Chapter 195 Chapter One-Hundred: Me & Grandpa.

Chapter 195 Chapter One-Hundred: Me & Grandpa.
Chapter One-Hundred: Me & Grandpa.

Ileana’s POV

“Ileana—!”

“Ileana, stay with us!”

Those were the last words I heard before the darkness swallowed me whole.

The instant Wyatt’s fingers brushed my cheek, my body locked. Fire scorched its way down my throat, searing and relentless, as if my lungs had forgotten how to breathe. My heart raced—then seized. My fingers stiffened just as I reached for Remy.

Remy.

I saw him the moment the doors burst open—him, the Generals, the police. Pain carved deep lines into his face, guilt burning in his eyes as if he believed he had failed me. I wanted to scream that he hadn’t. That he was one of the best things that had ever happened to me. That this rebirth—this second life—had been brighter because of him.

If I’d known this would happen again… I would have told him.

When my eyes adjusted, the darkness gave way to color.

A vast horizon stretched before me, painted in soft pinks and burning oranges—the kind of sky that existed only at the edge of sunrise or sunset. Wisps of light cloud drifted through the air, glowing faintly.

It was beautiful.

“Is this heaven?”

I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

“Something like that.”

My heart jolted at the sound of his voice.

My fingers trembled as I turned. Tears blurred my vision before my mind could catch up.

“G‑Grandpa?”

The figure stepped fully into view.

“Hello, little owl.”

My breath hitched.

Everything about him was the same—his smile, warm enough to mend broken souls; his eyes, still carrying decades of kindness and love. It was really him. My granddad.

I didn’t think. I didn’t hesitate. My feet moved on their own, carrying me straight into his arms.

“Grandpa!”

He held me tightly, as if afraid I might disappear again.

“Grandad—I’ve missed you so much.”

My voice broke. Sobs tore free as I clung to him, breathing him in. He smelled exactly the same—fresh herbs and wildflowers, comfort and home. His hand rested gently against my head, and I felt warm tears slip into my hair.

After two lifetimes… I had finally found him again.

“I’ve missed you too, little owl,”

he whispered.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

His voice still carried that soothing warmth—the kind that could calm any raging storm. When we finally pulled apart, he stepped back, studying me with careful eyes.

“Well,”

he said thoughtfully,

“let me take a good look at you. You’ve grown into the beautiful young woman I always knew you would.”

I smiled, memories flooding back—him telling me, over and over, that I would be the most beautiful girl in the world. Then a familiar smirk tugged at his lips.

“Though it seems you’re still the same height you were when I left.”

I scowled for half a second before bursting into laughter. Growing up, he used to tease that I was fearless as a bird—with the height of a garden gnome. Even in death, he hadn’t lost his humor.

“Granddad… where are we?”

We began walking toward the edge of a cliff. Below us, a breathtaking waterfall cascaded endlessly into mist.

“Well,”

he said after a pause,

“if I had to name it… I’d call this the waiting area.”

My brow furrowed.

“Waiting area?”

“Yes. The place one goes before reaching their final destination.”

I turned back toward the horizon, its endless expanse stretching beyond sight.

“Huh. Then I guess I really am dead.”

Pain flickered across his eyes.

“I owe you an apology, little owl.”

My head snapped toward him.

“What? Why?”

“I should have told you the truth,”

he said quietly.

“…about Wyatt.”

My pulse spiked at the sound of his name. I found myself hoping—irrationally—that they had finally taken him into custody.

“I’m sure you had your reasons,”

I said quickly.

“You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do.”

He inhaled deeply.

“If I had told you, maybe he wouldn’t have had the chance to cause so much harm.”

I hesitated before asking the question that had burned in my chest for so long.

“Did you keep it from me because you were afraid I’d end up like him?”

His head snapped toward me, eyes wide.

“End up like—no! Of course not!”

His hands lifted instinctively, as if to calm me.

“Ilie, listen to me. From the moment I met you. From the moment you asked to come with me. From the moment that little face smiled—I knew your heart was pure. I never once doubted the person you would become.”

My eyes stung. He always knew exactly what to say.

“No,”

he continued softly.

“My reasons were simpler… and far more complicated.”

“Then why?”

I pressed.

He turned back toward the horizon, a bitter smile forming.

“Because I wanted to protect my son.”

Confusion slammed into me.

“Granddad, I don’t—”

“Even after he left at seventeen,”

he said, voice heavy,

“even knowing the destruction he was heading toward… I still loved him.”

My shoulders sagged. Pity replaced confusion as I looked at him. Even after everything Wyatt had done—even after his death—my grandfather still loved him.

“I was afraid,”

he admitted,

“that if you knew the whole truth, you would only see him as a monster.”

“He is a—”

“No,”

he cut in sharply.

“Don’t say that, Ilie. Wyatt has done terrible, unforgivable things, but…”

His voice cracked.

“He’s still the boy I raised. I can’t turn that love off.”

