Episode 3

Upon entering the room, Brandon halts, closing his eyes and dropping his head once more after witnessing the somber sight of his father lying in that bed. A nurse sat in a cozy armchair nearby, reading a magazine by the dim light of a lamp, just bright enough for her to read.

Nurse - Mister!

She exclaimed, suddenly standing and placing the magazine aside.

Brandon - How is he?

He approached the bed, eyeing the medications on the nightstand, attempting to read each label despite a struggle without his prescription glasses, squinting slightly to decipher the tiny print.

Nurse - The doctor just left, well...

He turned, looking at the woman who stood by the window, her arms stretched out in front of her, somewhat withdrawn.

Brandon - Let's step outside for a bit.

She nodded in agreement, and they both left the room to speak in the hospital wing's hallway.

Brandon - Well?

Nurse - Your father is in his final hours, sir. The dementia only worsens his health condition, I'm afraid.

Brandon - No, no!

He brought his hands to his head and walked to the middle of the hallway, stopping to lean his forehead against the wall in a mix of defeat and disappointment, a whirlwind of emotions coursing through his head and body.

Brandon - Call his doctor. I want him to come back to talk to me.

Nurse - But the doctor just left.

He looked at her.

Brandon - No matter, call him and ask him to come here now.

Nurse - Yes, sir!

He walked back to the room and gripped the doorknob, pausing for a few seconds in thought.

Brandon - I'm going to stay with him. I need some time alone with my father.

Nurse - Oh, of course! I won't interrupt your moment.

He pursed his lips together and entered, gently closing the door behind him and walking slowly to the bed, where he knelt and took his father's hand.

Brandon - Dad...

Despite Brandon's efforts to stay strong, he was merely encased in a shell of his true emotions. Inside, his body ached and trembled as though stabbed a thousand times in the stomach. It felt like everything was slipping from his control, yet his composure was something even he envied.

Brandon - I miss our late-night garden talks, always over a mug of chamomile tea.

A deep sigh escaped him, and a tear rolled down his cheek, tracing a path to his neck.

Brandon - I remember how mom would scold us for staying up so late, watching from the porch, shaking her head, then joining us.

A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth as he reminisced, glancing again at his father whose eyes remained closed, his breathing so faint Brandon could feel it against his face.

Brandon - How I wish you could understand me. The hardest part for me is your forgetfulness.

Suddenly, Brandon felt his father squeeze his hand. Eyes widening in surprise, he watched as his father slowly opened his eyes.

Brandon - Dad, can you understand me?

With an extremely weak and weary voice, Josef tried to form a word, his lips struggling.

Josef - Your mother...

His father's gaze wandered aimlessly around the room.

Brandon - What did you say, Dad?

Josef - Your mother looks so... so beautiful today.

Brandon found his father's words strange, given that his mother had passed away years ago.

Josef - She's beautiful!

The man continued to stare into the void, prompting Brandon to follow his father's gaze, though he saw nothing.

Brandon - He's hallucinating!

He thought to himself.

Josef - Take care, my son. People... aren't always who they seem to be.

His father spoke with great difficulty, gasping for air.

Brandon - Do you recognize me?

Josef was now looking directly into Brandon's eyes.

Josef - Yes, my son, Brandon!

With those words came the last deep breath as Brandon clutched his father's hand, unable to contain his emotions, knowing his father had passed away.

Brandon - My God, Dad!

Still kneeling by the bed, Brandon rested his face against his father's chest, crying from the pain of loss, the longing that would eat away at him, and weeping because his father's suffering was no more. This marked the end for the great entrepreneur, Josef Ramsey.

There were knocks at the door, and his father's devoted employee of many years entered, holding a silver tray with a glass of water. But upon realizing that the good boss had died, Antonieta couldn't contain her emotions.

Antonieta - Oh, no!

Startled, she dropped the tray, which clattered to the floor, the sound of silverware and breaking glass echoing. Overwhelmed, Antonieta collapsed onto the rough carpet, supported by the nurse.

The doctor arrived in a hurry, entering the room and stopping short at the sight of Brandon kneeling by the bed with his face laid on his father's chest. He simply mourned, knowing that Josef's death could come at any moment.

Brandon - Did I do the right thing?

Doctor - Yes! It was your father's last request to die at home.

Brandon - Before dementia took its full hold, he always said he didn't want to die in a hospital, made me promise.

The doctor approached, patting Brandon's shoulder in consolation.

Brandon - We knew this would happen; I just didn't want to accept it.

He chose not to mention his father's last moments of recognition, preferring to hold that memory close. The doctor signed the death certificate and began handling some bureaucratic matters. Soon, the family lawyer arrived along with Nina.

The night was unbearably painful for Brandon, who after spending substantial time beside his father's body, finally left the room to be alone in the garden, trying to gather his thoughts for the long night ahead.

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