightly colored lilies offered her any calm to her tormented spirit.
“Don’t say that.” He tried to sit up, but surrendered to lying on his back with a groan.
“Why not? He’s a monster. You’ve seen my mother’s scars. You’ve heard the stories. That slug should’ve died in his apartment alone. If the cops couldn’t lock him up, at least the dealers could’ve ended his miserable life.”
“Stop!” He began to cough until he wheezed.
“Calm down.” She walked over and took his hands into her own. “But where is he now?” Her tone softened. “Did he come to thank the person who saved his life? Is he here comforting his daughter in the midst of her anxiety? No. He ran off yet again. ”
Her forehead connected with his and she let out a grievous sigh. Her demons were loose in the room, raging war against the man she once called daddy, but was dragging her beloved into a war zone. He already got shot because of her father, she didn’t need to get him stuck between friendly fire of her doing.
“I know you hate him. You have every right to despise the man who abused your mother. But he has changed. He’s not the man he once was. That man doesn’t deserve to be part of your life or your wedding, but the man who has undergone great change does.”
He pulled her close.
“Your father isn’t perfect. And there are still wounds that remain bleeding, but one day those will scar over, and you will be able to see the man he is trying to become and the man he currently is. I’m not saying you should forgive him. Just let him come to the wedding. Let him see who you’ve become. Let him catch a spark of determination to burn the embers of his soul.”
She buried her face in his neck. He smoothed back her dark hair, breathing in the aroma of her beauty. Glancing up, he made out the figure of her father standing at the entrance , motionless like a dark gargoyle situated on the terrace of a gray cathedral.
He mouthed the words Thank you and walked away. One day he’ll get his baby girl back, but not until he gets his own life back, free of his own demons.
Prompt: “Is it true you took a bullet for my father?”
(c) 2020 Kevin Barrick
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