A relentless pressure seemed to crush my chest. I hated Henry, but I hated myself even more.
I hated Henry for his brazen affair, but I hated myself even more for ever allowing myself to love him.
But why would Henry bother to come all the way to the hospital from his workplace?
I had a sudden realization, so I grabbed my phone quickly. A new message greeted me: [Wendy, I've already reminded you before. Now your dearest relative is on her deathbed. Does that make you feel any better?]
She did it on purpose.
Rage surged within me, my vision blurring with fury, and my entire body trembling uncontrollably.
My mother was taken aback by my sudden reaction.
"Wendy, you are scaring me."
"Family members of the patient, I'm afraid the patient's condition is not optimistic. You can go in and talk to her." My mind went blank and I rushed to my grandma's bedside.
Grandma looked much thinner and pretty weak, like her spirit had been dulled by illness.
With great effort, she opened her eyes and whispered, "Wendy, call Henry. Grandma needs answers."
I quickly nodded and immediately dialed Henry's number. I tried calling him again and again, but his phone was off.
Henry didn't want to answer my call.