Blind ex-husband Loves me Again

Chapter 3: Papa is no more

Vera’s POV:

When I arrived at the hospital in a desperate rush, my mother met me in the corridor, her eyes searching for Howard but finding only me. In her gaze, I could see the immediate understanding of what had transpired. Her already red and swollen eyes welled up with fresh tears, and she enveloped me in a tight, comforting hug.

"Your grandfather held on until you arrived. Go in quickly," she whispered, her voice filled with sympathy and sorrow.

In the hospital room, it was just me and my grandfather. His once-vibrant white hair had dulled, and he lay on the hospital bed, his consciousness fading. When I called out, "Papa," he struggled to extend his hand towards me. I stood by his bedside, doing my best to control my emotions. I sniffled and half-leaned, burying my face in his frail hand.

"Papa, I came to see you. I, I'm wearing a wedding dress. Do I look good?" I tried to smile for him, though my heart ached. "Papa, don't leave me..."

My trembling voice mirrored my inner turmoil, and I could see tears forming at the corners of my grandfather's eyes. Although I hadn't spotted Howard, my grandfather's doubts had been confirmed: I had not been happy in the past three years.

"Vera... Vera..."

My grandfather's voice was frail, and I leaned closer to hear. "Papa?"

"Be yourself... pursue your own happiness."

With those words, my grandfather took his last breath, and his hand slipped away. The hospital equipment began to emit sharp, piercing sounds, and a swarm of people rushed into the room, including doctors, nurses, my parents, and the rest of the Samantha family.

The cacophony in the room overwhelmed my senses, and the voices became a chaotic, painful symphony in my ears. Each second that passed with my Papa's last breath felt like an eternity. As he slipped away, I began to feel all the emotions I had suppressed for far too long. My heart broke, and my mind finally awakened to the depths of my sorrow.

Someone kept calling my name, but I couldn't hold on any longer. The overwhelming emotions and despair pushed me to the brink, and I fainted, my vision darkening.

Late on that New Year's Eve, my grandfather passed away.

In accordance with my grandfather's last wish, we kept the funeral modest, with only a few close friends and relatives in attendance. I stood in front of his tombstone with vacant eyes, unable to comprehend how the person who loved me most could be gone overnight.

There was no one from the Kennedy family in attendance. My father had made sure that the news of Senior Samantha's passing remained off the news until the funeral concluded.

But my father's frustration and anger erupted, and he threw his phone to the ground when he saw a picture of Howard accompanying Isabella in the hospital. The warm embrace in the photo, filled with romance, stung like a dagger. They looked like a real couple, while I felt like nothing more than a servant who catered to Howard's every whim.

I gazed at the photo and, strangely, all I felt was a bitter, self-mocking smile. The ignored calls, the unanswered cries, they all made sense now. Howard had chosen to stay with Isabella instead of answering my calls during the critical hours of my grandfather's passing.

My father stormed towards me, his voice filled with anger and frustration. "If you are a Samantha, divorce that jerk!"

A chill flashed in my eyes, but my face remained stoic. I said nothing. My father's words were harsh, but at this moment, I could not afford to let his anger break me. I had lost my grandfather, and the last thing I needed was to be at odds with my family.

My mother's eyes were filled with concern and pain as she looked at me. She pulled my father away, attempting to bring some semblance of peace to our family in this difficult time.

Once the funeral was over, I fell ill, my fever reaching a high of 39 degrees Celsius. During the illness, I found myself murmuring Howard's name in a feverish daze.

My father, frustrated with my condition, exclaimed, "What a useless person!"

It took me a full day and night to regain my senses. My mother stood by my side, tending to me with care. Except for her, the men in my life had all failed me in one way or another.

But when I finally awoke, my first words were, "I want to go back to the Kennedys."

My father, furious and at his wits' end, nearly slapped me. My mother had a thousand words of persuasion at the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't bring herself to say them. In the end, they reluctantly accepted my decision.

