When He Saved Me

t h i r t y - f i v e

"She's an incredible person you would like her," I replied, my voice a little softer, a little more vulnerable. "She's... she's my best friend. We're... well, we're kind of together now. But it's more than that. She's been through so much and we've been there for each other through everything even  when I didn't think I could keep going. She's been the best part of my life these past few months that I've known her, and to be honest I don't think I'd be here with you if it wasn't for her."

My father's expression remained steady, but I could see a flicker of something in his eyes something like understanding, maybe even pride. He had always been hard to read, always keeping his emotions guarded behind a wall that Asher had never quite been able to break through. But in this moment, something seemed to shift.

"I don't know what happens next," I said quietly, my gaze not leaving my father's. "But I'm okay. I'm really okay now. And I think... I think it's because of the people I have in my life. People like Madison."

My father smiled again, a slow, weary smile that didn't seem forced, even if it was faint. "I'm glad to hear that, Asher," he said, his voice quiet but steady. "You've come a long way. I'm so proud of you son and I know I never said that enough and I'm so sorry."  he paused and then softly added. "You deserve someone who'll be there for you. Someone who understands you."

I swallowed, unsure how to respond to such simple words. my father had never been the kind of person to offer such direct validation. But now, in this small, fragile moment, it felt real. And somehow, it felt like a kind of peace.

"She's here with me waiting outside," I said quietly. "I'd like for you to meet her I want her to know the person you were, the person you are, even now. I want her to know how much you've meant to me even if it's been hard to say it." 

My father's eyes softened even further, the faintest trace of a tear glistening in the corner of his eye. "I'd like that too, son," he murmured. "I'd like that very much."

"I'll be right back," I said quietly, glancing back at my father one last time before stepping toward the door.

Madison was sitting just outside, her legs tucked beneath her on the cold plastic chair. When she saw me approach, she looked up, her eyes filled with concern but softened by a warmth that I  had come to rely on. She had been my anchor throughout so much the one person who always knew when I was falling apart, even when I couldn't put it into words.

"Hey," she said, her voice a gentle balm against the weight of the moment. She stood up, walking toward him with steady steps. "How's he doing?"

I swallowed, my throat tight, and shook my head. "He's not doing good," I said. "We've... we've talked. It's more than I thought we'd ever get to. But I want you to meet him."

Madison's brows furrowed slightly in surprise. "Now?" she asked softly. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I said, taking a deep breath. "He's... he's ready. And I want you to know him, Madison. He's been a part of my story, and I think it's important for you to see that."

With a soft nod, Madison followed me into the room. The air was thick with the quiet hum of machines, the faint beeping sound cutting through the silence. My father was still propped up in the bed, his frail body a contrast to the strong, determined figure I remembered from childhood. But his eyes, even now, held a depth of emotion that hadn't been there in years.

Madison took a step forward, her expression kind and open as she looked at my father. She gave him a small, respectful smile, her hand clasped gently in front of her.

Madison stepped forward shyly, "Hi I'm Madison."

My father took her hand, his grip weak but firm, his eyes studying her with a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Madison," he repeated, "You're the one who's been keeping him grounded, huh?"