26: Please marry him!

Khana was awakened by her phone’s loud beeping which cut through her sleep like a knife. Groggily, she reached for it on the nightstand, squinting her eyes at the bright light before her. There were many missed calls and urgent messages from one person.

“What is wrong with this person? Do they have to disturb my peace so early in the morning?” she asked herself while still touching the surface of her nightstand.

She then groaned loudly and made an effort to get out of bed but only managed to sit up straight at its edge.

“Eleven missed calls? How is that even possible?” Khana said aloud with shock all over her face.

She was unable to press the redial button, as the screen flashed. 

"Khana, dear..."

Her heart raced as a sense of dread settled in her chest upon hearing her mom's subtle weep. She sat up quickly, the remnants of sleep clinging to her mind like cobwebs.

"Mom, what happened? You don't sound good," Khana asked, her voice trembling.

"Khana, please come to the hospital. It's your father. He had a heart attack. He's in the ICU."

The words on the screen hit her like a physical blow, and she felt the room spin around her. The world tilted on its axis, and Khana felt as if the floor had been pulled out from under her. Her father, always so strong and unwavering, now lying in a hospital bed fighting for his life? It was unthinkable.

 She scrambled out of bed, throwing on the first clothes she could find, and raced out the door, her heart pounding with fear and anxiety. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cold floor beneath her feet, grounding her in the harsh reality.

Without another word, they hurried to the hospital. The drive was a blur, Khana's mind racing with a thousand thoughts, none of them coherent.

The drive to the hospital was a blur of traffic lights and honking horns, her mind filled with worst-case scenarios and desperate prayers. When she finally arrived, she ran through the sterile corridors, the antiseptic smell of the hospital stinging her nostrils. She found her mother, Karylle, sitting in a waiting room, her face pale and drawn.

"Mom!" Khana cried, rushing to her. "What happened? How is Dad?"

Karylle stood up and pulled Khana into a tight embrace, her body trembling. "Oh, Khana," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Your father... he collapsed this morning. The doctors say it was a severe heart attack. He's in the ICU now, and they’re doing everything they can."

Khana felt her knees go weak, and she sank into a chair, her breath coming in shallow gasps. "But why? How did this happen?" she asked, her voice breaking.

Karylle sat beside her, holding her hand. "Your father has been under so much stress, Khana. Ever since we lost most shares of the company, he's been working himself to the bone, trying to find a way to support us. The pressure... it’s been too much for him."

Tears streamed down Khana's face as she absorbed her mother's words. Khana's heart ached with the weight of her mother's words. The loss of their family business had been a devastating blow, and she had seen how it had taken a toll on her father. But to think that it had led to this, to him fighting for his life in the ICU, was almost too much to bear.

"Khana," Karylle continued her voice barely above a whisper, "we need to talk about something important. Without the company, we're struggling. We're on the brink of losing everything. Richard... he can help us."

Khana's heart sank at the mention of Richard. At the mention of Richard, Khana stiffened. She knew her fiance well, a family friend whose company had the power to save them from financial ruin. But the price of that help was something she had been dreading.

"What are you saying, Mom?" Khana asked, though she already knew the answer.

Karylle squeezed her hand, her eyes pleading. "Richard has been supporting us since you agreed to marry him. I beg you to no longer delay the wedding. If you marry him soon, it could secure our future. It could save your father."

Khana felt a surge of anger and despair. "Mom, I am no longer sure if I still want to spend my lifetime with him."

"Khana, please," Karylle begged, her voice cracking. "This isn't just about money. It's about our future, about your father's legacy. We have no other options."

Khana stood up abruptly, pulling her hand away from her mother's grasp. "I can't believe you're asking me to do this," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "I need to think. I need to get out of here."

Without waiting for a response, Khana turned and fled from the waiting room, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and anger.

 She ran through the corridors, barely aware of where she was going, just needing to escape the suffocating air of the hospital. When she reached the parking lot, she got into her car and drove away, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

She drove aimlessly, the city blurring past her as she tried to process everything. Her father's heart attack, her mother's desperate plea, the weight of their family's future resting on her shoulders. She felt trapped, suffocated by the enormity of it all.

Eventually, she found herself pulling into the parking lot of a bar. The neon sign flickered invitingly, and she realized she needed something to numb the pain, even if just for a little while. She walked inside, the dim lighting and murmur of voices a stark contrast to the chaos in her mind.

She made her way to the bar and ordered a drink, her hands still shaking. The alcohol burned as it went down, but it provided a momentary relief from the storm inside her. She drank another, and then another until the edges of her reality began to blur.

Time passed in a haze, and Khana lost track of how many drinks she had consumed. The room spun around her, the voices and music blending into a dull hum. She felt a presence beside her and looked up at her vision swimming.

A man stood there, his features blurry but familiar. 

"Henry?" she mumbled, her voice slurred and unsure. She blinked, trying to focus, but everything was a distorted mess.

The man leaned closer, his voice gentle and concerned. "Khana, are you okay?"