Chapter 113 Stop It
The hospital room felt too quiet. Derek was still standing beside the bed when he heard hurried footsteps in the hallway.
He didn’t turn at first. He couldn’t. He was still holding his grandfather’s hand, as if letting go would make the finality worse.
“Derek?”
Rebecca’s voice broke softly at the doorway. He closed his eyes briefly before looking up.
She was slightly out of breath, hair not as perfectly arranged as usual, worry written all over her face. She had clearly rushed here.
When she saw the scene fully, the still body, the machines turned off, Derek standing there like he had forgotten how to move, her hand flew to her mouth and she didn't need anyone to tell her what it meant.
“Oh no…”
She stepped inside slowly, as if afraid of disturbing something sacred.
“Derek,” she whispered again.
He straightened instinctively, not fully. But enough to look less broken.
“He’s gone,” he said. His voice sounded distant. Controlled, too controlled.
Rebecca’s eyes filled immediately. “I’m so sorry,” she said, and this time she crossed the room without hesitation.
She wrapped her arms around him carefully, mindful of the bed beside them. For a moment, he stood stiff, then something in him gave way.
His hands came around her waist, gripping her tighter than usual. Almost painfully. She didn’t complain, rather, she just held him.
“I was shouting at him,” Derek said suddenly, his voice rough near her ear. “Before he collapsed.”
Rebecca pulled back slightly to look at him. “You couldn’t have known,” she said quickly. “Derek, you couldn’t have known.”
His jaw tightened. “I shouldn’t have gone there angry.”
She touched his face gently. “People argue. It doesn’t mean you caused this,” she said softly but he didn’t answer, because he wasn’t going to tell her why he had gone there.
He wasn’t going to tell her about Celia. He wasn’t going to tell her that the argument wasn’t about business or inheritance or responsibility that it was about a woman who had come back into his life like a shadow.
Rebecca searched his face. “What happened?” she asked softly. “What were you arguing about?”
He hesitated for half a second too long. “Business,” he said finally. “The transition. We disagreed.”
It was another lie. Now, he seemed to be lying to her so easily.
Rebecca nodded slowly. She wanted to ask more. She felt there was more but this wasn’t the moment to push. Instead, she pulled him close again and rested her cheek against his chest.
“You loved him,” she murmured. “He knew that.”
Derek closed his eyes.
Did he?
The last words between them had not sounded like love.
They moved to the hallway after some time. Paperwork needed to be signed. Calls needed to be made.
Rebecca stayed beside him through all of it, her presence quiet but steady. When he sat down heavily in one of the waiting chairs, she crouched in front of him, taking his hands into hers.
“Look at me,” she said gently and he did. “You are not responsible for someone’s heart failing,” she said firmly. “You are not that powerful.”
Her attempt at reassurance was sincere but the irony twisted in him. He had realized his anger scared people and now here he was, wondering if it had killed someone.
Before he could respond, another voice called out.
“Derek!” it was Ryan's voice.
Derek looked up as his best friend walked down the hallway quickly, concern clear in his expression.
“I came as soon as I heard,” Ryan said, gripping Derek’s shoulder firmly. “I’m so sorry.”
Derek nodded once. Rebecca stood.
“I’ll get us some coffee,” she said softly. “You both look like you need it.”
“You don’t have to—” Derek started.
“I want to,” she insisted gently and he let her go.
He watched her walk down the hallway until she turned the corner. Only then did Ryan sit beside him.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Hospitals have a way of forcing silence on people.
Finally, Ryan exhaled. “What happened?”
Derek stared at the floor, then he said quietly, “I confronted him.”
“About?”
There was a pause, then Derek sighed.
“About Celia.”
Ryan’s head lifted sharply.
“She told me he made her leave,” Derek continued, his voice low and strained. “Said he paid her. Said I wasn’t ready. I went there furious. I demanded answers.”
Ryan listened carefully. “And?” he prompted.
“And I shouted at him,” Derek said. “I accused him of ruining my life. Of stealing something from me. And then he collapsed.”
The words sounded even uglier spoken aloud. Ryan leaned back slightly, absorbing it.
“You think you killed him,” Ryan said plainly.
Derek didn’t deny it. “I should’ve waited,” he said. “I should’ve controlled myself.”
Ryan shook his head slowly. “Stop it Rek,” he said firmly.
Derek looked at him.
“You didn’t cause his heart condition,” Ryan continued. “Doctors have been warning about his health for years. Stress didn’t appear out of nowhere because of one argument.”
“It wasn’t just an argument,” Derek muttered.
Ryan studied him. “Okay,” he said carefully. “Let’s say he did ask Celia to leave. Ask yourself something,” he said, and Derek frowned slightly.
“Why would he?” Ryan asked. “Your grandfather loved you more than anyone. You know that.”
Derek’s jaw tightened. “Maybe he thought she wasn’t good for me.”
“Or,” Ryan said slowly, “maybe he saw something you didn’t.”
The words lingered and Derek looked away.
“You’re rewriting everything right now because you’re grieving,” Ryan continued more gently. “You’re mixing guilt with memory. That’s dangerous.”
Derek didn’t respond because a part of him didn’t want to question Celia’s version of events.
If his grandfather had been wrong, then Derek had been wronged. But if his grandfather had been protecting him… Then Derek had just screamed at a man who was trying to shield him.
Ryan leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Don’t turn this into some tragic love story in your head,” he said quietly. “And don’t blame yourself for a man’s failing heart.”
Derek swallowed. “I just needed answers,” he said, almost defensively.
“And now you have consequences,” Ryan replied softly. “That doesn’t mean you caused them.”
Footsteps approached. Rebecca returned, holding three cups carefully. She handed one to Ryan, one to Derek.
Her fingers brushed Derek’s hand briefly. He looked up at her. Her eyes were red, but steady. She had no idea what the argument had truly been about. She had no idea that the woman who once broke him was now at the center of his guilt.
She just saw a man who had lost his grandfather, and she loved him. Derek wrapped his hand around the warm coffee cup.
Ryan’s words echoed faintly in his mind. Maybe he saw something you didn’t but Celia’s voice echoed louder.
You didn’t fight for me.
Derek stared at the hospital floor. Grief sat heavy in his chest. Guilt pressed against it and somewhere beneath both of those things—
Doubt began to grow.
Happy New Month my dearest readers