Chapter 2
1138 Words
Kayla's Pov
I stared at the b***h queen, the one who used to participate in my bullying.
She was wearing one of her elegant pink dresses and one of her “f**k-me” heels.
Isabel wasn't just beautiful. She’s hot even from a girl's point of view. She has provocative features, basically the whole package but wrapped with a “b***h” ribbon. It's crazy how no one can change from childhood. I guess she's still the b***h who will live to make my life a living hell.
“The hospital called.” I replied calmly even though my fingers were already curling into fists.
Yvonne, my stepmother who wasn't much of a mother anyways, snapped her finger in my direction. “Why would the hospital call you all the way from Italy? You're not important to the family anyways.”
I was absolutely stupified. This is the welcome I get after we parted ways for 8 years?
I schooled my features to hide my frustrations and retorted. “I came here to see grandpa.”
“Omg,” Isabel laughed. “What's with that funny accent? You sound like you swallowed a frog.”
“Who knows? Maybe she did. You know how disgusting she is.” Yvonne snickered.
The insult doesn't do much damage as they intended and I nearly rolled my eyes. I've been in Italy for 8 years so it's obvious I would develop an accent.
I heard the door slide open and a middle-aged female doctor with Mediterranean features stepped outside and removed her cap, her face was drawn and her movements were sluggish.
That must be Doctor Harper.
My heart nearly dropped to the floor the moment I saw her.
“Doctor…” Yvonne's voice sounded concerned. “How's… my father-in-law?”
She acted like she cared but we both know she doesn't.
Harper didn't reply to him but turned to me instead.
“You must be Kayla. Glad you have you here,” she said with a small nod and gestured to the door. “Your grandfather is stable now.”
“Oh, thank you.” Isabel panted through fake tears and that infuriated me.
Why was everyone pretending like they were actually sad? None of them here cared about grandpa. Not when he was fine and certainly not now that he's sick. I've always been the one taking care of him but they act like they were the ones who do.
“We’ll keep an eye on Richard in the ICU tonight. You can go see him.” Harper gave me a light pat on the shoulder.
“Thank you.” I mumbled.
As soon as she disappeared into the elevator, Yvonne picked up from where she left off.
“If you came here out of pity, we don't need it,” she said aloud for everyone to hear. “You can leave.”
I didn't move. Not even an inch. Instead, I stared at dad who'd been ignoring me since I came here. This time he does make eye contact but even his bored expression doesn't change. I read the room and released a deep sigh. I was too jetlagged to exchange words with any of them.
“I'm going in to see grandpa.” I pushed past Isabel who let out a loud scoff and entered grandpa's room.
Yvonne stepped right in front of me, blocking my view. “You think you're all high and mighty because you're Richard's favourite but I don't give a damn about it. The second he dies, I want you out of here for good.”
I couldn't believe my eyes.
“What?”
“You heard her,” Dad spoke for the first time since I arrived. “The moment my father dies, I want you to get the hell out of this country and never return.”
Tears stung my eyes and I clenched my fists tighter.
“Fine! I'll leave! It's not like I was accepted here in the first place.” I hissed then marched towards grandpa's room.
The second I entered the room, a long whoosh of breath escaped me.
Grandpa was still alive.
I let the seating emotions I'd been bottling up escape me in tears as I reached for his bed.
“Grandpa…?” I choked out a sob.
When I met his pale green eyes, guilt slammed into me in waves until I couldn't breathe.
“I shouldn't have left you on your own.” I cupped his face. He was so thin and so pale. Were they even taking care of him when I left? God, what have I done?
“Kayla, no,” A smile lit up his face. “I'm so happy you're here.”
“But grandpa, I failed you.” Fresh tears leaked out of my eyes.
“No,” he took my hand and squeezed it. “You've always made me proud, my dear. I'm glad you made it safe.”
I looked at the IV drip then at the heart rate monitor counting his heartbeat. “What happened to you?”
“It's my liver, kiddo.” Grandpa groaned as he sat up. “I'm sorry but I can't fight it anymore.”
Those words tumbled from his lips like a curse and I felt myself teetering towards the verge of another breakdown.
“This family can't exist without you, you understand? Grandpa, you hear me?” I said with a sob.
“I know, kiddo, but you'll be fine,” Grandpa stroked my cheek, his eyes glittering with unshed tears. “I can only be here because of your care and understanding. You've helped me countless times. I wouldn't have gotten here without you. So please, don't cry.”
I couldn't control the tears that slid down my cheeks.
“Grandpa…” my voice came out in a whisper, trembling with a fear I didn't want to name.
He patted the back of my hand, his touch weaker than I remembered. “Don't cry, sweetie. I've lived a long life.”
“That doesn't mean I'm ready to let you go,” I mumbled, brushing at my tears.
He gave a faint chuckle, though it ended in a cough. “No one's ready. But before I die, there's something I want to see.”
I swallowed hard. “What is it?”
“I want to see you get married.”
The words stole my breath. I tightened my grip on him as if I could hold him here with me.
“If that's what will make you happy, then… I'll do it.. I'll get married.”
And I meant it. For him, I would.
But when the silence settled, a single thought crept into my mind : where in the world would I find a husband?
- Writer
