The hospital’s parking lot was unusually quiet for a weekday morning. Felix parked his car in one of the reserved spots, unfastened his seatbelt, and leaned back in his seat for a second.
He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly.
Okay. Deep breath. No panic. No fake smiles. Just family.
The mont he stepped out, he spotted his parents just arriving. His mother waved as she got out of the passenger seat, her high heels clicking against the pavent as she approached. His father, hands tucked into the pockets of his beige coat, nodded with quiet familiarity.
"Felix," his mother said, coming closer. "You made it."
"Of course," Felix replied, returning the brief hug she gave him. "You think I’d let you visit Grandpa alone?"
His father clapped a hand on his shoulder, firm and brief. "Good man."
Together, they walked into the hospital lobby, where soft instruntal music floated from the ceiling speakers and the scent of antiseptic filled the air. The receptionist at the main desk offered them a polite smile.
"Good morning. Who are you here to see?"
"Rowan Crawford," Felix answered for them.
"Room 702, VVIP wing. It’s on the top floor, down the left hallway."
"Thank you."
The elevator ride was silent. His mother adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder, and his father scrolled through his phone with a furrowed brow. Felix watched the digital numbers tick upward as the elevator climbed, but his mind was elsewhere—mories of his grandfather’s laughter, his booming voice, the stories he’d told by the fireplace over the holidays.
When the elevator doors slid open, the VVIP wing greeted them with walls painted in calming earth tones. The lighting was warm, the air clean, the silence soothing rather than sterile.
Room 702 stood at the far end of the corridor.
Felix reached for the handle and opened the door.
Inside, Rowan Crawford sat up in bed, dressed in a navy hospital gown with a thick blanket pulled over his legs. His silver hair was neatly combed back, and though there were signs of fatigue on his face—pale skin, slight tremor in his hand—his eyes lit up the mont they entered.
"Ah! My favorite disappointnt is here," Rowan announced with a grin, arms slightly open. "Co in, co in."
Felix laughed under his breath. "That’s one way to greet your grandson, Grandpa."
Beside him, his grandma, Marsha, rolled her eyes from her armchair. "Ignore him. He’s been dramatic all morning. The nurses love it."
"Helps flirt," Rowan added with a wink, and Marsha lightly smacked his arm.
"Flirt with a heart monitor strapped to your chest?" she scoffed. "Please."
They all chuckled as Felix and his parents approached the bed. Felix leaned down first, gripping his grandfather’s hand.
"You scared us," Felix said softly. "How are you feeling?"
Rowan huffed. "Like soone yanked the batteries out of and replaced them with soggy toast. But I’ll live. For now."
"His heart was irregular this morning," Marsha explained, her expression softening. "It skipped a beat and he fainted in the kitchen."
"Skipped a beat because she said she’d stop baking," Rowan muttered under his breath. "That’s the real tragedy."
Felix smiled, squeezing his hand. "Well, thank you for scaring the entire family just to complain about banana bread."
"I only scare the ones who love most," Rowan replied with a grin. Then, with a mock sigh, he added, "Now if only I had great-grandchildren to pass all this charm on to."
Here we go.
Felix straightened, trying not to laugh. "You’re barely recovering, and we’re already back to this topic?"
Rowan crossed his arms. "What else am I supposed to do while stuck in this bed? Reflect on my taxes?"
His mother, standing at the foot of the bed, gave him a warning look. "Rowan, don’t pressure him."
"I’m not pressuring, I’m encouraging," he corrected, waving a finger in the air. "He’s what—forty now? Handso, smart, decent inco—what’s stopping you, Felix?"
Felix pinched the bridge of his nose. "I’m not forty and you want the short list or the long one?"
Marsha chuckled and handed Rowan a glass of water. "He’s seeing soone," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "I can tell. Look at the way he’s dodging."
All eyes turned to Felix.
Felix blinked. "Why am I under investigation all of a sudden?"
"Because we know you," Rowan said, then leaned forward slightly. "Look, if there’s no one, just say the word. We still know plenty of lovely families. I can set you up with soone. We’re running out of ti, son. I need to see my great-grandkids while I can still rember my na."
Felix exhaled and looked around the room. His father was clearly holding back a smirk. His mother looked hopeful. His grandparents waited, expectant.
And in that mont, it ca to him—Katherine’s smile, her eyes narrowing in confusion when she was curious, the way she tried to hold everything together even when she looked tired. Her calm voice when she spoke to Maya and Nathan. The quiet disappointnt in her eyes last night when he sent the ssage.
She’d been there. Always.
He couldn’t say nothing anymore.
He cleared his throat.
"Well... actually," he began slowly, "there is soone."
Rowan’s eyes widened. "Oh?"
"She’s... wonderful," Felix said, surprising even himself at how easily the words ca out. "Smart. Kind. Has a laugh that sneaks up on you."
Marsha leaned forward, suddenly delighted. "Oh, my! What’s her na?"
Felix hesitated for half a beat. Then, softly—almost reverently—he said, "Katherine."
There was a soft pause in the room, followed by murmured "Katherines" as the family committed the na to mory.
Rowan grinned and pointed at him. "Now that’s a na that belongs in our family."
Felix rolled his eyes, chuckling.
"I want to et her," Marsha said with a bright smile. "You’ll bring her, yes?"
"Soon," Felix said with a nod. "You’ll et her. Both of you."
Rowan extended his hand again, this ti more gently.
"You promise?"
Felix took it.
"I promise."
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