Chapter 2

Tears welled up in Aella's eyes as she stared at her grandmother, who lay motionless on the hospital bed.

"She's not dead, and she's not in a coma... She's just...somewhere in-between," she recalled the doctor's words from earlier when she came in.

Sitting there and just watching the older woman, the soft hum of machines and the distant chatter of hospital staff provided the backdrop for this uncertain moment.

It felt like time had stopped.

Aella's heart ached with a mixture of hope, fear, and uncertainty, not knowing what would happen next with her grandmother's life hanging in the balance, like a paused scene in life's movie. Her stillness was unsettling, and she couldn't help but wonder what it meant to be 'in-between'.

She reached out and gently held her grandmother's frail hand, hoping to get some kind of response or at least anything, even though it was little to prove a sign of life.

The room felt heavy with pent-up emotions as she whispered, "Grandma, it's me, Aella. I'm here with you."

"I don't know if you can hear me, but if you can..." Her voice cracked. "Please, come back to us."

Memories flooded her mind—memories of laughter, love, and the countless moments they had shared together.

She remembered the time when her grandmother stepped in to look after her and her brother, Collins.

It happened after their mother abandoned them, choosing a wealthier man over their father due to his nonchalant attitude and gambling habits.

Aella was just twelve years old at the time, while Collins was only ten.

Her dad had been a relentless and obsessed gambler. At times, she couldn't help but wonder how she and her brother had managed to escape being used as a means of gambling.

Three months after their mother left, their father brought them to their grandmother's home. As he left, he made promises of returning with riches.

"Maybe he'll be back tomorrow," she would often joke.

But now, twelve years have passed since he left.

Twelve long years they had spent waiting for his return.

It had been twelve years since her brother and she had been abandoned by the very people who had brought them into this world—their parents—leaving their care in the loving hands of their grandmother.

Now, that very same woman lay on the hospital bed, vulnerable and in pain, and Aella couldn't do a thing to save her.

A somber chuckle slipped from her lips, followed by a sigh, as she recollected the onset of her grandmother's illness.

It began with muscle cramps, initially dismissed as a sign of old age, with advice from neighbors to rest being the remedy.

Then it progressed to swollen feet. Aella recalled those moments when she'd lovingly massage her grandmother's feet, serenading her with songs.

However, it wasn't until her grandmother started vomiting and lost her appetite that they grew concerned.

At that point, they assumed it might be a fever and decided to take her to the hospital for a check-up.

It was during this hospital visit that a battery of tests was conducted to determine the cause of her distressing symptoms.

"The test results showed that your grandmother has severe kidney failure, and it would be best to start dialysis immediately while she waits in line for a kidney donor," she recalled the doctor's words from that fateful day. Tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks.

That marked the beginning of their journey, trying to manage the illness to prevent it from worsening, hoping everything would go smoothly and her beloved grandmother would soon be fine.

But who was she kidding?

She knew, right from the beginning, even if she failed to voice it out, that it was going to be a serious battle, especially with the medical bills.

Her thoughts returned to the present as she stared at her grandmother for a long time.

Then she broke into heart-wrenching sobs, tears flowing down her cheeks like torrents of rain.

She had tried to be strong and hold it all in, but the weight had become too much to bear.

Giving her grandmother's hand a gentle squeeze, she spoke in between sobs, "Grandma, please wake up. Life isn't the same without you. I miss your voice, laughter, and the melodious music you sing while making those world-best sandwiches for us."

She took a sharp breath and shook her head before continuing, "Everything is just going wrong. Collins was accused of rape, Grandma! Can you just imagine that? ... Our Collins."

"And worse, he was sentenced to fifteen years' imprisonment," she continued, weeping profusely.

"I gave almost everything I had just to get him a lawyer, and the bastard didn't even try to prove his innocence." She sobbed for a while before continuing.

"You know, thinking about it now, I'm sure those good-for-nothings Macaulay's stuffed some money down his throat."

"And there's you." She trailed off, her voice trembling. "The doctor said that I should pay twenty million dollars before the surgery can take place, Grandma. Where do I get such an amount?" She broke down completely, and after a couple of minutes, she sniffed, gradually gathering her resolve.

"The money is the only factor delaying it, as I have been tested and it has been confirmed that I can donate one of my kidneys for you. I just... I just need to find some way to get that money."

She adjusted her sitting posture, gently caressing her grandmother's hand with her thumb.

"Grandma," she began, her voice quivering with emotion, "I've always known you as a resilient woman."

"I just... I need you to hold on a little while longer. I promise you, I'll find a way to secure the funds, okay?"

"I'll save you and Collins, I promise," she finished, finally regaining her composure. A sense of relief washed over her after pouring out her emotions.

She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand and lifted her grandmother's hand to her lips, giving it a soft kiss before stepping away from the bedside.

"I love you, Grandma." With those words, she rose from her chair and quietly exited the ward.

As she stepped outside of the hospital, she noticed a change in the weather, with ominous clouds hinting at an impending rain.

However, Aella decided to go ahead and take a walk to clear her head and seize the chance to scout for any job openings in the area.

*****

"Mom, I've already told you not to worry about that," Damien said to his mother, struggling to concentrate on driving in the rain.

"I'll bring a lady home as soon as I find one who meets my standards, okay?" he continued.

