Grace stood in front of the white door for a long time. Finally, she reached out and opened the door.
“I won’t eat.” Payne lay on the bed, weak and haggard. These days, he had been anxious. The desire to live kept him struggling in pain.
However, the pain was too much to bear. With days passing by, he grew increasingly desperate.
He wanted to live, so he fought with the agony and the disease, dreaming to go back to the days when he could enjoy the luxury life had to offer and be carefree.
Mrs. James cried every day. Payne couldn’t bear to watch her like that. Then she got sick, too. Payne was a little relieved that he finally didn’t have to be around her.
Only the housekeeper would deliver food to him. Mrs. James hired the best nurses for her beloved son. They worked 24 hours a day and took turns to take care of Payne.
Payne was fed up with this white room. When he had a clear mind, he would look out of the window. His eyes were no longer as bright as before.
When the door was opened, he thought the housekeeper had come with food. The medicine and the chemotherapy cost him his appetite. Everything tasted bitter.
Now he would only eat when he was starving.
He was even too weak to speak.
Naturally, he wouldn’t bother to see who was coming.
He just sat on the bed, pretending to enjoy the view outside the window.
The he felt a shadow over him.
He didn’t want to waste his energy to check it out. Annoyance climbed onto his haggard face.
Yes, he was annoyed. He hated to have others pity him. If possible, he would rather it be the other way around.
“Get out,” Payne said in a weak voice, somewhat annoyed, “I know I am sick.”
“Is it affecting your mind, too?”
Payne heard a woman’s voice.
He froze, shocked.
He slowly turned his head from the window to the bedside. In just 45 degrees, his expression changed dramatically.
Staring at her for a long moment, he laughed self-deprecatingly, “Are you here to check if I’m dead?”
The woman remained silent. She pulled the chair beside the bed over and sat down. Glancing at Payne, she stood up, picked up a pillow from the sofa and put it behind Payne.
“What are you doing? Are you pitying me?”
Grace looked at his sunken cheeks for a long time. It was hard to recall his handsome features. He changed so much that she couldn’t recognize him.
She stretched out and buttoned Payne’s white hospital gown.
“What are you doing?” Payne pursed his pale lips with vigilance.
Grace shook off his hand and then unbuttoned the shirt. Then a scar on his shoulder was exposed. The wound had healed, but the scar was nasty.
“Do you remember how you got this?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
She stroked the scar. Payne wanted to dodge her hands as he felt the scar burning, his shoulders trembling.
“If you’re here for nostalgia, save it. I’m dying. What’s the point of reliving the past with a dying man?”
Grace ignored his harsh words and continued to caress him.
She continued, “I grew up with Grandpa.”
“Are you showing off? Grace, he is dead. You lost him forever.”
She ignored him again.
“I used to envy you.
Mom and dad loved you. I was too young. I thought they didn’t like me because I had done something wrong.
So, I tried my best to be better than you for their attention.
The truth is I’m stupid. Grandfather said you were smarter than me, but I was not convinced. So, when you played, I studied. I didn’t even know if it would work.
I studied everything, thinking that it would make me outstanding, so that mom and dad would love me too.
That was what I thought, and that was what I did.
But later, as I became better and better, I discovered that they disliked me even more. Only then did I realize that … they never wanted me to be somebody.
I was angry. You are their child. So am I.
The anger kept me working like a stupid machine.
I also told myself that it didn’t matter if they could never love me, because I had Grandpa.
He was the most important person to me.
For a long time, the only thing that made me feel less useless was grandfather’s approval. It let me taste the sweetness of love and care.
At least I was not trash.
Until one day, Grandpa said to me, “Your brother was actually smarter and more talented than you.”
I could feel his expectation towards you, and I realized that he did not bias me.
But it didn’t matter. He loved me. That was enough.”
Payne was shocked at first, but then he was engrossed.
Only Grace’s hoarse voice could be heard in the ward. She told the story in a steady and slow pace.
“Then I hated you even more. You already got mom and dad’s love. Why would you take away grandfather’s love, too? That was all I had.”
She was like a bystander, telling another person’s story.
“Do you remember how you got the scar?” She looked up at the brown scar, gently stroking it with her index finger.
Payne was too weak, his face pale. After a long while, he said, “I forgot….”
Grace chuckled softly, “When I was in primary school, I didn’t tell anyone about our family and was bullied by the seniors.
Then you discovered that. You dragged me into your bedroom, and you rudely took off my clothes to see my cuts and bruises.
Payne, only then did I know that you had a knack for handling injuries.
Then you chased me out of your room.
I was afraid that you would tell grandfather about it, so he would be disappointed and look down on me.
I was worried all day. But grandfather didn’t blame me. Then I believed that you didn’t tell him about it.
For a long time afterwards, I went home with injuries every day, and you would treat them.”
She pressed her fingertips against the scar on Payne’s shoulder. “This scar was the booty of a fight. You protected me against a bunch of hooligans. They cut you. After that, I felt something different about you. You were strong and would protect me.”
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