A Divorce He Regrets (Alissa Nexus) novel Chapter 121

121 /224

RAINA

He was gone. Just like that.

No words could capture the depth of my pain. It felt like someone had ripped my heart out and left me hollow. Dominic’s arms wrapped tightly around me and Grandma as we clung to each other, tears streaming down our faces. None of us could stop crying, and the sound of our grief filled the small, sterile room.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Grandpa’s still form as the nurse gently covered him with a white sheet. He looked so peaceful, like he was just sleeping. But the reality of it crushed me—he wasn’t in pain anymore because he wasn’t here anymore.

How long had he been suffering? How had none of us known? The questions swirled in my mind, threatening to drown me. A lump formed in my throat as another thought hit me: had he known he was going to die?

My tears fell harder. Why else would he have transferred everything to me just days before? He had to have known. It was almost as if he had been trying to prepare me, but I hadn’t seen it then. I had been too caught up in the chaos of everything else to realize what was happening right in front of me.

The minutes passed in a haze. I wasn’t sure how long we stayed in that room, holding onto each other and to the little pieces of him that still felt tangible. But eventually, Dominic gently pulled Grandma away from the bed. Her frail hands trembled as she clung to him, sobbing softly.

I followed them numbly, my feet heavy with each step as we made our way out of the hospital. By the time we finally drove home, my body felt like it had been through a war. My head throbbed, my heart ached, and my chest felt tight, as if it might collapse under the weight of my grief.

When we walked through the door, the quiet of the house felt deafening. Faith was fast asleep on the couch, her son cradled protectively in her arms. She stirred at the sound of the door, her eyes fluttering open.

She appeared in the hallway, her face etched with worry as she approached us. “You’re back,” she murmured, relief evident in her tone. But as her gaze swept over us, her expression faltered. “Where’s Grandpa?”