The Love I Buried With My Grandma Chapter 03

The Love I Buried With My Grandma Chapter 03

“Grandma!”

I stumbled toward her and eased her down flat.

“Call 911! Now!”

By the time she was in the ambulance, my own legs had gone useless underneath me.

I looked up and saw the canvas propped in the car.

It wasn’t Grandma on it. It was Chloe, sketching scenery in the background behind her.

The emergency room light stayed on for a long, long time.

Daniel held my hand, trying to comfort me.

“Don’t worry. Grandma’s a tough old lady. She’ll be fine.”

“At her age, she’d just stay home where it’s safe!” Chloe complained. “What a waste of a day’s work.”

“What did you just say?” I finally snapped and shoved her.

“Wasn’t it you two who insisted on changing plans, dragging her up a mountain—and now this happens?”

Chloe swayed and let herself fall, tears streaming down instantly.

“Fine. It’s all my fault.”

“So what do you want me to do about it? Should I pay you back with her life?”

She started toward the wall like she meant to smash her head against it.

Daniel yanked her back.

“Nora, have you lost your mind? Are you trying to kill her?”

His face darkened as he carefully checked Chloe for injuries.

Once he was sure she was fine, he turned and slapped me, hard.

“All this over some old woman? Is it really worth this?”

My cheek went hot and swollen instantly, stinging.

I clenched my fists so tight my chest ached like it might crack open.

“Daniel. You told me once we were family. That you’d take care of her.”

“She gave you her retirement savings for your exhibition. And now this is what you say about her?”

Daniel’s eyes went flat.

“She’s a nobody. Some backwater old woman. She should be grateful I even let her invest in someone like me.”

I stared at him. He suddenly felt like a stranger.

When we first married, he’d come with me to visit Grandma in Millbrook.

She’d proudly brought out fresh-picked peaches, apricots, a whole table of home-style country cooking.

Daniel had eaten happily, praising her cooking the whole time.

He’d taken photos of the three of us, helped with the chores, bought her new clothes.

He’d held my hand and promised Grandma he’d take care of me for the rest of my life.

She’d been so moved, she handed over her entire retirement savings to fund his exhibition—asking only that he treat me well.

Later, he painted a portrait of her out harvesting wheat in the fields.

That painting won him a major award.

Overnight, he became famous.

Back then, he’d called her pure, genuine, deeply moving—a symbol of every hardworking woman.

Now he called her a nobody, and he didn’t treat me well anymore, either.

“I’ll head back and pack her things for the hospital. I’ll come by later.”

Daniel walked off with Chloe.

I understood then—Daniel didn’t look down on Grandma.

He looked down on me.

I was the one who’d dragged her into this.

The lights in the emergency room went dark.

The doctor said she’d made it in time—if she got through the critical window tonight, she’d be fine.

In the ICU, Grandma’s frail little body was covered in tubes.

The ventilator light flickered, dim and bright, dim and bright. It made my chest ache.

I kept watch outside the ward all night, too afraid to even blink.

Daniel never came back.

The next morning, he texted:

[Chloe’s studio hit a snag. Handling it.]

[Sent a courier with her stuff.]

I turned my phone off, expressionless.

Then the monitors in the ICU screamed.

Doctors and nurses flooded into Grandma’s room.

“Acute heart failure. She needs surgery immediately.”

“Pay at the front. Fifty thousand. There’s a specialty medication—it has to be paid for before we can use it.”

I ran to the payment window without thinking, only to be told the account had two hundred dollars left in it.

“That’s impossible! There’s three hundred thousand in there!”

That account was for Grandma’s treatment. Only Daniel and I knew the password.

My hands were shaking when I called him.

“Did you take Grandma’s treatment money?”

“Chloe needed it urgently. I transferred it to her.” His voice was calm.

“That’s for Grandma’s surgery! She needs it right now—transfer it back!” My voice had gone raw.

“Can’t. It’s already spent.” His voice was flat.

“Daniel, is Nora just refusing to lend it to me? Didn’t Grandma pull through yesterday? Why does she need surgery again?”

Chloe’s voice drifted in.

The nurses were still pushing. I was crying too hard to speak straight.

“Daniel, I’m begging you. I just need fifty thousand. She really can’t wait!”

Silence on the line.

Then Chloe’s voice, choked with tears.

“But Daniel… without this money my studio is finished. My dream, everything I’ve worked for, gone.”

Daniel didn’t hesitate.

“Nora, don’t push it too far. This money’s going to Chloe. As for Grandma—”

“We’ll crowdfund for her. You’ll have it covered in two weeks, easy.”

Click. The line went dead.

But Grandma couldn’t wait two weeks.

I stared at the flickering light above the operating room, my nails digging into my palms.

Teeth clenched, I pulled up a crowdfunding site.

Right then, the light went out.

The doctor stepped out, face full of regret, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry. We did everything we could.”

“If we’d had the specialty medication, there might have been a chance.”