Chapter 115
The first thing Henry Camden heard when he opened his eyes was the soft beeping of a monitor. His vision was blurry at first, the bright hospital lights making him squint.
For a long moment, he just stared at the ceiling, trying to piece together what had happened.
He remembered the lake. The sunlight. Meeting Sandra when he got home with Rachel. His fight with Sandra and then how the world had gone dark.
He turned his head slightly. Sandra was seated beside his bed, scrolling through her phone. Her hair was tied up neatly, her face pale with fatigue. When she noticed he was awake, she quickly straightened up.
“Grandfather?” she said, relief flooding her voice as she leaned closer. “You’re awake p>
Henry blinked a few times, his lips parting as if it took effort to speak. “Rachel His voice was hoarse. “Where’s Rachel p>
The smile that had begun to form on Sandra’s face vanished. She pulled back slightly, her jaw tightening. “She’s gone,” she said flatly.
Henry frowned. “What do you mean gone p>
“I asked her to leave,” Sandra replied. “She’s not coming back p>
Henry’s tired eyes sharpened immediately. “You did what p>
Sandra crossed her arms, trying to stay composed. “I asked her to leave. She’s been dismissed. You nearly died today and it’s all because of her p>
“That’s not true,” Henry said weakly but firmly. “I’m sick and dying. Fainting every now and then is expected. You should know Rachel didn’t cause this p>
“No, she did, Grandfather!” Sandra insisted, frustration creeping into her tone. “You collapsed today because she let you overexert yourself. She’s reckless and careless. I won’t let her risk your health again p>
Henry let out a slow breath, shaking his head slightly. “No, Sandra. You’re wrong. Rachel was the one who helped me breathe again. She… she makes things feel alive again p>
Sandra’s mouth fell open. “You can’t be serious p>
“I am,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “It’s not Rachel who’s putting me at risk here. It’s you p>
“Me?” she exclaimed, disbelief flashing in her eyes.
“Yes, you,” he said quietly but with weight. “You make me worry constantly. You get me into arguments. You treat me like a fragile object instead of a man who’s still living. All of that is not care, Sandra. And you won’t see it because you’re caught up in your own world p>
Sandra stared at him, stunned by the sudden sharpness in his tone. “So now you’re saying I’m the problem p>
“I’m saying you’re smothering me,” Henry replied, his chest rising and falling heavily. “Rachel understood that I still needed to breathe. She gave me room to live.” Orıginal content can be found at.net
Sandra took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, but her voice trembled with anger. “So now you’re defending her p>
“I’m not. I’m asking you to go get her back because I don’t approve of you firing her,” Henry said firmly, meeting her gaze.
Sandra blinked in disbelief. “You just woke up, and the first thing you do is quarrel with me over Rachel? What is it with her that I’m not seeing p>
Henry frowned. “What do you mean p>
Sandra’s tone grew sharper, laced with suspicion and pain. “You’re acting like that woman has some kind of hold on you. Like she’s cast a spell or something p>
He looked at her, confused and frustrated. “Sandra, that’s ridiculous p>
“Is it?” she shot back, her voice rising. “Because if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re in love with her p>
The words hung in the air like a sudden gust of cold wind.
Henry’s breath caught. “That’s nonsense,” he said quickly, almost too quickly. “I’m not p>
But as the denial left his lips, something inside him hesitated. A tiny, unsettling voice whispered in the back of his mind, “Aren’t you p>
Thinking that, his heart skipped a beat and he visibly stilled.
Sandra didn’t notice. She was too caught up in her own frustration. “If she really doesn’t have a hold on you,” she said tightly, “then stop acting like you’re in love with her p>
Before he could reply, she turned and walked briskly to the door. “I’ll go get the doctor. We need to go home so you can rest p>
The door shut behind her, and silence filled the room.
Henry stared at the ceiling again, his heart pounding softly against his ribs. He could still hear her words echoing in his head, loud and clear.
“Me, in love with Rachel?” he asked himself in disbelief.
He tried to laugh it off, but the sound didn’t come. Instead, a long, quiet sigh escaped his lips.
Love? Him? That was absurd. Very absurd. He was too old for such foolishness. Not just old but he was also too close to the end of his life to be starting something new.
And yet, when he closed his eyes, all he could see was Rachel. The way she smiled when he said something sarcastic. The way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t watching. The gentle way she handled his medicine. The little jokes she made just to lighten his mood. And how much she took extra care of him and Timothy.
