CHAPTER HUNDRED AND NINETEEN

RICHARD'S POV

The old man's breathing finally calmed,

his chest rising and falling in a normal

rhythm. I almost smirked. Showman, that's me.

“Just stay the night, son. Please?” Dad’s voice was thick with emotion, his hand gripping my shoulder like he was afraid I’d disappear. Honestly, if I had the energy, I might have.

“Dad, come on,” I sighed, rubbing a hand down my face.

He flinched, that hopeful glint in his eyes dimming a bit. Damn, he was good at the whole wounded puppy act. “I just… I feel like we could talk, you know? Really talk.”

Right. Talk. Because that’s what we did in this family – air out our feelings and hug it out. Maybe it was the exhaustion talking.

I should have known better than to be

surprised. It was always about him, wasn't

it?

But against my better judgment, I agreed.

“Fine,” I muttered, already regretting the word. “But I'm ordering pizza.”

The pizza was, thankfully, from a decent place. Dad even sprang for extra pepperoni, my favor