Need To See Him
1422 Words
“Maybe he’s just busy,” she whispered, clutching the phone tighter. “He has to be.”
Her voice softened as if she needed to convince herself more than anyone else.
“He’s been helping me nonstop with Zanetti's case. Maybe he’s just tied up with his own work now.”
Her fingers brushed over the edge of her phone. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “That has to be it. He’s just… busy.”
The words steadied her heartbeat a little. It sounded reasonable. Lucian wasn’t the kind of man who disappeared without reason. If he hadn’t called, it had to be work. Nothing more.
Still, the silence felt heavier than she wanted to admit.
A knock on the door made her flinch. She straightened quickly, slipping her phone under her pillow as her father’s voice came through softly.
“Georgia?”
She swallowed. “Yeah?”
The door opened a little, and her father stepped in, his face calm and kind. He’d changed into something more comfortable, dark slacks and a simple gray shirt. The smell of food drifted faintly from the hallway behind him.
“Dinner’s ready,” he said, smiling a little. “I thought I’d come get you before Mark finishes all the soup.”
Georgia forced a small smile, though her stomach felt too tight to even think about eating. “Thanks, Dad. I’m not really hungry right now.”
He frowned slightly. “You haven’t eaten all day.”
“I had something at the hospital,” she lied, glancing down at her hands.
He didn’t buy it, but he didn’t press either. “All right,” he said after a moment. “But try to get something in you later. You need your strength.”
“I will,” she said softly.
He studied her for a beat longer, his eyes full of that quiet worry only a father could carry. “You’ve been through a lot, sweetheart. Don’t try to handle it all at once. Just… breathe, okay?”
She nodded, her throat tightening. “I’m trying.”
He gave a small smile and reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear like he used to when she was little. “That’s my girl.”
The gesture almost broke her.
When he turned to leave, he paused by the door. “And Georgia?”
“Yeah?”
“Whatever happens, you’ll always be my daughter. Nothing changes that. You hear me?”
Her eyes burned. She managed a shaky nod. “Yeah. I hear you.”
“Good.” His voice softened. “Get some rest, all right?”
“I will.”
He gave her one last look, then left, closing the door quietly behind him.
The moment he was gone, the air in the room shifted again, heavier, quieter. Georgia stood there for a few seconds, staring at the door before letting out a deep breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
Her father’s words lingered in her chest like warmth and ache mixed together.
She walked to her dresser and ran her fingers along the top, brushing past perfume bottles and old photo frames. The reflection in the mirror showed a girl she barely recognized... pale, tired, but stubbornly standing.
“I can’t sit here doing nothing,” she whispered to herself.
Her fingers went to the hem of her shirt as she made her way to the bathroom. The warm water hit her skin, washing away the hospital smell and the weight sitting on her chest. For the first time all day, she felt like she could breathe again.
When she stepped out, she wrapped herself in a towel and stood in front of the mirror again, wiping away the steam. Her cheeks were pink from the heat, her hair damp against her shoulders.
“You’re fine,” she told her reflection softly. “You’re not losing it. You just… need to see him.”
She slipped into a simple white top and a pair of jeans, nothing fancy, just comfortable. She tied her hair back in a loose ponytail, then grabbed her phone and car keys from the table.
Before she turned off the light, she looked at herself once more in the mirror.
“He’s probably just busy,” she whispered again, trying to believe it. “But I’ll feel better once I see him.”
Her voice wavered near the end, but her resolve didn’t.
She took a deep breath, opened the door quietly, and stepped into the hallway. The house was mostly silent except for the soft hum of voices coming from the dining room. Her father and Mark were talking, probably laughing over something.
She didn’t join them.
Her steps were light, almost soundless, as she made her way to the front door.
She didn’t make it far. Her hand was already on the doorknob when she heard her father’s voice behind her.
“Going somewhere, sweetheart?”
Georgia froze. She turned slowly.
“I...” she started, fumbling for words. “I just… I need to step out for a bit. I won’t be long.”
He raised a brow. “At this hour?”
“It’s not that late,” she said quickly, avoiding his eyes. “I just need some air.”
Her father walked closer. He didn’t look angry, only curious, and a little worried. “You just got home, Georgia. The doctors said you needed rest.”
“I know, Dad.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “But I’ve been resting for days. I just… I need to clear my head.”
He stopped a few steps away, studying her quietly. “Is this about what happened?”
Her throat tightened. “Maybe. I don’t know. Everything’s just...” She made a helpless gesture, words failing her.
He sighed, the kind of sigh that came from both love and exhaustion. “You’ve been through a lot. No one expects you to make sense of it all overnight.”
“I’m not trying to make sense of it,” she said softly. “I just want to feel normal again. For a little while.”
There was silence between them. The clock in the hallway ticked faintly, marking each second.
Finally, her father nodded. “All right. But don’t go far.”
She blinked, surprised. “You’re not going to ask where I’m going?”
A faint smile tugged at his lips. “I know better than to ask questions you’re not ready to answer.”
Georgia’s heart squeezed. She hadn’t told him about Lucian. Not yet. She would do that when she was ready.
“Dad…” she said quietly. “You’re not mad?”
“Mad?” He chuckled softly and shook his head. “No. I’m your father, Georgia. That means I worry, I fuss, and I probably say too much. But angry? No.” He reached out, his hand warm as it rested on her shoulder. “Whatever happens, whoever you meet, whatever truth you find, you’ll always be my daughter. You understand that?”
Her chest tightened. She nodded, her eyes stinging. “Yeah. I do.”
“Good.” His thumb brushed over her shoulder gently. “Then go. Just be careful.”
She gave him a small, shaky smile. “I will.”
“Do you want me to have Mark drive you?” he asked, half-teasing, half-serious.
She shook her head quickly. “No. I’ll be fine.”
He studied her again, maybe sensing there was more to her words, but choosing not to press. “All right,” he said finally. “Just don’t be gone too long. Dinner’s still warm if you get back hungry.”
“I’ll try,” she whispered, and meant it.
He gave a small nod and turned back toward the dining room. For a moment, she watched him walk away, his shoulders slightly hunched, but still steady, still strong.
When he disappeared around the corner, Georgia exhaled slowly, feeling both lighter and heavier at the same time.
She slipped outside once more. The night had deepened, the moon peeking faintly through drifting clouds. The cool air brushed against her skin, carrying the scent of wet grass and distant rain.
As she slid into her car, her father’s words echoed softly in her mind.
She gripped the steering wheel, whispering to herself, “I just need to see him… make sure he’s okay. That’s all.”
- Writer
