Chapter 7

The door to the examination room clicked open. Dr. Ramsey stepped out, pulling off his latex gloves.

Emaline quickly wiped her eyes and stepped away from Cullen's chest, though she immediately missed his warmth.

"He is stable," Dr. Ramsey said. "But he is awake, and he is refusing to let us move him to a permanent room. He is demanding to go home."

Emaline groaned, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. "I will talk to him."

She pushed past the doctor and walked into the room.

Walter was sitting up slightly, an oxygen tube taped beneath his nose. He looked frail, but his jaw was set in that familiar, stubborn line.

"I am not staying, Emmy," Walter rasped before she could even speak. "This place costs a fortune. I am going home."

Emaline walked to the side of the bed. She grabbed the metal bedrail.

"Dad, you cannot leave," Emaline said desperately. "The charity program is paying for it."

"I do not believe in charity," Walter said, turning his head away. "I will not leave you with a mountain of debt."

Emaline's mind raced. She needed a lie. A big one. One that would make him stay. She glanced back at the small window in the door. Cullen was standing in the hallway, watching her.

She took a deep breath.

"It is not charity," Emaline blurted out. "It is my boyfriend."

Walter snapped his head back to look at her. "Your what?"

"My boyfriend," Emaline repeated, her heart hammering in her throat. "He is wealthy. He is paying for everything. He arranged the doctor. He wants you to get better."

Walter stared at her, his eyes narrowing. "You have a boyfriend? Since when? Why have I never met him?"

"We have been keeping it quiet," Emaline lied, her palms sweating. "But he loves me, Dad. And he wants to take care of our family."

Walter looked unconvinced. "If this man is real, I want to see him. Right now."

Emaline froze. She had trapped herself.

Before she could figure out how to backtrack, the door swung open.

Cullen walked into the room. He was holding two steaming cups of coffee. He looked completely relaxed, as if he belonged there.

He walked straight to Emaline and handed her a cup. Then he set the other one on Walter's bedside table.

"Black coffee, sir," Cullen said, his voice smooth and respectful. "Emaline mentioned you hate the hospital tea."

Walter looked at the tall, impeccably dressed man. Then he looked at Emaline.

"Dad," Emaline said, her voice shaking slightly. "This is Cullen. My... my boyfriend."

Cullen did not miss a beat. He stepped forward and held out his hand to Walter.

"It is an honor to finally meet you, sir," Cullen said. "I am Cullen Preston. I am sorry it had to be under these circumstances."

Walter hesitated, then reached out and shook Cullen's hand. His eyes darted between Cullen and Emaline.

Suddenly, Cullen reached out and took Emaline's free hand. He laced his fingers through hers. His grip was warm and possessive. Emaline's breath hitched, a blush rushing to her cheeks.

Walter saw the blush. The suspicion in his eyes began to melt.

"You know about our situation?" Walter asked Cullen, his voice gruff. "We do not have anything."

"I know everything, sir," Cullen said, looking down at Emaline with a softness that made her stomach flip. "Emaline is the strongest woman I have ever met. Taking care of her, and her family, is my privilege."

Walter's eyes grew wet. He looked at their joined hands.

"Will you make her happy?" Walter asked, his voice cracking.

Cullen squeezed Emaline's hand. He looked straight into Walter's eyes.

"I give you my word," Cullen said firmly. "I will do everything in my power to protect her."

A tear slipped down Walter's cheek. He nodded slowly, sinking back into the pillows.

"Alright," Walter whispered. "I will stay. I will do the treatments."

Emaline let out a breath she felt like she had been holding for years. She squeezed Cullen's hand tightly, silently thanking him.

"When I get out of here," Walter said, looking at Cullen, "you are coming over for dinner."

"I look forward to it, sir," Cullen smiled.

Emaline and Cullen walked out of the room together. Once the door closed behind them, Emaline immediately dropped his hand. Her palm felt cold without his touch.

"Thank you," she whispered, staring at the floor. "For playing along."

Cullen reached out and tilted her chin up with his index finger, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were dark and intense.

"I was not playing, Emaline," Cullen said softly. "I meant it."