The driver prepared the car, and I was driven back to the Kennedy mansion. Waiting for me at the doorstep was Howard's grandmother, Vivienne Kennedy. She saw the toll my recent experiences had taken on me, my weight loss, my pallor, and the strain on my features. Her heart ached for me.

"Sweetie, where have you been these days? I called you, but you didn't answer..."

"Grandma, I came back to say goodbye to you," I replied with a gentle yet resolute voice.

The old lady was taken aback. "Goodbye?"

"Yes, I plan to divorce Howard. Please take care of yourself from now on."

With those words, I walked upstairs to pack my belongings. The old lady pushed her reading glasses up her nose and couldn't hide her irritation. "What on earth has Howard done to make you so upset?"

She immediately called Howard, her tone filled with authority. "No matter where you are, come back to me now, or I'll cut ties with you!"

Howard's POV:

An hour passed, and I returned home from the hospital to a furious grandmother. She was seething with anger as she confronted me, demanding to know why my wife was seeking a divorce and whether I had mistreated her again.

My lips tightened into a thin line, my expression cold and unreadable. What was Vera up to now? If she truly desired a divorce, she wouldn't have clung to me for the past three years. It was as if she couldn't make up her mind, vacillating between wanting to break free and clinging to me.

Downstairs, Vera had packed her belongings. She carried her suitcase and descended the staircase, her presence marked by a faint, lingering fragrance. I couldn't see her, but I could sense her proximity. The atmosphere in the room grew tense.

"What? Are you trying to play the victim now? Do you want a divorce only to force me into giving you a wedding?" I couldn't help but sneer, my words laced with frustration.

She replied coolly, "I've placed the divorce agreement in the room. Let your lawyer review it. If there are no issues, sign it and send it to me."

Her voice was devoid of the timid compliance she had previously exhibited. It caught me off guard. I couldn't recall hearing such determination from her before. As she passed by me, I instinctively reached out and grasped her wrist.

"What are you scheming?"

My grandmother, unable to bear the tension, rose from her seat and intervened, delivering a swift slap to my cheek. Vera remained silent. I furrowed my brow, my dark eyes betraying none of the turmoil within.

"Do you have no conscience?" her voice held a tremor, her breathing rapid. She moved to stand by Vera, taking hold of her hand. I could feel the movement.

"For the past three years, she has taken care of you meticulously, fearing that you would stumble or falter. She has softened all the harsh edges in this home, tending to your daily life, even preparing your meals. What debt does she owe you?"

"Sweetie, Grandma knows you've endured a lot in these years. I support your decision to divorce Howard. For my sake, could you two please sit down and have a heartfelt conversation?"

"These years, don't you think it's time for both of you to provide each other with some explanations?"

I couldn't help but sneer, my sarcasm cutting through the tension. "Yes, we should discuss the details of the divorce."

Without another word, I took Vera's wrist and led her back upstairs to our room. As I opened the door, I released her wrist with a forceful gesture, the air in the room heavy with the unspoken words and unresolved emotions that hung between us.

Vera’s POV:

"Do you think I would fall into your trap?" My knee throbbed with pain after hitting the corner of the bed, but I held my tongue. As I steadied myself by the edge of the bed, I met Howard's icy gaze and couldn't help but smile.

"Howard Kennedy, you are truly pitiable."

"What did you say?" His tone was laced with anger, and he took a step closer. "Have you gone mad today?"

I sat down on the edge of the bed, but his leg blocked my escape route. His hands, with their distinct knuckles, clamped my chin, forcing me to lie halfway on the bed. He was tall, casting a heavy shadow that enveloped me.

"You used this kind of acting to deceive Grandma? Such tricks don't work on me at all."

The emotions I had been bottling up for the past few days finally broke free, and I couldn't suppress my outburst any longer.

"Work on you? Can your blind eyes even see? Where was your sweetheart when you lost everything in that accident?" My words were sharp, each one cutting like a knife into the heart. "I remember that your 'treasure' went abroad for two years when you needed her most. I was the one who stayed. I was the one who never wavered in my love for you, hoping for nothing in return. Can you honestly say that your sweet Bella would have done the same for you?"

"Huh? Answer me!!!"