The Year She Stopped Being Crazy for Him novel Chapter 7

Natalie’s hands shook, too afraid to step inside.

After finding the attending physician, she learned her grandmother had been diagnosed with late-stage lung cancer a month ago. Her grandfather had sold the house they meant to retire in just to afford the wildly expensive experimental treatments, but the staggering medical bills were a bottomless pit. Her grandmother had refused to tell any of the children, fully intending to just wait for the end.

A suffocating wave of guilt crashed over Natalie. She had spent all her time revolving around Hassan, completely oblivious that her own flesh and blood was fighting for her life.

After her mother passed away, she was entirely rejected by the Thornton family. It was her maternal grandparents who took her in and raised her, even enduring the pressure of threatening to sever ties with their own son.

From then on, she firmly believed her only real family was her grandparents and Hassan.

"Your grandmother's condition is incredibly complex. Given her age, we're keeping her on a conservative treatment plan for the next three months. After that, we need to operate. The specialist with the absolute highest success rate for this kind of procedure is Dr. Leroy Weston. I reached out to him on your behalf, but since he's largely retired from the operating room, he politely declined."

Leroy Weston was a medical prodigy who grew up in an orphanage. He was notoriously eccentric, and his only real connection was Faust Carlson—Hassan's father.

Faust was also the person who had been the most vehemently opposed to Hassan marrying Natalie.

In their four years of marriage, she had barely even seen Faust.

"I'll handle Dr. Weston." She scribbled down her phone number. "If anything changes with my grandmother, please call me. As for the medical bills... please tell them the cost of the medication went down, and I'll cover the rest. And please, don't tell them I was here."

Natalie pushed the door open and stepped out. Glancing through the bustling crowd in the hallway, she spotted a tall figure in the distance.

He was a notorious germaphobe and a perfectionist. Outside the bedroom, it was almost impossible for Natalie to touch him—holding hands and hugging were out of the question. And she had, of course, accommodated his every quirk.

Another sharp prick of pain pierced her chest. She let out a breath. "Are you free for our divorce now?"

His expression darkened, his voice completely flat. "I'm free."

When they headed out, “the family of three” got into Hassan's car together. Natalie hailed her own cab.

Notice her actions, Hassan didn't say a word.