The Love I Buried With My Grandma Chapter 01

The Love I Buried With My Grandma Chapter 01

I was out of town chasing down an investor for Daniel Ashford when my grandma’s Alzheimer’s check-up came around.

I called him and told him not to forget to book her appointment.

“Grandma’s check-up has to be handled properly. She’s old. She can’t take any more stress.”

He agreed without hesitation.

For a man who lived and breathed his painting, he set down the canvas he hadn’t even finished.

Then he forgot the second he hung up, and ran off to help Chloe Sinclair fix up her exhibition pieces instead.

By the time I made it back from out of town, Grandma had already been missing for three days.

I found her sitting in a pile of garbage, clutching a ragged rag doll to her chest, smiling.

“Nora, Grandma found you a doll. Do you like it?”

I nodded, hand pressed over my mouth, crying.

I’d called Daniel dozens of times asking about that day. He hung up on every single one.

Late that night, he finally texted:

[Busy. Not answering.]

I turned off my phone.

I watched Grandma shuffle toward me, her white hair a mess, her steps unsteady.

Something in me went quiet. It just didn’t seem worth it anymore.

My marriage to Daniel Ashford—it was time for it to end.

…

I’d just finished bathing Grandma when Daniel’s messages started flooding in.

[Cedar Lake Grill, Terrace A, window seat. Book it for me.]

[Nora. Answer me.]

I glanced at my phone, then helped Grandma lie down.

Daniel called.

“Did you see my messages? Book the table, now.”

I stepped out quietly, shutting the door behind me, and kept my voice low.

“Daniel. Grandma went missing the day of her check-up. I just found her.”

His voice caught.

“I’m sorry—something came up. There was a problem with Chloe’s exhibition pieces, I had to go.”

“So you left in such a hurry you forgot to lock the door, forgot to even tell the aide?”

His breathing turned sharp.

“That’s enough. I’ll explain everything when I get back.”

“Chloe’s investor is sitting here waiting. You want to argue about this now?”

My grip tightened on the phone. Something small and jagged bloomed in my chest.

To him, Grandma missing for three days didn’t outweigh one dinner with Chloe Sinclair and her investor.

“You’re right. It doesn’t matter. Just like our marriage.”

I hung up and looked up at the huge sunflower painting on the wall.

He’d painted it the day he proposed.

That day, he’d taken my hand and said:

“Nora, may our love be as wild and bright as these sunflowers.”

“Once we’re married, we’re family. Your grandma is my grandma. I’ll take care of her, I promise.”

I’d smiled. My eyes had stung.

My phone lit up—Chloe’s Instagram story.

Taken at Cedar Lake Grill, Terrace A.

An elegant table set with expensive food, the corner of the photo catching a glint of a rose-gold cufflink.

Caption: [May you always be by my side.]

I knew exactly whose cufflink that was. I’d bought it for Daniel myself.

He didn’t have thirty seconds for my call, but he had time to pose for photos with Chloe over dinner.

Daniel always said Chloe was his mentor’s daughter, that he indulged her a little for the old man’s sake—repaying a debt of gratitude.

I believed him. I never once complained.

Until last year, when I walked into his studio and saw the painting.

The girl in it was vibrant, alive—unmistakably Chloe.

That’s when I learned they’d been together for years, long before me.

Suddenly I felt so tired.

I put the thought away and texted him.

[Come home early. We need to talk.]

He came back at one in the morning with a bag of medicine.

“How’s Grandma? I picked up a few things for her.”

I didn’t take it. “Sit down.”

He pressed his lips together and sat.

“About Grandma—that’s on me. I know you’re upset, but the check-up could’ve waited. Chloe couldn’t…”

“Grandma has Alzheimer’s.” Just saying it made me shake. “I told you—you lock the door every time you leave!”

“Do you know where I found her? In a dumpster. In a pile of trash!”

“She hates mess more than anyone. And she was stuck in there for three full days!”

“She was eating scraps. Sleeping wrapped in plastic bags. Bugs crawling on her. And you didn’t think of her once!”

Daniel’s voice dropped.

“Someone was interested in investing in Chloe right then, I—”

“Chloe.” I laughed, my eyes aching.

“It’s always her. It’s always right that moment. It’s always something you had to do. You always have a reason.”

“If you like her so much, why did you marry me?”

“Enough!” He yanked his collar loose, agitated. “Don’t drag her into this.”

I wanted to laugh. I couldn’t.

Chloe Sinclair was his one untouchable subject. No one was allowed near it.

“You wanted to take Grandma to Miller’s Creek, didn’t you? I’ll arrange it tomorrow. And I’ll paint her another picture.”

His voice softened. He looked at me.

“Nora, everything I have I owe to my mentor. You and I should be on the same side.”

I’d been asking for that trip to Miller’s Creek for six months.

Every time, Daniel said he was busy, had a painting due, pushed it back again and again.

Now that he’d agreed, I should have been happy.

Instead, all I felt was exhaustion.

I looked at him and finally said it.

“Daniel. Let’s get a divorce.”