Chapter 31: The Weight of Love
The hospital halls were cold and quiet, only the hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional echo of footsteps broke the silence. Jake walked between Marcus and Elena, each holding one of his arms like anchors keeping him from floating away.
They stopped at Room 207.
Jake's heart pounded.
"You don't have to go in right away," Elena whispered.
"But we're right here," Marcus added, squeezing his shoulder.
Jake nodded, his throat tight.
He reached for the doorknob. His hand trembled. He paused.
Marcus placed his hand over Jake's and gave him a nod. Elena placed her palm on Jake's back.
Together, they opened the door.
Inside, a frail man lay in the bed, thin tubes connected to his nose and wrist. The once sturdy father who scolded with a deep voice now looked like a shadow of himself. But when he saw Jake… his tired eyes lit up.
And beside him, sitting with a wet cloth in hand, was their mother. Her eyes widened as she turned.
"Jake…?"
Jake couldn't hold it anymore.
He rushed forward and collapsed into her embrace, sobbing like a child.
"Mom… I'm sorry I didn't come home sooner… I-I'm sorry…"
She cradled his head, stroking his hair like she did when he was little.
"Shh… You're here now. That's all that matters."
Behind them, their father chuckled weakly. "Jake… you're all… grown up. You look like a wrestler."
Jake stood, wiping his tears, and turned to his father.
"Guess I finally started working out… You always said I needed to get my act together."
His father smiled. "Yeah… but I didn't think you'd turn into a tank."
Jake let out a shaky laugh. "Want me to flex? I might break the window."
The room chuckled, but Jake's tears kept falling. He knelt beside the bed and took his father's hand.
"I missed you, Dad…"
His father reached up and gently touched Jake's face.
"I missed you too, son… So much."
Their mom wiped her eyes. "He's been waiting to see you, Jake. Every day."
Marcus and Elena stood quietly near the wall, their eyes filled with tears but giving Jake this moment.
Jake took a deep breath and looked at the monitors.
"…What's the condition?"
His mother hesitated. She turned to Marcus, then Elena, then finally met Jake's eyes.
"Your father has a rare degenerative heart disease. It's late-stage. The doctors said… only a ten percent chance if the surgery works."
Jake's world fell silent.
He squeezed his father's hand tightly, like he could will the illness away.
"Ten percent…? That's it?"
His father, ever the quiet warrior, smiled faintly.
"I've beaten worse odds. But… if things don't go well, I want you to be ready."
"Don't say that!" Jake burst out. "You're gonna make it. I just got my life together—I just found my place again—and I want you to see that. I want you to be proud of me."
His father's voice wavered. "Jake… I've always been proud of you. Even when I didn't understand you. Even when it hurt to push you away. I never stopped loving you."
Tears poured down Jake's cheeks.
He leaned in, hugging his father gently, afraid he'd break him.
His mother joined them, wrapping her arms around them both.
And for the first time in years, the broken pieces of their family were held together in one fragile, trembling moment.