Chapter 79 Chapter Seventy Nine: The Bare Minimum 2
Chapter 79 Chapter Seventy Nine: The Bare Minimum 2
(Lior's POV)
He paused, staring at my face for no reason, before continuing.
“I've handled their accommodations. If there's a need for the caregiver to stay with your father around the clock, I can adjust the agreement we made to accommodate that.”
I shook my head. “You've done enough. He doesn't need a live-in caregiver. My stepmother can manage.”
Adrian looked like he wanted to argue, but his phone rang.
He picked it up: “Okay. He'll be with you in a moment.”
He ended the call and placed the phone on his desk. “They're waiting outside.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“Call me if anything comes up.”
“I will.”
I left his office. I picked up my bag from my desk and took the elevator downstairs.
When the doors opened into the lobby, I immediately spotted two people standing near the entrance.
A man and a woman.
They looked like they were waiting for someone.
As soon as I approached, the man smiled. “You must be Mr. Lior?”
“Yes.”
He extended his hand. “I'm Daniel. I'm the dietician.”
The woman beside him smiled politely. “And I'm Maya. I'm the caregiver.”
“It's nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
Before I could say anything else, another man approached us.
“Mr. Lior?”
“Yes?”
“Mr. Valehart instructed me to drive you.”
I glanced toward the entrance, and saw a black car was waiting outside.
“Alright.”
The three of us got into the back seat.
As soon as we started moving, I pulled out my phone.
“My father has decompensated cirrhosis.”
Both of them became more attentive. I explained everything the doctor had told me; his condition, the symptoms, his drinking, the treatment plan, the things we needed to watch for, then I pulled out the folded piece of paper I'd written after the appointment.
“I wrote down the nutritional recommendations.”
I handed it to Daniel.
He unfolded it and read through it carefully. “This is helpful.”
“I want to make sure he's getting everything he needs.”
“We'll work with what the doctor recommended,” Daniel assured me. “I'll also assess what he's currently eating and make adjustments where necessary.”
I nodded.
“And Maya, he can be stubborn.”
She smiled.“I've worked with stubborn patients before.”
“He still drinks.”
“I understand.”
“Please don't let him convince you that one drink isn't a big deal.”
She laughed softly. “I'll keep that in mind.”
The drive continued quietly after that.
When we finally arrived at my father's house, I stepped out first.
I led them inside and found my stepmother.
“Ma.”
Her eyes immediately went to the two people behind me.
“These are professionals I've hired to help with Dad's care.”
Her expression brightened. “Oh.”
She quickly welcomed them inside.
I introduced them properly and explained what each of them would be doing.
Then I took them to the backyard, where my step mother said my father was.
My father was sitting beneath the shade, smoking and drinking a bottle of beer.
I stopped. “Dad.”
He looked up. His eyes moved from me to the people behind me. “What are they doing here?”
“I told you I'd get help.”
My stepmother hurried to explain. “They're here to help with your treatment and food.”
My father lifted the bottle. “I know you're about to complain, but it's just a beer.”
I stared at him. “It's just a beer?”
He shrugged. “Not hard liquor.”
I closed my eyes for a second. “Dad.”
He took another sip. “I know what the doctor said.”
“And yet you're still drinking.”
“I'm cutting down.”
“That doesn't mean you should still be drinking just to use “cutting down” as an excuse for your drinking.”
He shrugged again. “I’ve told you, if I'm dying, I don't want to spend my last days miserable.”
My chest tightened. “Stop saying that.”
He looked at me. “It's the truth. I don't think there's hope for me.”
“No.” I shook my head. “You're going to follow the treatment plan.”
He didn't argue. Instead, he looked away.
I turned to Daniel and Maya. “I'll give you both my number.”
We exchanged contacts.
I explained that I had to get back to work but they could call me whenever they needed anything.
My stepmother stayed with them while I headed back toward the car.
I had barely taken a few steps when I heard footsteps behind me.
I stopped, turned around, but saw nothing. I looked around for a few seconds before continuing.
Maybe I'd imagined it. Stress does numbers to the brain.
I reached the car.
As I opened the door, something caught my attention in the side mirror.
A man.
He was standing some distance away, wearing a black hoodie, his face was mostly hidden…
He raised something in his hand.
It's a camera. He was taking a picture of me.
My heart skipped. But I didn't turn around, I didn't react, I simply opened the car door and got inside as calmly as I could.
I kept my movements slow, normal, like I hadn't seen anything.
The door closed.
I stared straight ahead, my hands tightening around my bag.
Who the hell was that?