The 18th Floor

Chapter Sixteen

Its Tuesday evening, I've spent the past three days wallowing in bed. When I asked for Monday off, I did it as a precaution, in case I wasn't feeling myself. I didn't expect the feeling to carry on past Sunday, let alone till now. I can't ask for tomorrow off as well. I think Lucien will start asking questions I particularly don't want to answer right now.

Sunday marked seven years since the accident.

Every year, on this day, I have mourned for the girl I use to be. It's not that I don't accept what has happened, although that also took a long time, I think it is that I somehow still can't accept what could have happened if my car never flipped over.

As the days approach December, where normal people would be excited for Christmas, my panic attacks become more frequent and my breath shorter. Somehow, by a miracle, Lucien's drives home have been event free. If he noticed I had been extra quiet this last week in his car, he didn't say. Trying to focus on staying in the moment and not going back.

My dad knocks on my door and peeks his head around the corner. My eyes are probably still swollen from the tears I can't help from falling. He smiles softly as he comes into my room and sits on my bed with me. He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to.

Over the past few years my dad has learnt to read me very well, which is both a blessing and a curse. He lays down next to me and starts to stroke my hair.

"Somehow, every year, I have hope that I can forget this day, forget it all happened. Forget everything I felt from the moment I got that call to the moment I saw you in that hospital bed", he begins. "But when the day comes, I am thankful I don't."

I look at him confused.

"I am thankful, because despite it all, despite what we've experienced the last few years, I can say I'm proud. I am proud and happy of the woman my daughter has become." The tears start falling faster; he keeps stroking my hair.

"Darling, I love you and nothing will ever change that. I know life hasn't been the easiest ride for you, but I hope the rest of what you have to face is every form of pure happiness." He kisses the top of my head gently.

"But it is because I love you, and because I am your dad, that I must ask if you are going in to work tomorrow or not? Because if not, I am more than happy to take another day off and stay with you again, but I need to let my boss know", he says and I see the worry etched between his brows. My dad isn't necessarily old, but he keeps fit and does what he can to stay healthy. But the past 7 years have taken a toll on the both of us in different ways. I witness my dad's black hair turn to grey in the space of a year, his shoulders sag lower and the creases on his face become ever more frequent. It was another thing I will always mourn for.

Between the sniffles, I reply back "I'll go in tomorrow, you don't need to take the day off."

He nods and says, "ok, that's good to hear because I was slightly worried your boss would text me again" and laughs.

I whip my head to him, "what did you just say?". He stops laughing and realises what he has said, his blue eyes widening in admission.

"Explain", I say.

"When he first brought you home, he took my number. Said he wanted me to message him updates on if were are okay after you woke up. That was the only time I messaged him, but then he texted me this afternoon asking if you were okay and that you told him you weren't feeling well."

Lucien has been texting my dad about me. Is he really that worried?

"We're a small team, he probably just wants to know if I'll be off another day to manage workload", I say, not sure if I'm trying to convince my dad or myself.

"If you say so darling", my dad replies back, still not sure what to think about Lucien texting him. I don't think my dad hates Lucien; in fact, I think he is rather fond of him. Especially when he brings me home in the horrible weather, but I know what my dad is insinuating. He's trying to check if there's something more, and to be honest, I don't know the answer to that question.

We get along great, both inside and outside the office, I can admit he's easy on the eyes, and every time we touch, my heart thunders in my chest. But anything more than just what we are now? I don't know.

"How about," my dad continues, "we watch a film? Some cheesy romcom you'll love and I'll hate? We can order pizza or we can just eat a tub of Ben and Jerries each?"

I smile at him and hug him tighter.

"I love you dad."

"I love you too darling."

"Ben and Jerries, I pick the movie" I smile back.

"Deal, I'll get us set up", he places a kiss on my forehead as he leaves my room and I hear him make his way to the living room.