Chapter 3
"Nobody can handle your mom. Let her take the blame," she said.
I slammed into a fire hydrant.
They spotted me.
Freaked out, I ran.
Why did I flee?
Just as the deal was set, I suddenly decided not to go through with it.
So embarrassing.
I messaged Mr. Sterling, [My grandma is seriously ill. I need to care for her. Let's end our arrangement.]
After paying my grandma's medical bills, I returned the rest to him.
Then I deleted our chat.
I cried all night over my hopeless crush.
The next morning, eyes swollen from crying, I opened my shabby front door.
Caleb stood outside, his black hair damp with dew.
"Mr. Sterling, what are you doing here?" I asked.
"I'm here. Will you marry me?" he said.
Mrs. Sterling vented for an hour and was exhausted.
As she left, she said, "If you can't handle your husband, divorce him. Don't be that annoying toad clinging to someone. You don't bite, but you annoy."
Mrs. Reynolds handed me a cold beer, her eyes sympathetic. This was our routine after Mrs. Sterling tirade.
Anyone would be shaken after an hour of being chewed out.
I drank the beer all at once to cool my nerves.
I went upstairs to cook Boeuf Bourguignon for Caleb.
He drank at the party and liked coming home to Boeuf Bourguignon simmered two hours with fresh beef.
By the time Boeuf Bourguignon was ready, he hadn't returned.
I had another dream.
In my dream, Grandma sunbathed on the nursing home's large lawn.
That was when I truly fell for Caleb Sterling.
The hospital issued a critical condition notice.
"If possible, transfer her to Asclepius Hospital. They have the best team and equipment. There's still hope," the doctor said.
Asclepius Hospital, Caleb had a stake.
I called him, still conflicted after rejecting his last proposal.
He arranged Grandma's transfer to Asclepius Hospital that night, set up her surgery, and stayed until she was safe.
That morning, he leaned at the corridor's end, sunlight on him, fingertips red, his tiredness masked by lazy elegance.
My heart thundered in my ears, my head crackled as if bursting.
He waved me over.
He pointed to the lawn.
"That's the hospital-run nursing home with top amenities and on-site care, perfect for your grandma," he said.
I stayed silent; a place like that was beyond our reach.
But he still brought it up.
"Why me?" I asked, confused.
He caught my eye. "You're beautiful, play piano, and endure a lot."
"I'm here for the money, I get things done, and don't get attached," I answered.
He nodded and softly laughed, "Pretty much."
He offered a nursing home costing 5 hundred thousand dollars a year if I married him.
No hidden terms, no tricks. I said yes.
I just wanted to give Grandma the best care.
Deep down, I hoped for a better chance.
Half-awake, I felt the dip on the other side of the bed.
He hugged me from behind, his fingers finding the damp spot by my pillow.
"Did she yell at you again?" he asked.
He flipped me, his dark eyes full of emotion. "Didn't I say not to take it?"
Can I really stop putting up with it?
I touched his face and met his gaze. "Where were you?"
He never explains himself.