The first thing Sebastian thought about when he woke up wasn't work.
It wasn't Sovereign.
It wasn't the dozens of unread emails that were probably piling up.
It wasn't even the dull ache in his body.
It was Ellie.
The realization hit him before he even opened his eyes.
A small blonde-haired girl sitting on a kitchen counter.
Correcting his terrible pancake-making skills.
Laughing when flour ended up where it wasn't supposed to.
Looking up at him with those impossibly familiar blue eyes.
His eyes opened slowly.
The hospital room came into focus.
The monitors.
The IV.
The white ceiling.
For once, he didn't immediately reach for his phone.
He simply stared at the ceiling.
Thinking.
Thinking about a daughter he'd only known for a handful of days.
And somehow already couldn't stop thinking about.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
The door opened.
Dr. Reynolds entered carrying a tablet.
"Good morning, Mr. Wolfe."
Sebastian looked toward him.
"I've had better."
The doctor smiled faintly.
"I imagine so."
Normally, Sebastian hated these conversations.
Avoided them.
Dismissed them.
Ignored them.
But today felt different.
Dr. Reynolds stepped closer.
"How are you feeling?"
"Tired."
"Any dizziness?"
"A little."
"Headache?"
"Yes."
The doctor nodded.
Typing a few notes.
"Your seizure appears to have been triggered by several factors."
Sebastian already knew where this was going.
Still, he listened.
"The biggest concern remains your liver."
A familiar heaviness settled in the room.
"The damage has progressed."
Sebastian looked away.
Not because he was surprised.
Because he wasn't.
Deep down he'd known for a while.
He just hadn't wanted to hear it out loud.
Dr. Reynolds continued.
"The seizure was a warning sign."
A pause.
"A serious one."
Sebastian's jaw tightened.
"What happens if it happens again?"
The doctor looked at him carefully.
The question clearly surprised him.
Because Sebastian almost never asked questions.
Not real ones.
"Another seizure could be dangerous."
The doctor's voice remained calm.
"Potentially more dangerous than this one."
Silence followed.
Then Sebastian asked another question.
"What about my liver?"
Dr. Reynolds looked genuinely pleased that he was engaging.
"If you continue drinking, the damage will continue."
No sugar-coating.
No softening.
Just facts.
"The alcohol has to stop."
Sebastian stared at the blanket.
His hands clenched slightly.
Because that was easier said than done.
Much easier.
As if sensing his thoughts, the doctor continued.
"You're already experiencing symptoms."
"What symptoms?"
"Withdrawal."
Sebastian frowned.
"My hands?"
The doctor nodded.
Sebastian looked down.
Only then noticing the slight tremor.
A faint shaking in his fingers.
He hadn't even realized it was happening.
"Headaches."
Another nod.
"Anxiety."
The doctor paused.
"Irritability."
That earned the smallest reaction.
"Aren't I always irritable?"
Dr. Reynolds laughed.
"I'll let your assistant answer that."
For the first time all morning, Sebastian almost smiled.
Almost.
When the doctor left, the room became quiet again.
Sebastian looked at his hands.
They were still trembling slightly.
A reminder.
One he couldn't ignore.
The door opened again an hour later.
This time it was Chloe.
She entered carrying a stack of folders.
Immediately, Sebastian sighed.
"No."
Chloe stopped.
"What?"
"No."
She blinked.
"I haven't even said anything."
"I know what those are."
She looked down.
"Work."
"Exactly."
Chloe narrowed her eyes.
"I brought them because—."
"Take them back."
Silence.
Chloe stared.
Sebastian stared back.
"What?"
"Take them back."
"Are you running a fever?"
"No."
"Did they hit your head?"
"Chloe."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
She looked genuinely alarmed.
"You don't want to work?"
"I nearly died."
That shut her up.
Immediately.
The words hung in the room.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
True.
Finally Chloe sighed.
"Well."
She placed the folders back under her arm.
"This is terrifying."
Sebastian rolled his eyes.
"Postpone the meetings."
"What?"
"Delegate what you can."
Chloe stared.
"You mean that?"
"Yes."
"The board review?"
"Reschedule it."
"The investor conference?"
"Someone else can handle it."
The look on Chloe's face was priceless.
She looked like she'd just witnessed a miracle.
"Who are you and what have you done with Sebastian Wolfe?"
That actually earned a small laugh.
Only a small one.
But it was there.
Hours later, after Chloe left, the room became quiet once more.
Sebastian spent most of the afternoon sleeping.
Exhaustion seemed impossible to escape.
Every time he woke up, he felt tired again.
His body was still recovering.
The seizure had taken more from him than he'd realized.
It was late afternoon when another knock came.
This time, he already knew who it was.
Lillian.
She stepped into the room carrying something in her hand.
"Hi."
Sebastian immediately sat up slightly.
"Hi."
She smiled softly.
"You look terrible."
"That's becoming a theme."
"A deserved one."
He couldn't argue with that.
Lillian pulled a chair closer.
Then held out a folded piece of paper.
Sebastian frowned.
"What's that?"
"A gift."
Confused, he accepted it.
Carefully unfolding the paper.
The moment he saw it, he froze.
A child's drawing.
Crayon lines.
Stick figures.
Bright colors.
In the center stood a little blonde figure.
Beside her was a taller figure labeled Mommy.
And next to them—
A very tall stick figure.
The word Daddy written above it.
Sebastian stopped breathing.
Not literally.
But close enough.
His eyes remained fixed on the page.
Studying every line.
Every color.
Every scribble.
Like it was the most important document he'd ever seen.
Because to him—
It was.
"She drew this?"
His voice sounded rough.
Lillian nodded.
"This morning."
Silence.
Sebastian looked down again.
His throat tightened painfully.
Daddy.
Not Sebastian.
Not the sick man.
Daddy.
The word alone nearly broke him.
For a long moment he couldn't speak.
Then finally:
"Does she really want to see me again?"
The question surprised even him.
Because it sounded vulnerable.
Uncertain.
Afraid.
Lillian's expression softened immediately.
"Sebastian."
He looked away.
"What?"
"She's three."
A small smile touched her lips.
"She asks about you constantly."
His eyes lifted.
"She does?"
"Yes."
A pause.
"She asked if you were feeling better."
Something tightened in his chest.
"She asked if you were eating."
His grip on the drawing tightened slightly.
"And this morning she asked when you'd come back."
Sebastian looked down.
Suddenly unable to meet her eyes.
Because hearing those things hurt.
Not in a bad way.
In a way that made him realize exactly how much he had to lose.
And exactly how much he wanted.
After Lillian left later that evening, the room became quiet again.
Night settled outside the window.
The city lights glittered in the distance.
Sebastian sat alone.
The drawing resting in his hands.
He studied it one more time.
Then carefully placed it on the bedside table.
Positioned so he could see it from the bed.
A little blonde stick figure.
A tiny family drawn in crayon.
Simple.
Messy.
Perfect.
Sebastian stared at it for a long time.
Then quietly spoke into the empty room.
A promise.
Not to Lillian.
Not to the doctors.
Not to Sovereign.
To Ellie.
"I'll be there."
The words were barely above a whisper.
But for the first time in years, Sebastian meant every single one.
And as he looked at his daughter's drawing, he realized something.
Recovery wasn't something he was doing for himself anymore.
It was for her.
His daughter.
His Ellie.
And for the first time since learning she existed, the future didn't feel completely hopeless.