Fatherhood - Harlan Coben

The nurse came in. “You have to leave now.”
“No,” my father said.
“Please don’t make me call security.”
I could feel the panic start up in my chest. “It’s okay, Dad. I’m fine. Get some sleep.”
He looked at me for a moment and turned to the nurse. “What’s your name sweetheart?”
“Regina.”
“Regina what?”
“Regina Monte.”
“My name is Al, Regina. Al Bolitar. Do you have any children?”
“Two daughters.”
“This is my son, Regina. You can call security if you want. But I’m not leaving my son alone.”
The nurse turned and left. She didn’t call security. My father stayed all night in that chair next to my bed. When I cried out in my sleep, he shushed me and stroked my forehead and told me that everything would be okay – and for a few seconds, I believed him.

Sometimes my father leaves me awestruck. Fatherhood is about balance, but how can one man do it so well, so effortlessly? Throughout my life he pushed me to excel without ever crossing the line. He reveled in my accomplishments yet never made them seem to be all that important. He loved without condition, yet he still made me want to please him. He knew, like now, when to be there, and when it was time to back off.

- Long Lost, Harlan Coben