He's Sick?

Luke

“I need you to come home,” she said. “That’s all.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll schedule the jet for this afternoon.”

“Oh, and Luke,” she said. “Don’t bring Sophia.”

I ground my teeth together. She couldn’t resist throwing in her two cents about my “girlfriend.” I didn’t want the weekend Sophia and I spent together to go to waste, so I said, “Why not? You need to accept that she is a part of our—”

“Don’t say ‘family,’” she said. “She’s not a part of our family. Father needs his real family right beside him. This isn’t some show.”

By her words, it almost sounded like she knew that Sophia and I had played them. Or was she hoping? Heaven forbid I chose someone for myself and was happy.

“Fine,” I said. “I won’t bring her.” It wasn’t as if I knew where she was. If she hadn’t posted the article about Father and his succession yet, maybe she hadn’t returned to the Post. Though, this news would get around soon enough.

“I love you, son,” she said and then hung up the phone.

Tossing all thoughts