Chapter 8
From a young age, my parents instilled in me the belief that saving a life was a kindness never to be forgotten, which is why I treated Kenji Sullivan’s father like my own.
of guilt.
Seeing Hassan Sullivan with his head bandaged and a cast on one foot, I felt a pang
“Dad… you,” I began, stumbling over my words. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”
Hassan opened his swollen eyes and reassured me, “I’m alright. Just call me Uncle; no need to be uncomfortable.”
“I’m all for you divorcing Kenji,” he continued, prompting Kenji to stomp his foot in frustration.
“Dad!” Kenji protested.
Gracelyn, the nurse, gently interjected, “Please, no yelling. If you need to argue, take it outside.”
Embarrassed, Kenji grabbed a coffee mug and left to refill it. As he walked out, I noticed a notification pop up on his phone, showing a picture of Mikayla Payne.
Hassan took my hand. “Now that you’re divorced, I can finally feel at ease.”
“Kenji mentioned you went on vacation. Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked.
I took out my phone and showed him pictures from my trip. From the azure Mediterranean Sea to the lush Alpine forests, I shared everything I found captivating.
A rare smile appeared on Hassan’s face. “That’s wonderful. The world outside is truly amazing.”
“It’s too bad I’m too old and frail to see it myself,” he added, his voice tinged with sorrow.
Holding his hand tightly, I promised, “Once you’re better, I’ll take you to see it! I’ll cover everything. You just have to come.”
His eyelids were a blend of white and yellow, slightly reddened as he waved his hand dismissively. “I’m too old for that now. I need to rest a while…”
Half an hour ticked by, and Kenji still hadn’t returned. Worried, I went outside to find him deep in a phone conversation by the door.
“Pfft, that fool. He can’t stand up to my tricks. One tear from me, and he’s like putty,” Kenji was saying. “I’m keeping Dad company now. Don’t be tight-we agreed on this.”
“A free caregiver instead of hiring one-do you know how expensive they are? This marriage has
to be patched up, but my heart belongs to you, darling. Believe that.”
“Mikayla, I love you…”
It all clicked in an instant. Mikayla’s social media posts and our airport encounter were
orchestrated by Kenji. He needed me-not for love, but to look after his aging father, freeing up
his time and resources for her.
Kenji was truly heartless.
Any lingering guilt vanished.
Without disturbing Hassan, I quietly left the hospital and blocked Kenji on all platforms.
