Chapter 5 - The Gift in the Hospice
The hospice facility was warm, quiet, and smelled faintly of lavender and fresh linen.
Inside Room 104, my mother, Linda, lay in a comfortable adjustable bed beside a wide window overlooking a garden of dormant rose bushes. She looked frail, her white hair resting against the pillows, but her eyes lit up with incredible joy when the door opened.
"Clara... my sweet girl," my mother whispered, reaching out a thin, trembling hand.
"Mom," I wept, dropping to my knees beside her bed, kissing her cold hand, holding it against my cheek. "I'm here, Mom. I'm here."
Lily clambered up onto the side of the bed, dropping her gray bunny onto her grandmother's blanket. "Grandma! Look! I brought my dinosaur stickers!"
My mother smiled weakly, stroking Lily’s brown curls. Then, her eyes drifted over my shoulder to the doorway.
Dominic stood in the entrance, his broad frame filling the doorframe, his dark coat draped over his arm, looking entirely out of place in a small hospital room yet standing like an immovable wall of protection.
My mother looked at him, then at me, a soft, knowing smile touching her lips.
"You must be Mr. Moretti," my mother said softly.
Dominic stepped into the room, bowing his head respectfully. "Please, call me Dominic, Mrs. Highwood."
"Clara wrote to me about you," my mother said, her voice faint but clear. "She told me how kind you were to let her bring Lily to work every afternoon. She told me how safe she felt in your house."
I blushed deeply, looking down at the bedsheets. "Mom, please..."
Dominic walked up to the side of the bed. He reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a small, thick envelope made of heavy cream cardstock, laying it gently on the bedside table.
"What is this, Dominic?" my mother asked.
"That," Dominic said smoothly, "is the deed of purchase for the hospice facility and its surrounding ten acres."
I gasped, snapping my head up to look at him. "What?!"
"I bought the property this morning, Clara," Dominic revealed, looking down at me with an expression that made my pulse race. "The current owners were planning to sell to a commercial development firm at the end of the month. Under my ownership, your mother will remain in this room with round-the-clock private medical staff for as long as she needs, completely free of charge."
"Dominic... no," I stammered, tears streaming down my face. "I can't accept that! That costs hundreds of thousands of dollars! I can't repay you—"
"You're not paying me back, Clara," Dominic interrupted, his voice thick with an emotion he had hidden for four years. "For four years, I watched you work sixteen hours a day to pay for this room. I watched you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders without ever asking for help. I don't want your money."
My mother looked up at Dominic, her eyes brimming with grateful tears. "What do you want, Dominic?"
May you like
Dominic looked down at me, his dark eyes melting into pure, unadulterated devotion.
"I want the chance," Dominic whispered, "to be the man in Lily's drawing."