He remembered her scolding him when he forgot to take his pills, her hands trembling slightly when she helped him down the stairs after his first collapse. She always tried to look calm, but he’d noticed the worry in her eyes. She truly cared for him.
And he’d slowly, without realizing it had started to care back. Despite telling himself he wouldn’t get attached to anyone, she’d somehow grew in him in such a short period of time.
He turned his head slightly, his chest tightening with a feeling he couldn’t quite name. Maybe it had started with gratitude; the kind that grows when someone stays by your side when no one else does. But somewhere along the way, it had turned into something deeper. Something softer and something far more dangerous than he could ever imagine.
She’s just my caretaker, he told himself. That’s all she is.
But just as he told himself that, another memory came. One of Rachel’s laughter that day when he was playing the piano and also at the lake. Her hair catching the wind, her eyes warm and bright as she told him about herself and her sister. She had looked at him like he was more than an old man to take care of. She had looked at him like he was a person who still mattered.
He swallowed hard.
“You’re in love with her p>
Sandra’s voice echoed again and he closed his eyes tightly, as if shutting them would silence the thought. But it didn’t. It only made it clearer.
And then, as if struck by something heavy, another thought followed — one that nearly made his chest ache more than his heart condition ever could.
What if she feels the same way?
He’d seen the way Rachel sometimes looked at him—hesitant, almost guilty, like she was fighting something she didn’t want to feel. The way she smiled too quickly when their eyes met, the way her voice softened whenever he thanked her.
Could it be?
Could sweet, gentle Rachel have fallen for a dying man? Does she even know what love was?
Henry’s hand trembled as he pressed it lightly against his chest. The heart monitor beside him beeped softly, steady and cruel. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.
“No,” he whispered under his breath. “That can’t happen. It shouldn’t p>
Because what good would come from it? He was living on borrowed time. His health was failing. Falling in love now would only bring her pain.
A sad smile curved his lips. “Maybe it’s for the best,” he murmured. “Maybe Sandra was right to send her away p>
He looked toward the window. “At least this way,” he whispered, “she can start over early. She deserves a life and not an ending with me p>
A quiet knock came on the door. The doctor stepped in, clipboard in hand, followed by Sandra, whose face had regained its calm mask.
“Mr. Camden,” the doctor said kindly, “how are you feeling p>
Henry nodded faintly. “Better,” he said. “Just a little tired p>
“That’s normal. You can be discharged soon, but please take it easy. No stress, no walking long distances for now p>
Sandra nodded quickly. “I’ll make sure of that, Doctor p>
Henry didn’t say anything more. He simply looked at the doctor, then at the door.
Within the hour, the paperwork was done, and they were ready to leave.
Back at the mansion, the ride home was silent. Sandra helped him inside, her face expressionless. The house felt larger than usual and not to mention emptier too.
Mr. Hanes, came to welcome them, his face lighting up with relief. “Sir, it’s good to have you home,” he said warmly.
Henry managed a small smile. “Thank you, Hanes p>
Sandra helped him settle into his armchair, arranging the blanket over his legs. She looked tired but satisfied that he was back home safely.
Henry sat quietly for a long moment, then looked up at Mr. Hanes.
“Hanes,” he said softly, his voice calm but firm.
“Yes, sir p>
“Make sure Rachel doesn’t come back to this house,” Henry said.
Sandra’s head snapped up, surprise flashing in her eyes.
The butler blinked, startled. “Sir p>
“You heard me,” Henry said, his tone low and steady. “If she returns, tell her I said she shouldn’t. She deserves better than this place p>
Mr. Hanes hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yes, sir p>
Like he’d told Rachel, his job was to do as he was told, not to ask questions.
Sandra watched him quietly, unsure what to make of her grandfather’s sudden calm. She had expected him to demand Rachel back, to argue again. But instead, he seemed resigned and tired in a way that frightened her.
Henry turned his gaze to the window, where the last traces of sunlight faded behind the trees. His face was calm, but his eyes carried a sadness that no one else in the room could understand.
Inside, his thoughts were a storm.
Maybe this is how it should be, he thought. She’ll heal faster this way. She’ll forget me.
But even as he told himself that, he knew it was a lie. Because some people, once they enter your life, can’t be forgotten, not even when you try to let them go.