Chapter 156 She Will Never Have Children
Isabella stood by the window, gazing out at the yard. "I'm checking to see if Grandma's vegetables have come up yet. It doesn't look good this year. I haven't seen anything worth harvesting."
Donny's expression shifted, his face growing serious.
Her grandmother had passed away years ago. Did she really not remember what happened back then?
"Isabella, your grandmother passed away."
"I know."
Her answer only confused him more. If she knew, why would she say something like that?
The contradiction unsettled him. It was as if two different versions of her were taking turns speaking—two minds battling for control.
Isabella reached into her bag and pulled out a box of blood pressure medication. She handed it to him. "Can you check if Hermione and Rodolfo can take these? I asked the pharmacist, and they said this is what older people usually need."
Donny hadn't expected her to buy medicine on her own. He glanced at her overstuffed backpack, crammed full of pill bottles. She really was worried about them.
Last time she'd heard their blood pressure was high, she'd cried. He hadn't even told her how bad Rodolfo's condition actually was—he didn't want to make her panic.
"Yeah, these should work. I'll make sure they take them properly."
Isabella nodded and handed him the bag. Inside, aside from two changes of clothes, it was all medication.
Hermione was sitting by the front door, waiting.
"Isabella, you're back. I just finished cooking."
Isabella hurried over and wrapped her arms around her. "Have you been waiting here the whole time?"
Hermione patted her shoulder gently. "Of course. I missed you. I sat here so I could see you coming. I wanted to look at you a little longer."
Isabella's eyes stung. Her grandmother used to say the same thing.
Back in college, she'd come home on breaks and walk with her grandmother, hand in hand. But her grandmother always made her walk ahead.
She'd asked why once.
Her grandmother had smiled. "When you walk in front, I get to watch you a little longer."
Her grandmother had watched her grow up. And then she'd left.
Sensing her sadness, Hermione reached up and touched her face. "Don't think too much, sweetheart. You're home now. We're still here."
Isabella hugged her tighter. "You have to stay healthy. Please."
Hermione nodded. "Of course. Rodolfo and I are doing fine. We're going to live long lives. We'll see you get married and have children. And when the time comes, I'll tell your grandmother in the next world that you were happy."
Isabella looked down. She knew better. That would never happen. Not in this lifetime. She would never have children.
Rodolfo's voice called from inside. "Don't just stand out there. Come eat. Mr. Dickson, you too."
"Don't mind if I do." Donny had planned to stay close to Isabella anyway. He needed to keep an eye on her.
Isabella walked inside with Hermione. The table was set with steaming dishes, all her favorites. There was even scrambled eggs.
Rodolfo pointed to the fish. "Isabella, sit. I caught this one this morning. Fresh as it gets."
Hermione shot him a look. "At your age, still running off to the river. I told him not to go, but does he listen?"
Isabella smiled. "Rodolfo, I remember you always loved fishing. I used to follow Hermione to find you when I was little."
Hermione sighed. "He's broken so many fishing rods over the years. Still won't quit."
"It's my only hobby. Hermione's always on my case." Rodolfo picked out the most tender piece of fish and placed it on Isabella's plate. "You don't come back often. Who knows when we'll see you again."
He didn't want her to leave. Isabella looked at him. "Your health is what matters. Don't push yourselves. I'll visit more often from now on. And eventually, I'll come back for good. I won't leave."
When she said "won't leave," all three of them looked at her with confusion.
Hermione asked carefully, "Are you living alone? You mean you'd move back here by yourself?"
Isabella looked puzzled too. She wasn't alone. Her grandmother was still here. And her sister. The three of them could live together.
Rodolfo looked just as confused. Only Donny understood what was happening. He jumped in quickly. "This fish really is excellent. Better than anything at the market. With your cooking, Rodolfo, you could work in a restaurant."
The compliment made Rodolfo beam. But in the middle of his laughter, his chopsticks clattered to the floor. His hand flew to his chest. His face went white. His breathing turned ragged.
"Rodolfo!" Hermione shot to her feet, her voice shaking. Isabella stood too. Donny was already moving, catching him before he fell.
Donny pressed two fingers to Rodolfo's wrist, then pulled back his eyelid. His jaw tightened. "Hypertensive crisis. We need to get him to a hospital. Now."
Before anyone could respond, he grabbed Rodolfo's arms and hoisted him onto his back. He headed for the door.
"Isabella, calling an ambulance out here will take too long. You're driving. I need to monitor him. I might have to do CPR."
He glanced back at Hermione, who was trying to follow. "Hermione, stay here. You'll slow us down. Trust me. We'll bring him back."
Hermione's legs weren't strong enough to keep up. Tears streamed down her face. She grabbed Isabella's hand. "Please. Please take care of him."
"I will. I promise. Wait here." Isabella nodded hard, took Donny's keys, and helped him get Rodolfo into the car. She slid into the driver's seat.
Her hands were shaking. She turned the key. The engine roared to life. She shifted into gear.
Wrong gear—reverse.
The car lurched backward. Donny's voice cut through her panic, calm and steady. "Isabella. You don't need to rush. Take your time. You can do this. Right?"
Isabella slammed the gas. The car shot backward. She hit the brakes just before the rear end plunged into the field.
Donny had to stay in the back with Rodolfo. Otherwise, he never would have let someone in her mental state drive. He was putting all three of their lives in her hands.
Isabella took a deep breath. She reset.
Donny's voice was gentle. "This road's rough. You need to focus. Hermione's waiting for us."
Isabella nodded. She shifted again. This time, the car moved forward smoothly.
Donny kept one hand on Rodolfo's wrist, checking his pulse. But he was also watching Isabella. Rodolfo's color was getting worse. "Isabella, when the road straightens out, go faster."
"Is he getting worse?" She glanced in the rearview mirror.
Donny nodded grimly. "Yes. We need to get him to the ER as fast as possible. Can you get us there safely?"
For a moment, Isabella's eyes went distant. She saw Beatrice sitting in the driver's seat beside her, grinning. "Isabella, you're a great driver. You'll get us there safe. I know you will."
She whispered back, like Beatrice could hear her. "I can do it."
She remembered the day she got her license. No one would ride with her—except Beatrice. Beatrice had climbed into the passenger seat without hesitation and let Isabella drive her around the city.
When they got out, Beatrice's shirt was soaked with sweat. Her forehead was damp.
Beatrice had been terrified. But she'd done it anyway—to encourage her.
Isabella pressed the gas pedal to the floor. The car shot forward, tearing down the winding country road.
Donny's knuckles turned white gripping the seat. He prayed she wouldn't miss a turn and send them all off the road.