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A Stroke of Luck

JAMES

“James, you don’t mean that!” Destiny said, her gentle touch on my arm sending a shiver down my spine.

Oh, but I did. The weight of my words hung heavy in the air.

“James, come with me to the hospital. Please,” Dad pleaded, holding the limo's door open, its sleek black exterior gleaming in the interior light, a stark contrast to the darkness in my heart.

"Now, why would I do that? He's probably too stubborn to die, anyway. Plus, he hates me," I scoffed, the bitterness dripping from my words like venom. Although, the thought of being by his bedside filled me with a sick satisfaction, a twisted desire to see him suffer.

"He's still your family, James," Destiny prodded, her voice heavy with empathy and understanding.

"He needs your forgiveness, James. Besides, it's for your own sake as well," my father's concern seeped into his words, contrasting with the strained relationship we had shared for years.

I shrugged, the weight of indifference settling on my shoulders. "Yeah, well. Des
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