Chapter 2

2

The injustice of it all crashed over me like a tidal wave. My grandmother had always been so kind to Quentin.

She used to save the best pieces of food and send them over to him. How could he say such a thing?

I left Ivy's house in a daze. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he had shut the door in my face while my grandmother's life hung by a thread.

"Valery?"

The nurse's voice snapped me back to reality.

"Call Dr. Sinclair again! Her condition is deteriorating! Her vessels could rupture at any moment!"

I dialed his number frantically. I didn't care about Ivy or his betrayal anymore. I just needed her to live.

The first call went to voicemail. So did the second.

On the tenth try, he finally picked up. His voice was dripping with irritation.

"What do you want? You're calling like it's a life-or-death emergency! Ivy needs peace and quiet right now."

"If you keep acting this crazy, we're getting a divorce. I can't live another day with someone as petty as you!"

My phone was an old model. The sound leaked out, and I could see the pity in the nurse's eyes.

I gritted my teeth, my voice breaking into a sob.

"Nana is in the OR. You're the only one who can do this surgery. She's going to die, Quentin."

I thought he would finally realize the gravity of the situation. I thought he would feel guilty for doubting me.

Instead, I heard a cold laugh on the other end.

"Playing the same trick twice? Do you think I'm an idiot? Fine. If that's what you want to hear, then let her die."

The line went dead. When I tried to call back, I realized he had blocked me.

My heart sank into a dark, bottomless pit.

He could misunderstand me all he wanted, but he was using my grandmother's life as a pawn in his power game.

"She's hemorrhaging! We need more blood from the bank, now!"

A surgeon stuck his head out of the OR and shouted. The nurse gave me one last look before rushing away.

The hallway became a blur of activity. I slumped against the wall and slid to the floor, praying for a miracle.

Quentin was supposed to be that miracle. But he chose Ivy's bad mood over my grandmother's life.

I lost count of how many times he had stood me up for that woman.

On our first anniversary, I booked a table at a 5-star restaurant. I waited from sunset until midnight.

He sent a single text saying Ivy had a fever and needed him. I sat there for five hours like a fool.

Then, Ivy sent me a photo.

"Your husband is so worried about me. I just had a little headache, and he's been running around for me all night. Sorry about your anniversary."

"You're not still at the restaurant, are you? If I knew you were that pathetic, I would have told him to text you sooner. He was just too focused on me to notice his phone."

I sat in that empty restaurant, staring at those words. I couldn't even find the strength to fight back.

Only people who are loved have the right to throw a tantrum.

After that night, I never asked him to celebrate anything again. He never noticed.

"Family of the patient? I'm so sorry. We... we did everything we could."

The surgeon walked out of the OR, his steps heavy. He took off his mask and looked at me with genuine sympathy.

The world turned into a block of ice. The pain was so sharp I forgot how to cry. I was numb.

"Go in and say your goodbyes."

He patted my shoulder and walked away.

My legs felt like they were made of lead. I couldn't move.

"My sweet girl is the best. One day, you're going to buy me a big house with a garden, right?"

I remembered a summer afternoon. I was in her rocking chair, and she was sitting on a small stool.

She used a hand fan to keep the mosquitoes away from me. Her eyes were crinkled into happy slits as she talked about our future.

I might be a failure to everyone else, but to her, I was everything.

When my parents threw me away, she was the one who stood tall, even with her hunched back.

She told them, "If you think this child is a burden, then leave her to me. You don't love her, but I do!"