I understood then. I hated Wyatt for wasting that love. Hated that he didn’t deserve it. But I understood my grandfather. His soul was too pure to stop loving his children—no matter what they became.

After that, I told him everything. About my short, complicated life. The friends I’d found. The family I’d chosen. My new school.

“Grandad!”

I laughed.

“You didn’t tell me you were basically a legend at Oxford!”

He chuckled.

“Legend might be a stretch.”

“They named an entire technique after you!”

“Oh?”

He laughed again.

“Well… maybe I ‘am’ a legend.”

I told him about my home, my lab, my return to Damon.

“I take it Vy’s cooking is still just as good,”

he teased.

“It is! My friends were obsessed.”

We spoke about the Thornes.

“Vy told me about the blood types.”

His expression darkened.

“Another mistake of mine. I should have told you.”

“It’s okay,”

I said.

“I understand why you didn’t. Those people are… something else.”

He laughed softly, then apologized again for all the pain they’d caused me.

“And guess what,”

I added.

“Rachel really ‘is’ Silas’s daughter.”

His eyes widened.

“No kidding. I always suspected he paid off the hospital.”

Then I told him about Remy.

A warm smile spread across his face.

“Yes. I’ve seen him watching over you. He seems like a good man.”

“He is,”

I said, smiling through tears.

“He’s amazing. I love him. I—”

The words caught in my throat.

Realization crashed down on me.

I would never see him again. The future we planned. The life we dreamed of.

Gone.

I turned away, biting back tears.

“You know,”

my grandfather said quietly,

“when you died in your first life… that was the first time in a long while that my heart truly broke.”

I looked back at him, stunned.

“You… knew?”

“Of course. I’ve been watching over you.”

His smile grew.

“I begged the gods for another chance,”

he continued.

“One more life for you. One chance to escape that family. To be happy.”

My fingers tingled.

He was the reason I returned.

“They agreed,”

he said softly.

“A one-time mercy.”

Hope flickered—then faded.

“And you lived beautifully,”

he said.

“More brilliantly than I ever imagined.”

His eyes shone with quiet sorrow.

“Still, this part hurts just a little.”

“What do you—”

He pulled me into what felt like a final embrace.

“Thank you, Ileana,”

he whispered.

“For being the best part of my life. For letting me find you. For letting me raise you. No one will ever be as proud of you as I am.”

Confusion tightened around my heart.

“Granddad—”

He stepped back suddenly, smiling through tears.

“Alright. Time to go.”

“Go where?”

“Back to where you belong,”

he said gently.

“Back to the life you deserve.”

“Wait—Granddad—what are you—”

PUSH.

\----

Wilbur’s POV:

My heart fractured as I pushed my granddaughter from the cliff.

The shock in her eyes because she didn’t understand. She actually hadn’t died that night, so this wasn’t her time.

And though I was truly happy for my granddaughter…I do wish I could have spent just a little more time with her.

Goodbye, my precious little owl. When the time is right…we will find each other again.

\--------

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound echoed like distant bells as Ileana’s eyes fluttered open. Her body felt weightless, yet heavy at the same time—as if she were sinking into the bed beneath her. The sharp scent of antiseptic mixed with artificial air freshener filled her lungs, accompanied by the steady hum of a humidifier. Warm light glowed overhead, not too bright, not too dim.

‘Where am I?’

Her thoughts felt scattered, slipping through her grasp as she tried to remember what had happened. Then, suddenly, her eyes widened.

“Grandpa—Gran—”

Her throat burned. The sound that came out was barely more than a whisper. Panic surged as she tried to move, only to feel her body refuse her commands. And then realization struck.

‘Wait… is this a hosp—'

“Ileana? Ilie! You’re awake!”

Her breath caught.

“Remy?”

He was at her side in an instant. His face crumpled as tears spilled down his cheeks, relief written into every line of him.

“I’m here, baby,”

he said softly, his voice trembling.

“I’m right here.”

She tried to shift, to sit up, but her body felt like lead.

“Remy,”

she murmured, fear creeping into her voice.

“I can’t really move.”

His eyes widened, but he quickly masked his panic.

“That’s okay,”

he said gently, brushing her hair back with shaking fingers.

“They’ve got you on a morphine drip. Welch didn’t want you waking up in pain—especially after everything. Let me get you some water!”

That made sense.

Her eyelids fluttered as she took in his face again, grounding herself in the fact that she wasn’t alone.

“Dr. Welch!”

Remy suddenly called, spinning toward the door.

“She’s awake—she’s finally awake!”

Within moments, the room filled with movement. Doctors and nurses rushed in, monitors beeped faster, and footsteps echoed against the floor. Dr. Welch stepped forward, a warm smile spreading across his face as he approached her bedside.

“Well,”

he said kindly,

“it looks like it’s our turn to say welcome back, Ms. Green.”

Back.

The word echoed through her mind, heavy with meaning.

She’d really comeback.