Signs Left Behind
Chapter 16 - Father and Daughter
It was Monday morning. Isabel was immediately rushed to the hospital. Seeing her father lying on the bed, still weakened by his illness, broke her down into tears of resignation. Exhausted from the endless journey and the thoughts that had haunted her over the past hours, she was grateful for that sincere and safe embrace.
Her father, in turn, was moved by the surprise, knowing how far away she was and not having had the chance to talk to her even over the phone to reassure her about his condition.
"My little girl, I didn’t want you to worry about me," he said.
"I couldn’t stay there without knowing how you really were," Isabel replied, cupping his face while he smiled at her lovingly.
Meanwhile, a shadow appeared at the door. It was Ethan, standing motionless in the doorway, holding a cup of hot coffee. His gaze met Isabel’s, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze.
It had only been eight months since they last saw each other, yet to her, it felt like an eternity.
She looked at him as if he were a ghost from the past, a shadow of a life she tried to leave behind.
The air in the room suddenly became heavy. The steady beeping of her father’s heart monitor contrasted sharply with the rapid beating in her own chest.
"Ethan…" she whispered, unable to hide the shock in her voice.
He swallowed hard but didn’t move. He wore a denim jacket, his hair slightly tousled—a rare sight for a man who always wore a suit and tie.
"Izzy," he finally responded, his voice low, almost a whisper.
She tightened her grip around the bag, still slung across her shoulder as if trying to anchor herself to something tangible. She prepared herself for many things upon returning to London—for the pain of seeing her father so fragile, for the chaos of everything she discovered about her mother. But not for this. Even though he called her to inform her about her father’s condition, she didn’t expect to find him at the hospital.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.
Ethan lowered his gaze for a moment before locking eyes with her again. "I thought maybe you would need someone by your side."
A shiver ran down Isabel’s spine. Ethan’s tone was sincere. He looked at her with tender eyes, as if he wanted to apologize. She glanced down at her father and gave him a strained smile.
"Why don’t you two go get something at the café? That way, you can recover from the trip." William Cooper took charge of the situation. After all, they were still legally husband and wife, and seeing them together gave him hope that they might resolve their issues and perhaps return to what they once were.
Isabel sighed and nodded, reluctant to hurt her father’s feelings.
The two of them left the room together and headed toward the cardiology ward’s elevator.
They remained silent for most of the time and exchanged glances every now and then.
They exited the main entrance of the hospital, crossed the street, and entered the café, where they found a seat at the only free table by the large window overlooking the street.
At first, they remained silent. It was hard to find the right words after all this time, after years of living together yet feeling like strangers in their own house.
And now, there they were, sitting face to face. Isabel tried to look elsewhere, but she could feel Ethan’s gaze on her. It was a strange sensation, considering he was always the one to avoid discussions, always looking for an escape route. Maybe distance changed him. Maybe now he was more aware, more mature. He seemed different—at least his eyes did.
“How was your trip?” he asked, trying to break the tension.
“I didn’t sleep at all,” she replied, still looking out the window, avoiding facing him directly.
“Isabel.” Her name echoed in her mind as if it didn’t belong to her.
Ethan reached for her hands, searched for her eyes, and sent a shiver down her spine. She turned to face him, shaken and incredulous that she was in this situation right now.
“Please, talk to me, Izzy.” Ethan’s sorrowful eyes pierced through her, but she couldn’t find the words.
“I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry I didn’t understand anything, and I buried myself in work to avoid feeling pain. I ask for your forgiveness for not stopping you, for not helping you when you needed me the most.”
Tears streamed down both their faces, but she felt her throat tighten. In the past 24 hours, her world had turned upside down once again, and she knew that whatever she said now wouldn’t be the right thing. She didn’t even know what was right anymore, but seeing him like this caused her immense pain.
Deep down, she felt guilty too, for not screaming, for not asking for help when she needed it, for not making her voice heard, for not trying to change things instead of staying silent and accepting everything.
“I quit my job because it drained me completely. And it also made me lose you. If only I had realized it sooner, maybe you wouldn’t have left so suddenly. It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.”
“No, Ethan. It’s not just your fault,” Isabel said, mustering all the strength she had left, lifting his chin gently with her fingers. “You lost your daughter, too. And you needed to grieve in your own way. You needed help just as much as I did. And we weren’t able to help each other. It had to happen this way. Don’t punish yourself for what happened.”
Ethan found hope in her eyes. But Isabel pulled away, calling the waitress to escape the discomfort of the moment.
“Thank you for taking care of my dad. I really appreciate it.”
Ethan shook his head and said nothing. They remained silent, sipped their freshly served coffee, and studied each other’s expressions.
