“You’re coming.”
He laughed.
“I am not.”
“You are.”
“Your mother is in the hospital.”
“Exactly.”
“I’m not making your driver take a detour.”
“You are not making anyone do anything.”
The Single Dad shook his head.
“I can handle Seattle transit.”
The CEO looked directly at him.
“After everything you said today, are you really going to make me argue with you before seeing my mother?”
He considered.
“That feels manipulative.”
“It is.”
“Effective.”
“Usually.”
He sighed.
“Fine.”
She smiled.
They exited together.
In the jet bridge, passengers glanced at him.
Some recognized him now from internet searches.
The Single Dad kept moving.
The CEO noticed.
“Does that bother you?”
“What?”
“The staring.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because fifteen minutes ago I was just a tired father.”
“You still are.”
He looked at her.
That answer mattered.
Outside the terminal, a black SUV waited.
Driver opened the rear door.
The Single Dad hesitated.
“This is ridiculous.”
The CEO entered.
“It’s a car.”
“It costs more than my house.”
“Get in.”
He laughed and entered.
The driver asked destination.
The CEO gave the hospital.
Then looked toward the Single Dad.
“Your sister?”
He shook his head.
“Hospital first.”
“That wasn’t the agreement.”
“Agreement changed.”
“You need to see your son.”
“I will.”
“Your sister is waiting.”
“She’s capable of waiting.”
The CEO looked at him.
“You really don’t have to do this.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
He looked out the window.
“Because nobody should walk into intensive care alone if they don’t have to.”
The CEO said nothing.
The SUV drove.
Seattle rain began tapping against the windows.
The CEO’s hand rested between them on the seat.
Not touching.
Close.
At one red light, their fingers brushed.
Neither pulled away immediately.
The hospital appeared.
The SUV stopped.
The CEO looked toward the entrance.
Fear returned.
The Single Dad opened his door.
She turned.
“You’re coming in?”
“Until you find your family.”
The CEO smiled weakly.
“My assistant is coming.”
“Good.”
“She’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”
“Then I’ll stay fifteen.”
Inside, fluorescent lights replaced luxury.
Nobody cared about her outfit.
Nobody cared about his past.
Hospitals were good at flattening status.
The CEO approached reception.
The Single Dad stayed several feet behind.
A nurse came.
Confirmed the mother’s room.
One visitor initially.
The CEO turned.
“Come with me.”
The Single Dad shook his head.
“That should be family.”
The CEO hesitated.
Then nodded.
Before entering, she stepped closer.
“Will you still be here?”
“For fifteen minutes.”
She looked at his face.
“Promise?”
Something in the question made his chest tighten.
“Yes.”
She disappeared through secure doors.