Isla's POV
It was 7:58 a.m. when I woke up to a text message from my dad that changed the course of my life forever.
How are you, pumpkin? Come to the house as soon as you can. I'd like to see you today.
At that moment, I hadn't realized the weight such a seemingly innocent message held. It looked like a mundane text from a father who simply missed his only child, whom he loved so much.
Ever since I had moved out of my dad's house a few months ago to live on my own, I hadn't really seen him much. He was always busy with one trip or another and often canceled our plans to attend various business meetings. So, seeing his message that morning came as a pleasant surprise.
My mom had died in a car crash when I was eleven years old, and it had been devastating for my dad. I had watched him go from the boisterous and funny young man he had been to an old, sad man in a matter of months. My mom had been the absolute love of his life, and her death had taken something from him that could never be replaced.
Taking it upon myself to be the strong one between us, I had swallowed my broken heart and decided to take care of my dad. I had learned to cook and do the laundry because we hadn't had maids back then. As a result of my efforts to help him, I had started slipping in school. My grades had dropped so badly that my teacher had to call my dad in. That was when he had finally awakened from his state of limbo and saw how I had been carrying the weight of our little family of two on my small shoulders. It had broken him completely.
He had worked on himself to become a better father, managed to return to a semblance of his former self, and we had been inseparable ever since. It had always been me and my dad against the world.
So it had been no surprise when I called my salon to cancel the appointment I had made for the day and rescheduled it for another time.
My father always came first.
At exactly 11:25 a.m., I arrived at my dad's house and knocked on the door. I was hit by a wave of shock when I saw the man who opened it.
This wasn't my father.
No.
He wore my father's face and had the same big smile and familiar glint in his eyes whenever he saw me—but this man's face was sunken, a stark contrast to my dad's usually chubby cheeks. He looked sick. Really sick.
I stood frozen for a few seconds. My dad's smile never wavered as I took in the image of the man who had become my father.
When was the last time I had seen him? Three months ago? Four?
What had happened to him? Had he not been eating well?
"Isla Mae, my darling girl!" my dad exclaimed, opening his arms. I walked into them. He had lost so much weight, but the hug felt exactly the same—warm and comforting.
"What happened to you, Dad?" I finally asked, still in his arms.
"Is that any way to greet your father?" he scolded, flicking his index finger playfully against my forehead.
"I'm sorry. How are you, Dad?" I asked as we moved into the living room.
"I'm fine, my dear," he said.
I doubted the sincerity of that statement. He looked frail and tired, but I stayed quiet.
I couldn't stay quiet for long—not when it came to my father's health.
"Dad… are you sick?" My voice was small and weak. I was afraid to say the words out loud.
He looked at me and smiled, and I knew then that he couldn't keep it from me any longer. He said the words that shattered my heart into pieces.
"I have cancer."
My ears started ringing immediately. It felt like I had been slapped simultaneously on both cheeks, leaving me almost deaf. I saw his lips moving, but I couldn't hear anything he was saying.
Had I really gone deaf?
My vision turned blurry.
Was I going blind too?
The tears that had blurred my sight began trickling down my cheeks in droplets, and in no time, they became a steady stream.
His arms wrapped around me, holding me, rocking me gently. He shouldn't have been the one consoling me. I should have been the one taking care of him.
"Is that why you've been avoiding me?" I managed to ask, struggling not to choke on my words.
He nodded. "I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't want to see you hurt. And I was undergoing chemo—it took a toll on me."
It broke my heart even more to think that he had gone through that alone.
"How long have you known?"
"A long time."
"You should have told me, Dad. You didn't have to do that on your own." I broke down again.
"Isla Mae, look at me," he said, cupping my face.
I looked up at him.
"There's no need for you to cry. I don't want you feeling sorry for me, because I'm happy. I've lived a good life with the most wonderful gift a father could ask for—a perfect daughter."
"Don't talk like that, Dad. You sound like you're already giving up." I wiped the tears from my face.
"Anyway, that wasn't the only reason I called you here today."
A strange look crossed his face as he backed away from me and averted his gaze.
"What's going on?" I asked, uneasy but strangely reassured by the idea that no news could be worse than 'I have cancer.'
"First of all, I want you to know that everything I've done for you, I've done out of love—to give you a better life than I had."
"What is it, Dad?" I didn't like the direction this was heading.
"I've fixed your marriage," he said in a rush.
I stared at him in shock. Surely I hadn't heard him right.
"What?"
"You should hear me out first, Isla," he said softly.
"I'm sorry, wait… you did what?" I shouted, standing to my feet.
He winced, and I immediately regretted raising my voice. I sat back down beside him.
"Dad, please tell me you're joking." I took his lean hands in mine and pleaded.
"It's for your own good, Isla. I won't be around much longer, and I can't leave you alone in this world, knowing there's no one, no family, to take care of you."
Tears began falling from my eyes again.
"The person I found for you is a wonderful man from a very loving family. You'll have the love and support of people who care about you when I'm gone, and you'll never have to worry about money, because he comes from wealth. You have to see that I'm doing this to make sure you're cared for, even after I'm gone. God knows I'll roll in my grave if any man ever dares to mistreat you. I can't let that happen."
I felt numb. It was too much to take in for one day. I knew that learning my dad had a terminal disease was the worse news of the two, but how was I supposed to handle the second part?
He had made plans to take care of me after his death—even if it was the worst plan I had ever heard, it was also the most selfless thing a father could do.
"Dad… do you even know me at all? What on earth made you think I'd want to marry a complete stranger?"
"Because it's a wish from a sick father to his only child. Let me do this for you—it would make me really happy to know you're being taken care of. I would never marry you off to a stranger or someone I didn't trust. His family approached me with the proposal, and I couldn't imagine a better family for you."
"Then who is it? Who's the sick psycho that wants to marry someone he's never met?" I asked, getting truly angry for the first time that day.
"The son of my friend, Alexander Aldridge. I don't think you've met him. His name is Landon. Landon Aldridge."
My jaw hit the floor.