After the Sun Sets (18+)

CHAPTER 1a - Blasphemy pt.2

Jona was in bed. His head was raised and his torso was supported well by pillows. He should have been comfortable but Lora registered the scowl fixed on his lips.

"They're not coming, are they?" Jonathan barked without even looking at her.

"Krista has lessons till five and Jess has an assignment due..."

"Jessica. That fucking bitch!" He pounded his fists on the over-bed table. He didn't have much strength in his forearms, but the flimsy table couldn't withstand a lot of force. It fell over with a bang.

"Jonathan, she is your daughter!" Lora said raising her voice as she spun the table back to its upright position.

"My daughter? My daughter left me to go live with some hooligan in my own fucking apartment. She's a fucking bitch and you and your holy ass know it, Goddammit!"

Lora's face reddened at his foul language. "There is no need to mention the Lord's name in vain."

"What? Are you testing me? Are you bloody serious? Look at me, Lora!" he roared. "I'm forty-nine years old and stuck in a wheelchair like an old man. My daughters hate me and want nothing to do with me. And you're telling me I'm the bad guy for cursing? You're worse than her and that devil she is shacking up with!"

"Jona, stop! They're just young and in love and they don't really know what they're doing," she said, secretly hoping that someday the Lord will make her see sense and forgive her for living with a man out of wedlock.

"She shamed me! She's an ungrateful..."

At that moment, the door flew open and a man in green scrubs and a stethoscope around his neck strode in with so much authority that the pair froze midst argument. He was thin, slightly broad-shouldered with a young face, furrowed eyebrows and an irate expression that made him look blazing. He looked from one to the other, clearly upset with all the commotion they were causing.

Lora felt her cheeks redden as his eyes met hers. She tried to look away but something about his light green irises and the way they were focused on her rendered her incapable of dropping her gaze to the floor.

"Yes? Can I help you?" Jonathan confronted rudely.

The young man barely tore his eyes away from Lora as he raised an eyebrow and all but scoffed in reply. "I doubt that. I am Dr Owen Shaw, Senior Registrar of this ward. I'm essentially here to do your pre-op but I would appreciate it if you could keep it down. Believe it or not, you're not the only patient we have here."

Jonathan looked like he would like nothing more than for Dr Owen Shaw to spontaneously combust into flames, but he said nothing. Lora, on the other hand, was caught in a battle between her awe and shame and heard herself mumbling a quick apology as the neurosurgeon dragged a chair beside the bed and flipped through the file in his hands.

"First things first," he started, scratching the light stubble across his face. "You are scheduled for a pretty complicated procedure so I'd like to go over what I will be doing to you tomorrow. I want to make sure any questions or concerns you have are addressed."

"You? No. Mr Zahara is doing my surgery," Jona protested indignantly, beads of sweat forming on his hot skin.

Dr Owen Shaw's eyes settled on Jonathan. His features softened but his gaze was solid. Assuring. "Mr Zahara has other commitments abroad. He won't be back until next month. Don't worry, Mr Scicluna, I would never have agreed to do the procedure if I wasn't absolutely confident that I am competent enough."

"Competent enough?" Jona spluttered, eyes riveting to Lora, whose heart had started to race.

She appreciated Jonathan's worry. The doctor seemed to be somewhere in his early thirties and while she believed he must be unquestionably talented to have become a Senior Registrar at such a young age, she couldn't ignore the gnawing feeling that perhaps he wasn't experienced enough to operate on someone who's spine was as debilitated as Jonathan's.