His mother had been bothering him about settling down and moving on from Amelia, his ex-girlfriend, who left on the night of their convocation to pursue a modeling career in France.

He was devastated when he discovered she had left without a word, and since then, he hadn't been able to enter into any new relationships or develop feelings for any other woman because his love for Amelia remained unchanging.

Damien clung to the hope that they hadn't officially broken up and believed that one day, even though it had been five long years, Amelia would return to him.

"Damien, you're already thirty-four years old, for heaven's sake. How long are you planning to wait for that girl, huh?" His mother's voice carried frustration, evident in her tone.

"I've heard you, Mom," he replied, already growing weary of the discussion.

"That's what—"

"Shit!" Damien's voice abruptly cut off his mother as he realized he had been speeding and had splashed water on a passerby.

"What's happened, Damien?" His mother's concerned voice reached his ears.

He groaned inwardly, reluctant to disclose what had just occurred, but he knew she would persist until he did. With a sigh, he finally relented."

"It's nothing, Mom. I just accidentally splashed some water on someone, but it's not a big deal," he said, his tone oozing with nonchalance.

"You splashed water on someone, and you are saying it doesn't matter." His mother retorted, clearly irritated by his apparent indifference.

"But it really doesn't matter, Mom. It was just a minor splash," he attempted to argue, but his mother was not ready to let it slide.

"Damien Sullivan, stop that car right now and go apologize to whomever you splashed water on," she commanded.

"But, Mom..."

"Now!" She interrupted, leaving no room for refusal.

"Fine," he replied with an exasperated sigh, knowing he had no other choice but to comply with his mother's directive.

*****

Aella was lost in her own thoughts when she suddenly felt a car speed by, splashing dirty puddle water from the rain onto her already drenched body and clothing.

Enraged that the driver didn't even stop to acknowledge their fault, she halted her steps and glared angrily at the car as it drove away.

However, to her surprise, a few minutes later, the same car made a U-turn and pulled up near where she stood.

She noticed a young man, stylishly dressed in a gray, luxurious suit, his hair carefully styled.

Every aspect of his appearance screamed wealth as he stepped out of the driver's seat and approached her.

As he drew nearer, his facial features became more distinct. She noticed his dark hair that complemented his chiseled jawline, and his eyes were a striking shade of blue like the Caribbean Sea.

His presence exuded an air of confidence and a hint of arrogance.

However, Aella remained unfazed, standing her ground patiently, waiting for him to reach her so she could unleash her anger as well as her pent-up frustration upon him.

Damien, on the other hand, approached her with a confident smirk on his face. He noticed her gaze scanning him from head to toe and assumed she was already swooning over him.

Coming to a halt in front of her, he tilted his head slightly to get a better look at the large brown stains on her dress and clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"Tsk... Oh, that's bad. Why were you walking there anyway?" he said with an air of arrogance. Aella arched her brow in surprise.

"Why was I walking there?" she repeated incredulously.

"You drove recklessly and splashed dirty puddle water all over me, and you opened that gutter of a mouth to ask why I was walking there... Where else was I supposed to walk?" She fumed, catching Damien off guard with her fiery response.

Usually, most women were charmed by his good looks and didn't even dare to speak up in his presence due to his imposing demeanor, but she was different.

He leaned in slightly, a hint of surprise on his face. "I beg your pardon, but did you just compare my mouth to a gutter?" he asked, as if he hadn't heard her correctly.

Aella's eyes blazed with anger in response to his question. "Yes, I did compare your mouth to a gutter because that's what it is."

"Just because you're rich, you think you can get away with anything! Well, hell no!"

"Who the hell are you if not one of those spoiled heirs waiting to take over some company? No sense of responsibility," she continued, sizing him up from head to toe.

Damien stared at her for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words.

He wondered if she was genuinely upset about him splashing dirty puddle water on her with his car or if she was simply venting pent-up frustration at him.

He sighed exasperatedly. Whatever the reason for her outburst, Damien wasn't in the mood for it.

He had been standing in the rain long enough, and his expensive suit was already getting wet.

"Hey, hey... Listen, young lady," he interrupted her rants, which had been going on for the last two minutes, his deep baritone voice sounding even deeper than before.

"I don't have time for any drama right now," he said with nonchalance.

"What's even the cost of the clothes that you're making such a fuss about? Huh?" He questioned her, and Aella placed her hands on her hips, as if preparing herself to throw some punches.

"It might not be worth millions of dollars, but I value what I have," she retorted. "Okay, Mr. Billionaire?"

Deciding not to engage in further argument, Damien chose to proceed with the original intention he had in mind when he got out of his car.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a crumpled hundred-dollar bill, and extended it toward her. "Here... this should cover a new outfit and some extra for your needs."

He hadn't anticipated the resounding slap from Aella after his words had left his mouth.

Damien Sullivan, the CEO of Damien Fashion World, a multi-billion-dollar company, was slapped by a commoner. Rage welled up inside him at the thought.

His ego was more than bruised, and Aella didn't seem to mind as she grabbed the dollar note from his outstretched hand and tore it to shreds.

"To hell with you and your money, you bastard." She said this before stomping away.

"Damien... Damien, what happened? What was that?" His mother's voice resonated through the earbuds in his ears, as if he hadn't ended the call with her. Her words snapped him out of his stunned state.

Slowly, he brought his hand up to rub his right cheek, his gaze remaining fixed on Aella's retreating figure.