BLOOD IS THICKER

What is he thinking, huh? "Of course, Dad. I will be right here with you. We will fight this together, like the family that we are. You and I. Your baby girl will take care of you until you are back on your feet again."


"I... am happy to know that you are back home, my dear. I missed you so much. All is okay now that I have seen you again, my dearest child."

He is struggling to speak. That means he is getting exhausted. Too exhausted, actually.

I kiss his hands. "I missed you more, Dad. I missed you so much. Why don't you rest for now, okay? We will continue our chit-chats later," I plead, but he wriggles my idea, urging a smile on his lips.


He is still stubborn even in this condition, huh? "I didn't know that a moment like this would come. That I would ever have the pleasure of having a conversation with my precious daughter again. Don't deny me this pleasure, my dear. I want to hear more. How have you been? I know what I did was…"

"Dad!" I cut him off gently. "You don't need to say anything. I understand your reasons, and I apologize for all that I have put you through for the last few months. I was stupid and childish. I shouldn't have done that, father. I should be the one to apologize, and I am apologizing, Dad. I hope you can forgive me someday. But this is what matters most now, papa—you getting better and me being here. So, please rest."


"I have nothing against you, my baby girl! If anything happens, then..."

"The only thing that will happen is that you will get better, Papa, and nothing else." God! Does he know how the mere thought of that stings? And nothing like that will happen; he will get better.

"But my dear, you know that even if not now, a time like this will come and..."

"Not now, Papa." I cut him off. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to imagine it; I don't want to hear or think about that cursed moment. 'I need you here my whole life, Dad. Promise me you will stay with me," I plead with tears blurring his image.

"Come." He pulls me to bed, and I lie beside him in his arms. "You shouldn't be afraid of anything, my child. I have full conviction that you can handle anything. You have proven that you are a real Riccaford. You can handle life and any problem that comes your way on your own. Always remember that my child, and always face everything with such boldness and surety. You have made me so proud, my dear."

I have? By running away? By defying him?

"What are you talking about, Papa?" I implore, unsure of what he means by proving myself as a real Riccaford and making him proud.

"Your disappearance has taught me a lot of things that have made me feel nothing but pride for you, my child. You have proven that you can stand up for what you believe in and your rights. Never ever forget your self-worth and your principles, my child."

Seriously? Was that a test or what?

"I learned that from the best teacher, and that is you, Papa. I don't think I am proud of what I did, though, because I defied you. I rebelled against my father, and I don't think I can ever forgive myself for what you are going through right now," I retorted.

"Listen. You are Ellie Marrie Riccaford, my only child. I was furious at first because it was my ego that you touched. I was used to being obeyed, but I forgot my daughter is as pigheaded as me—she can't be bent just by a mere contract if she does not deem it right. Even if that meant going against the great Richard Riccaford! I hope you can forgive me for that, and I want you to know that I don't hold anything against you. If anything, I am so proud of you."

"Ooh, Papa! I have nothing to forgive you for. We did what we did because we pushed each other beyond our limits. Let's put that behind us now. I want us to go back to how things were," I say.

"Alright, dear. I am happy that my daughter is back, and she is not furious with me anymore."

"And I am glad that my father is no longer angry with me. I am happy that we are not at odds. I love you, dad. I love you so much. And I promise never to hurt you like that again." I sincerely apologize.

"I love you so much, my child."

I kiss his hand, and deep inside, I feel like a very huge load has been lifted from my heart and off my shoulders. This feels so good. It has brought a lot of peace to my soul. Now what he means is to get better, and everything will just be perfect. "Should I leave you to rest now? I think I disobeyed the doctor's orders."

"Those doctors are exaggerating a lot. See, I am still talking. I haven't collapsed or fallen short of breath or voice," he argues.

Huh! I know him and his stubbornness. "Yes, but you need to rest now anyway," I insist, pulling the covers up to his neck.

"If my daughter says so, then I know better than to veto. But you are sleeping beside me. I am sure you must be tired."

Huh? Then again. I think I need the reconnection. "Alright, Pa," I say as I lay beside him again.

"We will talk more when I wake up, okay? About that unresolved issue!"

That got me to jolt up. That again? This soon? Oooh, Papa!

But whatever he asks of me, I have no guts to say no to him. I would be a heartless daughter if I did that.