SILENT NIGHT

"Love?!"


I snap my eyes at Damian's voice, and from the look of things, he ought to have howled my name more than once. Countless times, to be precise. I didn't know I was just staring at him like a bewildered zombie. Last time I checked, I just dropped nanny Aisha's call and collapsed on Damian's chest. I don't know when we ended up staring at each other or if there has been any conversation between us. My eyes are incredibly puffy, but tears are still flowing non-stop.

Papa!

Papa!


That is the only thing lingering in my head right now. My father is sick—seriously sick! Nanny Aisha would not have called if his condition wasn't critical. She said clearly that she decided to call because Papa's condition was not good. What is his diagnosis? How long has he not been feeling well? What condition is he in? Is it that severe? What…

"Honey! Hey?" Damian's voice startles me again.


"I need to pack. I need to get ready. I need to head back home. I need..."

"Love, hey!" Damian stops me before I continue ranting further. I can't tell how much I ranted, but I have a million things running through my head.

My head is spinning with a zillion of these that are threatening to break me. And before I do, I need to see my father. I need to get home. My father needs me. "I need to see my father, Damian. I need to see for myself if he is okay or not. I need to be with him, Damian."

I quit ranting abruptly and do the first thing that strikes my mind—my father's need for me. As Nanny Aisha's urgent plea echoes in my mind, I am consumed by a sense of determination and desperation unlike anything I have ever felt before. Without a second thought, I abruptly halt my ranting and spring into action.

Tears blurred my vision as I bound up the stairs, each step a blur beneath my feet as I raced towards my destination. Damian's voice calls out behind me, his footsteps heavy and insistent, but I refuse to slow down. Every fiber of my being is focused on one thing: reaching my father as quickly as possible.

The weight of Nanny Aisha's words fuels me, pushing me forward with a sense of urgency that borders on panic. I leap up the stairs, skipping as many steps as I can in my haste. Each jump is a gamble, a risk I am willing to take in my desperate attempt to reach home, albeit holding on to the hope that I won't break my leg. I can't afford any delays. My father needs me.

I can feel Damian's presence behind me, his concern palpable in the air, but I can't afford to stop now. My father needs me, and I won't let anything stand in my way. With each step, I push myself harder, my heart racing with a mixture of fear, determination, and guilt.

Guilt!

Underline that word because I feel like I will have a whole lot of time to revise it.

Kicking my bedroom door open, I run to my closet. I pull out a suitcase and fling it to my bed after opening it. I grab as many clothes as I can from the wardrobe and hike to the bed, throwing everything in. I thought I was going pack, but I have no time for folding or arranging anything. I just keep tossing them in the bag and running for more from the closet.

The door swings open, and Damian runs in, catching me before I can grab some more clothes from the closet. "Please, babe, you need to calm down." Damian says he is running to me.

"I need to see papa asap. I need to know how he is." I rant again, turning to go for another bunch of clothes but he grabs my hand.

"I understand, but it is so late, babe," he pleads.

Late? No it is not late! It will only be late if I spend another day away from home. Whether it is the middle of the night or the crack of dawn, I have an urgent call to adhere to. "I don't care. All I know is that I need to head home right now, so let me."

"Okay, okay," he says, dries away my tears, and cups my face with his hands. "Calm down, okay?"

Calm down? How am I supposed to do that, given the situation? Didn't he hear what the long call was all about? Doesn't he understand the situation at all? "I just can't, love. I am..."

"Sshh!" He stops me from ranting, nuzzling my cheeks in an innocent, gentle motion. "I get it. You are worried sick about your father, and I understand. Do this, come." He guides me to the bed and helps me sit down. "I will do the packing for you and book the earliest flight I can get, alright? But please, I don't want to see you like this. Mr. Riccaford is a strong man. Nothing bad will happen."

I know my father is a strong gem. Sicknesses never weigh him down, but that is the reason why this hits differently. "And that is what bothers me the most, love. My father never gets bedridden because of ailments. This gotta be something so serious, and I am worried," I say between hiccups.

"Don't entertain the nagging thought of the worst yet, okay? Everything will be fine. I will see if I can get a private jet. Try to rest, love. I will take care of things," he says as he raises up.

He tucks me under the covers, giving me a reassuring kiss, but I find myself springing up the minute I hear him on the phone. "I need an urgent flight for one to Nairobi. I will send you the details asap."

He drops the call and concentrates on sending my details. After that, he packs a full suitcase for me and joins me on the bed, wrapping his arms around me in a solacing gesture.

I struggle to snuggle up to him as much as I can and relieve the tension that I am battling with, but today I can't calm down in his hold. I feel so apprehensive and worried. All his endeavors to placate my uneasiness are hitting a hard rock.