Chapter 16 HER LAST WISH (I)
Chapter 16 HER LAST WISH (I)
EDWARD
Grandma still looks pale, but at least she’s no longer on the verge of death.
“Oh, come off it, Susan. I’m almost seventy-five. If I told y’all, I knew you would pump me full of medicine to keep me alive.
I have no desire to stay in this cruel world longer than I’m supposed to. Hell, I even miss my husband.”
When she looks up and spots me lounging by the door, she waves me inside.
“Edward, come here. I need to talk to you.”
I oblige, taking a seat beside her.
I want nothing more than to hug my grandma and never let go. But she doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by her near death experience. I don’t want to scare her.
She takes both my hands in her worn ones, giving me a somber look that twists something deep in my chest.
“You know I never really make demands of you, my son. But before I die, I only have one request.”
“I would do anything for you, grandma. You know that. And you’re not dying.”
“Bring Hayley home.” She cuts in. “That is my only wish. You know I love her like my own daughter. I want to see both of you together before I die.”
I pull free from grandma’s grip, shooting to my feet.
“You can ask for anything else, grandma. Anything but this and it’s yours. Hayley betrayed my trust. We’re never getting back together.”
“He’s right, mom.” Aunt Susan concurs, “we can’t bring that adulteress into our home. She’s responsible for Toby’s death!”
I share the same sentiments with my aunt, but hearing her speak about Hayley in such a hateful manner makes my guts tingle with discomfort.
Grandma will not be swayed.
“Edward, listen to me. If you let me die without seeing you and Hayley together, I will never forgive you. Do you understand?”
I open my mouth to speak but she struggles to her feet and hobbles to the door. I guess that’s the end of that conversation.
“You have twenty-four hours to bring my pregnant daughter-in-law home. Otherwise, I’ll join her on her vigil, and there’s nothing you will do to stop me.”
That said, she disappears from sight, leaving me reeling with shock and indecision.
How did she even find out that Hayley was pregnant?
“Sir, I have a tiny update regarding the investigations on Toby’s death. Just a little information I feel you should know.”
I pause mid stride, giving John my full attention,
“What is it?”
“Mrs. DaSilva claimed that she locked the doors thoroughly before leaving the house that night, but according to our investigations, those same doors had been manually disengaged before Toby wandered outside. And there are no signs of forced entry.”
My nerves instantly go on high alert.
“Wait. Are you saying that someone deliberately left the doors open so Toby could leave the apartment?”
“I’m not sure, sir. It could be that Mrs. DaSilva never really locked the doors in the first place.
But if she did, and someone deliberately opened them after she left, this could be a case of murder…”
HAYLEY
How do you move on when someone you’ve loved so fiercely suddenly leaves you behind in this cold, cruel world?
Life has lost all meaning. I don’t see colours anymore, just dull greys and cruel blacks, tainted with my grief.
I haven’t left Toby’s side for longer than an hour since he was buried.
“What if he misses me and I’m not here?” I tearfully asked Silvan when he begged me to go home and rest.
“The weather forecast says it will rain tonight. What if he gets cold?”
People say I will recover one day, but in all honesty, I don’t think I ever will. I believe I’m bound to wallow in guilt and misery for the rest of my life.
I hear the soft purr of an engine just as I brush the last of the wilted rose petals from my son’s headstone.
Turning around, my eyes narrow in surprise when I find a sleek Rolls Royce Cullinan idling a few metres away.
That’s odd. Cars aren’t allowed inside the cemetery.
A tall figure alights from the driver’s seat and I blink in recognition. It’s John. Edward’s personal bodyguard.
I already know what’s coming, but I stay still, clutching leftover roses in a death grip as Edward smoothly alights from the back seat.
My breath catches in my throat as he emerges from the car, composed and impossibly commanding.
His Loro Piana trench coat and John Lobb Oxfords speak of quiet wealth.
His eyes are ink-black today. No iota of emotion in sight.
The only evidence that Edward DaSilva lost a son three days ago is the faint traces of dark shadows underneath his eyes. Asides that, he’s a mirror of refined composure.
I brush my fingers down the hem of my dress as he approaches with a bouquet of blue roses in hand. Toby’s favorite.
For the first few seconds, he acts like I do not exist...