Salvation : Book 3

CHAPTER 16 : Can't Hold Us Down

My father was seated at the head of the table when I walked in. He shot to his feet the moment he noticed me standing by the entrance. "You're up," he said and I nodded. "Should you be up?" He asked as he took a step away from the table, heading my way.

   "I'm feeling much better," I told him as I waved him off. I made a step towards the mahogany table. My father stopped in his tracks halfway towards me.

    "Are you sure?" He asked, his brows furrowed in concern.

    "Yes," I said as I took my seat.

    "Oh," my father said before returning to his own seat, across from mine. In front of him was his laptop and several documents. He closed the laptop as soon as he was settled in his seat, and stacked the documents on top of it, pushing them aside.

    "Are you hungry?" He asked. I nodded as my stomach growled. I hadn't eaten anything in a while. Since my return home I'd found that my appetite had diminished. And whatever I did manage to consume, I found hard to keep down. This was the first time in the three days I'd been awake that I felt well enough to want to eat something.  

    "I'll have Harrod bring you something," he said before rising to his feet again. I let him leave the room as I slumped into my chair, sighing heavily. Maybe I wasn't feeling quite as well as I'd told him. It was true, I was feeling better but my body was still feeling considerably sore. I'd broken a sweat just coming downstairs. My bones creaked and whined with each step but I wouldn't give into the pain. I would push it aside, because today I was going to see Adrian.

      It'd been almost a week since our return from the underworld and within those six days I hadn't seen him once. I was itching for it. I needed to see him, maybe to just confirm he was actually here, and I hadn't just dreamt him being alive. I wanted to hold him, be around him, talk to him, prove it was him. My pain wasn't important, I'd rest after I came home.

      My father returned ten minutes later with Harrod behind him. Harrod was carrying a tray; on which he had a fresh pitcher of coffee, the aroma of the coffee beans immediately wafted through the air. I took a good whiff of it, savoring the scent. He also had a plate with toast, scrambled eggs and bacon. Harrod sat the tray beside me, placing the plate in front of me as well as a mug. He filled the mug to the brim with piping hot coffee. 

      "Thank you," I said before Harrod excused himself. My father resumed his seat at the head of the table, with his coffee cup.

       I dove right into the meal, taking a huge chunk of the toast, before stuffing a folk full of eggs into my mouth. It so delicious and the moan that escaped me, was proof of how much I was enjoying my food. My father chuckled and I rose my gaze to meet his. My cheeks flushed as I wiped the sides of my mouth.

      "Aren't you eating?" I asked. He shrugged.

      "I ate earlier," he told me before taking a sip of his coffee.

      "Oh, okay," I said as I scooped another folk full of eggs. The meal continued in silence. My father kept his eyes on me, which made me nervous. I shrunk under his intent gaze. Why was he looking at me? I swallowed my last bite before I said anything.

     "What?" I said bashfully. He knitted his brows before blinking twice. "You were staring," I pointed out.

     "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't realize. It's just... It's so good to have you home again. I missed you," he told me and I squirmed in my seat at the unusual compassion in his tone. Since my return, my father had been like this, showing me more affection and concern than he used to. My brush with death, or maybe it was his brush with death, whatever it was, it had awoken something. I didn't mind, he was being more of the father I'd hoped for growing up.