The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 160

**Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest**

**Chapter 160**

**Gemma’s POV**

“Gemma, please forgive me. I’m your culprit.”

Donovan’s voice pierces through the sterile air of the hospital room, and for a moment, I find myself frozen in disbelief, grappling with the weight of his confession. Did I truly hear him correctly?

“Grandpa…?” I reply softly, my heart racing. “Is everything okay? Why are you apologizing to me?”

He looks so fragile beneath the harsh fluorescent lights, his skin a pallid shade that sends a shiver down my spine. The wires and tubes that snake from his arms resemble tangled threads of remorse, binding him in a web of his own making.

“I have no grievances, dear. Since the day you entered my life, you have showered me with affection—gifts, attention, and an abundance of kindness. And Cassian, bless him, has always looked out for me in his own peculiar way.” I manage a faint smile, hoping to ease the shadows on his face. “What could you possibly have to be remorseful about?”

I had hoped my words would bring him comfort, but instead, I watch as the clouds of guilt darken his expression, casting a shadow over the room.

“Even now, you defend that worthless grandson of mine,” he mutters, bitterness dripping from his words.

“Grandpa…” I begin, but he waves me off, his eyes filled with an intensity I’ve rarely seen.

“No, don’t interrupt me, dear. I was ensnared in my own stubborn beliefs about how things should unfold, but now, I see everything with a newfound clarity. He has caused you much distress, so please, don’t shield me from the truth any longer. I thought if I pressed a bit harder, everything would align perfectly.”

A wave of emotion washes over me, leaving me momentarily speechless. I never anticipated witnessing this vulnerable side of him.

“But I was mistaken. He rejected you, and as if that wasn’t enough, I kept pestering you with those foolish tonics and herbs at all hours, dragging you into tests and pressuring you for an heir. Oh God, I’m so sorry, Gemma. It must have been so bitter and unbearable for you, hasn’t it?”

I’m at a loss for words, struggling to reconcile this remorseful Donovan Blackwell with the man I once knew.

Before my marriage to Cassian, I had known him as a formidable figure, a ruthless mafia boss who commanded respect and fear in equal measure. Yet, post-wedding, he transformed into a doting, stubborn elder—much like a grandfather should be—unyielding in his affection, yet never one to utter an apology.

He has always been a proud man, relentless in achieving his desires, never backing down. What could have compelled him to express such regret now?

A sudden jolt of panic races through me as a thought strikes.

“Grandpa, did the doctors say something? Are you—”

My voice falters, dread coiling in my throat. “You’re not… gravely ill, are you?”

He dismisses my fears with a wave of his hand, a small gesture that somehow manages to ease my anxiety.

“No, no, nothing of that sort.”

Relief floods my senses, and I exhale a shaky breath, but a nagging feeling lingers.

“Then, did someone say something to you?”

He shakes his head, his lips pressed tightly together, as if sealing away the truth. I wrack my brain, piecing together this complex puzzle, and I can’t help but wonder: could my absence have hurt him?

“I’m so sorry, Grandpa. I should have been there with you this afternoon. I received an urgent message from a former colleague, and in my haste to help her, I didn’t realize it was a trap. If I had known, I would have turned it down without a second thought.”

A tear threatens to spill from my eye, and I hastily brush it away with the back of my hand.

Suddenly, it clicks; Reyna’s hostility towards me stems from her belief that I was responsible for her diminished standing.

But Donovan’s voice escalates, tinged with restrained fury, as the blood pressure monitor begins to beep softly, mirroring the tension in the room. I need to diffuse this situation, and quickly.

“Grandpa, I think perhaps… you’ve misunderstood him.”

I swallow hard, nerves prickling at the thought of delivering such a message to Mr. Blackwell. Anyone else would have already found themselves in a precarious position, perhaps even on the receiving end of Donovan’s notorious wrath.

“Cassian did suggest she step down, or at least to stay out—”

“Then why is she still here?” he interjects, his voice cracking, cutting me off once more.

I can’t fathom why she remains in the picture at all! She’s a duplicitous, venomous snake, always masquerading as kind and humble. Surely only the naïve and foolish would fall for her charade. Unfortunately, my grandson appears to be one of them.

The feeling of vindication washes over me so unexpectedly that it feels like a slap.

It’s a relief to finally hear someone echo my sentiments aloud, to know that I’m not merely overreacting or imagining things.

As if I’m some envious, petty wife unable to handle a competent woman working around her husband without spiraling into madness.

I swallow hard, and then a thought pierces through the fog in my mind.

“Grandpa, did Reyna… come to visit you?”

My voice is low, but it carries an edge of determination. Suddenly, everything begins to fall into place.