“It’s fine. No worries.” While he had wanted to live his last days at home, he’d struggled with accepting help from his only child. He had practically thrown a fit when she’d handed over most of her responsibilities at work to Gwen, her best friend and business partner, in order to move home and help her mom with his care.

Once she wiped up the last of the water, she tossed the towel on the bathroom counter, refilled his glass, and sat on the side of the bed, holding his hand. “How’d you sleep?”

“Meh. Better than the night before.”

“That’s good.”

He raised one eyebrow and asked, “What about you? I’ve been up for a few minutes and it looked like you were having a nightmare. You were squirming around and making little noises.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “Oh, um, it was nothing. Just a dream.”

He chuckled. “By the look on your face, I’m guessing those little noises were from something a little more pleasurable than a nightmare.”

“Dad, please stop talking.” She covered her face with her hands.

“Never gonna happen.” He squeezed her knee and she looked up. “So, tell me. When is the last time you went on a date?” he asked as he narrowed his eyes at her.

“Recently.”

“How recent?”

“Um.”

“Please don’t tell me it was with that horrible Diane.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Come on, sweetie. You two broke up, what, nine months ago?”

“Something like that,” she mumbled, knowing it’d been over a year.

His face softened, and he looked into her eyes for a beat. “I’m worried about you, Reagan. I just want to see you happy. You need to live your life and not get bogged down with…” He lifted his arms, gesturing to all the medical equipment surrounding them in the spare bedroom, “…this.”

The diagnosis of pancreatic cancer six months prior had come as a shock to the family, and while Reagan and her mom had fallen into worry, her dad had reacted the same as he had to any unexpected news in his life: with calm acceptance. He was her hero, and she wanted to spend as much time with him as she could—what little he had left anyway.

“I know. I will when—” She stopped and stared at him with wide eyes and the prick of tears forming.

“When I’m gone?”

“I’m so sorry, Dad. That’s not…I mean…”

He reached for her hand and squeezed. “You shouldn’t wait til I’m gone, kiddo. You gotta live your life every day. Look at me. I’m proof that we don’t always get as much time as we want.”