Chapter 11

The funny thing is, that chance to go abroad? Ronald pulled strings for her. He even had to drink at some dinner just to make it happen. When he got home, he clutched his stomach and said his stomach hurt. And me? I stayed up all night taking care of him like an idiot. We were both simps—just not for each other. I was simping for him, and he was off simping for someone else. Still spacing out, I heard that female doctor laugh and say, "Got it, no worries. Bye!" Then she opened the door and walked out. The moment she spotted me, her face changed. "Watch out!" Before I could react, a sharp stinging pain hit my right hand. The hot water spilled over. I winced, frowning from the burn. She quickly grabbed my hand and held it under cold water. Her brows furrowed with concern. "You really shouldn't zone out when handling hot water. It's dangerous." "Thankfully, it doesn’t look too bad. I’ve got some ointment in my office. I’ll put some on for you—it might sting a little, but you should be fine by tomorrow." I stared at her. Her voice was incredibly gentle. So were her movements. Then I glanced down and caught her name on the badge—Grace Mills. Grace. Like the clearing after a storm. She was just like her name: calming, kind, like sunshine after the rain. No wonder Ronald had been hopelessly devoted to her, willing to give up everything just to help her out. I couldn’t help but remember their engagement in my previous life—Ronald looking at her with such deep affection, and Grace smiling like she was genuinely happy. Despite all the drama, they ended up together after all. "Okay, the redness is going down," Grace’s soft voice pulled me back. Her clean, natural face came into view as she smiled and added, “Wait here, I’ll grab the burn ointment.” I looked at her, steady and grateful. “Thank you.” She walked back into her office to get the cream, but I didn’t wait for her. I grabbed the kettle and went back to the hospital room. Grace was technically my romantic rival, but I never had it in me to go against her--didn't even remember her name before, only that pretty, innocent face. In this life, I had even less reason to pick a fight. Steering clear of her and Ronald was hands down the smarter move. Back in the room, it was still quiet. I set the kettle down and poured a glass of water for my uncle. "Uncle Richard, have some water." Richard was silent. His beard covered most of his gaunt face, and his eyes looked dull, lifeless, like water left still for too long. I sighed. "I saved my number in your phone, okay? If anything comes up, just call me." "And don’t stress over the money. I’ll find a way.” To be real with myself, Richard didn’t look like someone who had money stashed somewhere. I had a strong suspicion he got kicked out of the family for being broke and jobless. Right as I was about to walk out, he suddenly grabbed my wrist from behind. I turned around—and saw it in his hand. A watch. Slim, silver, classic. I hadn’t even seen him take it off. He looked at it for a second, rubbed the face with his thumb, and then, without saying much, pressed it into my palm. “A little something,” he said. “For seeing each other again.” I froze for a second and glanced at my uncle. He had closed his eyes again, clearly not planning to say anything else. But when I touched the watch, it felt warm. He must’ve held it tightly for a long time, struggling with how to give it to me. My nose stung a little as I lowered my head to look at it. The leather strap was worn, the dial slightly scratched—but the weight, the make… it was the kind of thing you don’t just give away. Growing up, aside from my mom, barely anyone truly cared for me. Yet from this uncle who barely spoke and lived like he’d already given up on life… I felt something close to real family warmth. He looked worse off than I did, yet he still gave me something valuable as a welcome gift... When I got back to Emma’ place, she still wasn’t home. I flopped onto the bed, spread out like a starfish, lost in thoughts about my uncle. His heart condition was serious, and there was no one looking after him. I guessed, like Mom, he probably had a falling-out with Grandpa too. After hearing about Mom’s death, it must’ve hit him hard. Clearly, Uncle Richard cared about her—about me too. I can’t just sit around while he goes down the same path as before—dying young. But the problem is, heart surgery costs a fortune. I lost that job because Ronald messed things up for me. Now I’m jobless—where am I supposed to find that kind of money? Forget asking my dad. If I hadn’t used the excuse of buying something for Ronald’s mom, he wouldn’t have given me a dime—even if I was starving or dying. Besides, the grudge between him and Grandpa’s side of the family? Uncle Richard used to get side-eyed all the time. Now that he’s struggling, Grandpa’s more likely to sit back and laugh than offer help. Then, a thought hit me. I grabbed my phone and dialed Ronald. Maybe I could meet him tomorrow. We’ve been married a year. Even if I’ve been totally useless, I’ve cooked for him all year. Asking him to cover my uncle’s surgery—just consider it payment for being a full-time wife, is that too much? While I was working out how to bring it up, a robotic voice came on: "Sorry, the person you’re calling isn’t available right now. Please try again later..." Really? I frowned. I know Ronald. He hates missing work calls. He never puts his phone on silent—not even in the shower. So now, suddenly, I can’t reach him? In my last life, except the day I died, he never ignored my calls. I called seven or eight times in a row—nothing. I started doubting my life choices right there, staring at my phone and muttering, “Unbelievable. Ronald, you’re even worse than your past self. Last time you just hung up quickly—now you won’t even pick up? Scumbag.” Finally, on the tenth try, he answered. My jaw clenched. Then I heard him chuckle and say smugly, “Isabella, regretting it now?” Ha. He really thought I was calling to beg? I let out a cold laugh. “You’re full of yourself. I called to let you know, when we get that divorce, I want a million dollars in severance—”