Chapter 164
I steadied myself, my foot unconsciously pressing harder on the gas pedal.
Did I run a red light?
I couldn't remember.
I wished I could give the car wings and fly straight to Mom's side.
The car practically skidded into the hospital parking lot.
I pushed open the door, didn't even have time to lock it, grabbed my bag and sprinted toward the emergency building.
I asked at the front desk, checked the registry, and found Mom's ward floor and room number.
Couldn't wait for the elevator—I rushed straight into the fire escape stairwell and ran up as fast as I could.
The sound of my heels striking the stairs echoed through the empty passage, as frantic as my racing heartbeat.
When I reached the floor, I was gasping for breath, fine beads of sweat on my forehead. I didn't bother wiping them away, just rushed straight to the ward door.
The door was slightly ajar.
Just as I was about to push it open, I heard Mom's voice through the crack, and another unfamiliar woman's voice. The two seemed to be chatting casually, their tones relaxed, even carrying hints of laughter.
My hand froze on the door, and my anxious heart suddenly dropped.
I gently pushed the door open.
It was a regular three-bed ward, Mom in the bed by the window.
She was half-reclined against the raised hospital bed, gauze on her forehead, obvious scrapes on one side of her face already treated with medicine, looking somewhat disheveled.
But her spirits seemed good. She was chatting and laughing with a woman of similar age in the next bed, holding a cup of water in her hands.
Seeing this scene, my nerves that had been stretched to the breaking point suddenly snapped like a cut string, and my whole body went weak—I almost couldn't stand.
Overwhelming relief and lingering fear swept over me like a tsunami, instantly washing away the composure I'd forced myself to maintain the whole way here.
Tears flooded my eyes without warning, blurring my vision.
My throat felt painfully tight. In a hoarse voice, I called out, "Mom..."
Mom turned her head at the sound. Seeing it was me, clear surprise crossed her face.
Then, almost instinctively, she quickly tried to raise the white hospital-logo cup in her hand, attempting to hide her injured side of her face. This unconscious gesture of wanting to conceal it made my heart ache again.
I walked over quickly and gently but firmly pulled down her hand holding the cup.
"Mom, you don't need to hide it. I already know." My voice was still hoarse, but I tried to keep it calm.
Mom froze for a moment, then understood. When I said "I know," I didn't just mean I knew about the car accident—I knew about the lost projects and the company's troubles.
A flash of embarrassment and awkwardness crossed her face. She gave an awkward laugh, trying to brush it off with a light tone, "Flora told you again, didn't she? She just meddles too much."
"I told her not to tell you..."
She looked me up and down, her eyes full of undisguised concern, waving her hand, "Look at you, why did you rush over here?"
"I'm really fine, just minor scrapes. The doctor said I can go home after a few days of observation."
"Go take care of your business. Doesn't your company have things going on?"
Watching her—injured herself, facing setbacks, yet still immediately worried about me, trying to send me away so she wouldn't burden me—the stinging in my nose grew stronger.
I didn't respond to her words. Instead, I turned and picked up the thermos from the bedside table, added some hot water to her cup, and put it back in her hands.
"I'll ask your attending doctor about the details later." My tone left no room for argument, "I'm busy, but I won't neglect you. If you need someone to stay with you, I'll arrange it right away."
I looked at her seriously, "You like chatting. Without someone to talk to, you'll go stir-crazy."
"And about Flora, don't worry. I'll go see her."
"The only thing you need to do now is take care of yourself."
"Only when you're healthy can you keep making your big money. As for everything else," I paused, my voice growing heavier, "I'll handle it."
Mom looked at me, her expression complicated.
She opened her mouth to say something, but in the end only called my name, "Grace..."
Seeing I hadn't looked up, still fighting back emotions while fussing with things by her bedside, she suddenly moved. It seemed to pull at her injury—her brow furrowed—but she still persisted in reaching out, struggling a bit to cup my face in her hands, forcing me to look up at her.
Her palms were warm, slightly rough, but very gentle as they wiped away the tears sliding down my cheeks.
"Why are you crying?" She looked at me, her voice softening, with a hint of reproach but more concern, "I'm really fine. Look, I'm perfectly okay, aren't I?"
Since my rebirth, I rarely cried.
Because Milly was healthy and happy, which gave me the greatest strength.
Even when George hurt me again and again until my heart grew cold, I only felt hurt, exhausted, angry—but my tears seemed to have dried up.
But now, seeing the glaring gauze on Mom's forehead, the scrapes on her face that hadn't faded yet, and the exhaustion and anxiety she tried so hard to hide in her eyes, my tears wouldn't stop.
All that forced strength crumbled before my mother.
In a hoarse voice, with a sob, I said, "Mom, from now on when something happens, you can't hide it from me anymore."
"Don't always say you don't want to trouble me, that you're afraid of being a burden. We're family..."
As these words left my mouth, Mom's eyes instantly reddened too.
She pressed her lips together, showing a bitter smile full of helplessness and self-blame, "Flora and I just didn't want to trouble you too much. Flora's sick, I'm running a company—most of the startup capital was your investment."
"And after all this time, not only do I have nothing to show for it, it seems I've lost all your money..."
Her voice grew lower as she spoke, filled with deep frustration, "Flora's surgery is coming up soon, right when we need money and help, and I get in a car accident at a time like this."
"Now there's no one to help you with Milly. What are you going to do? You have to work and take care of a child all by yourself. I've been so worried about this I can't sleep at night. That's why this morning when I got that call, I got distracted for a moment and didn't notice the car next to me..."
She explained urgently, as if afraid I'd think she was deliberately causing trouble, "But don't worry, the traffic police ruled it was the other party's fault."
"Medical expenses, lost wages—we don't have to pay a cent."
"I'll just take this opportunity to rest up in the hospital, think of it as... as getting a full body checkup. It's actually good."
She tried hard to make her tone sound light, even with a hint of finding a silver lining.
Finally, she looked at me and said, word by word, "Grace, go ahead and handle your business, get your divorce. Don't worry too much about me or Flora."
"I won't be a burden to you."
These words were like a needle, stabbing straight into the softest part of my heart.