Every now and then, Ethan asked about her trip, and Isabel started to open up and told him about her life in Moalboal—the children, the lush nature, the breathtaking sunsets. But when she was about to say his name, she suddenly stopped, feeling a lump in her throat.
She picked up her phone, which had been off the whole time. She turned it on, and all the messages from the previous night flooded in at once.
Matthew wrote to her several times. That morning, he stopped by the guesthouse and found out she had left. He asked her to let him know when she arrived, just to know she was safe.
She typed a quick reply. “I’m in London. My father had a heart attack, but he’s fine now. I’m fine.” Nothing more.
“Ok.” That was the only response she got.
Ethan noticed her tense expression and asked if everything was alright, watching her with concern. But she didn’t hear him.
“Isabel,” he called her again.
She finally lifted her head and replied that everything was fine and that she needed to return to the hospital to see her father. She stood up abruptly and said goodbye.
“Thank you for coming. Really.”
He didn’t know what to say. The woman standing before him seemed like a different person, distant and elusive. He remained there, watching her walk out of the café and cross the street as if she were running away from him.
Isabel returned to her father. Breathless, she stepped into the room and went straight to his side, leaving that encounter behind her.
Her father understood that now was not the time to bring it up, so he gently stroked her hair. “I missed you so much, my little girl.”
“I missed you, too, Dad.”
Surprised by such sincere words, Isabel held her father tightly, as if he were the only anchor in a world full of uncertainty.
Even William seemed profoundly changed. Over the past eight months, each of them underwent a deep inner transformation. The shift in their dynamics forced them all to confront a new reality that led to a profound change.
As he looked at Isabel, William realized how much she had grown—not just as a woman but also in strength and independence. The distance between them, which once seemed necessary to protect them both, now only appeared to him as a void he could have filled with his presence.
He watched her with eyes full of tenderness, aware that he had spent too much time hiding in his work and his grief while his daughter needed a father who was truly there. The risk of losing her, even for a moment, awakened him from a blindness that had shielded him for years from an uncomfortable truth: love was not measured by material sacrifices but by the ability to be present, to share, and to listen. And the pain of losing the woman he loved made him selfish, even with his own daughter.
Isabel clung even tightly to her father, feeling the warmth of that embrace that, despite everything, she missed. William’s heartbeat was slow and tired but more alive than ever. Isabel pulled away slightly and searched his eyes.
“Dad…” she started to say, her voice uncertain.
He looked at her tenderly and recognized in her gaze a storm that went far beyond concern for his health. His hand, once firm and strong, now brushed her face with newfound gentleness.
“What is it, sweetheart?” he asked with a hint of worry.
Isabel lowered her eyes, unsure of how to proceed. Inside, she was torn between pain and the need for answers. Then, taking a deep breath, she reached into her bag and pulled out the yellowed envelope she had carried since the moment she found it.
“Dad… I want to know the truth.”
She handed him the letter, and her hands trembled. At first, he didn’t understand what she was referring to.
“It’s Eleanor, Dad. She wrote me a letter, before she…” She said her name, unable to utter the word she both longed for and feared.
William’s eyes widened. The room was filled with a heavy silence, thick with unspoken emotions, and Isabel’s eyes remained fixed on her father’s face.
After a long moment, William lowered his gaze to the envelope in his hands, his breathing grew unsteady.
“Where… where did you find this?” he murmured, his voice barely audible.
Isabel swallowed hard, caught between anger and the desire to understand.
“It’s a long story, one I still don’t fully understand. Did you know?”
A shadow crossed William’s face. He closed his eyes for a moment as if the weight of this revelation was more than he could bear in his fragile state.
“Dad, why didn’t you ever tell me?” Her voice trembled, but it was firm. “If only I knew…”
Silence. Only the muffled sound of the machines and the faint tapping of rain against the window broke the tension-filled stillness.
Isabel watched him, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for the answer that might finally bring meaning to all this pain.
“When she got sick, you were going through such a dark time. You just lost your baby, and I didn’t want to give you another heartbreak. After all this time, it didn’t seem to matter anymore.”
William’s eyes glistened with regret.
“I’m sorry, my love. For everything. For how I reacted when she left us, and for not being honest with you. I will never forgive myself… I only wanted to protect you.”
Isabel couldn’t stand to see him like this. She threw her arms around him.
Despite her pain, she knew that everything her father did was out of love for her, and now, there was nothing more to be done. They couldn’t go back. Now was not the time for resentment—not when she had come so close to losing him, too.
They remained embraced until the tears faded away, until words were no longer needed, and their hearts began to calm.
Slowly, everything passed, and the sky cleared—just like outside, in mid-September London, at the dawn of autumn.