I hate hospitals.
Not normal hate.
Real hate.
The kind that sits in your chest.
The kind that brings back memories you didn't invite.
That smell alone?
Drugs. Bleach. Sickness.
It makes my stomach twist.
Like something bad is already waiting for me inside.
And the crazy thing is…
we weren't even there yet.
But my heart was already panicking.
The bike ride was faster this time.
No slow cruising.
No jokes.
No teasing.
Just speed.
Cold wind slapping my face.
Ethan didn't talk.
Didn't even look back at me.
His jaw was tight.
Hands gripping the handle too hard.
I wrapped my arms around him again.
But this time it wasn't soft.
It wasn't cute.
It was fear.
Like if I let go, something bad would happen.
"Ethan…" I called quietly.
No answer.
"Who called you?"
Silence.
Only the sound of the engine.
Then finally—
"…I don't know," he said.
But his voice?
Too stiff.
Too forced.
He was lying.
And we both knew it.
When we got there, my heart sank.
Same hospital.
Same gate.
Same stupid white building.
The same place Lena almost died.
You've got to be kidding me.
Why here again?
Why us again?
Can life not rest for once?
He parked fast.
Didn't even wait properly.
Just got down and started walking.
I rushed after him.
"Ethan, slow down!"
He didn't.
I practically jogged to catch up.
Inside, nurses moving around.
People sitting.
Kids crying.
Machines beeping.
Everything too loud.
Too alive.
Too real.
I suddenly felt small.
Like the world was bigger than me again.
Like anything could go wrong.
His phone rang again.
Same number.
He stopped this time.
Stared at the screen.
Then answered.
"…we're here," he said.
We?
So they were expecting him?
My chest tightened.
Who exactly is "we"?
Before I could ask, someone called his name.
"Ethan?"
We both turned.
A woman.
Maybe late thirties.
Tired eyes.
Hair messy like she hasn't slept in days.
She looked like life had been beating her up.
She rushed over.
"You finally came," she said.
Her voice shaky.
Like she'd been crying.
Ethan froze.
"…Aunty May?"
Aunty?
My brain paused.
"You didn't pick my calls," she said, almost angry but mostly scared. "I didn't know what else to do."
"What happened?" he asked quickly.
"It's him."
Him?
My heart dropped.
"It's your dad."
Everything went quiet.
Even the hospital noise faded.
Like someone muted the world.
His dad?
I've never heard Ethan talk about his dad.
Not once.
Not even by mistake.
It's always just his mom.
Always.
So this…
This was new.
"What about him?" Ethan asked.
His voice changed.
Not soft anymore.
Hard.
Cold.
Like ice.
"He collapsed this morning," she said. "Stroke. They rushed him here."
Stroke.
God.
She grabbed his arm.
"They're saying it's serious. He keeps asking for you."
Ethan didn't react.
Didn't even blink.
Just stood there.
Blank.
Like she said the weather forecast.
I looked at him.
Trying to read his face.
Nothing.
No fear.
No sadness.
No shock.
Just… nothing.
And somehow that scared me more.
"You should go see him," she said gently.
He didn't move.
"He asked for you three times."
Still nothing.
"…Ethan?" she called again.
Then he finally spoke.
Quiet.
"But he hasn't asked for me in ten years."
My heart cracked a little hearing that.
Ten years?
What kind of father doesn't talk to his son for ten years?
Aunty May looked guilty.
"It's complicated—"
"It's not," he cut her off.
His voice sharp.
"He left. That's not complicated."
Oh.
Oh.
So that's it.
Now it makes sense.
The silence.
The never mentioning him.
The way Ethan always acts like he only has one parent.
He wasn't forgotten.
He was abandoned.
I slowly reached for his hand.
Didn't even think.
Just held it.
His fingers were cold.
But he squeezed mine back.
Tight.
Like I was the only thing holding him steady.
And for the first time since I met him…
Ethan looked scared.
Not loud scared.
Quiet scared.
The worst type.
"I don't know if I should go in," he whispered.
That broke me.
Because Ethan is always strong.
Always joking.
Always steady.
Seeing him unsure like this?
It hurt more than anything.
"Then don't go alone," I said softly.
He looked at me.
Eyes tired.
"You'll stay?"
That question…
Like he was scared I might disappear.
"Idiot," I muttered. "Where will I go?"
Something small lifted in his eyes.
Not a smile.
But close.
And together…
We walked toward the ward.
Slow steps.
Heavy steps.
Like each one meant something.
Like once we entered that room…
Nothing would ever be the same again.
And deep down…
I knew.
This wasn't just about his dad.
This was about all the things Ethan never talks about.
All the pain he hides behind jokes.
All the wounds he pretends don't exist.
Tonight?
They're all coming out.
And I'm about to see a side of him nobody else sees.