Niamh could tell Jonathan had misunderstood the nature of her relationship with
Nestor.
But she didn’t bother to clear things up.
It wasn’t that she wanted Jonathan to keep thinking the worst, nor was she trying to make him jealous. The truth was, her family ties to Nestor were
complicated–explaining them would mean digging up a past she’d rather keep
buried.
Ever since she’d been forced to change her name and start over, she’d resolved to be Niamh, and Niamh alone.
Now, standing in the hallway with Jonathan, neither of them said a word. The silence stretched between them until, at last, Sprague and Marigold excused themselves to the family lounge for a break. It was finally Niamh’s chance to visit Clifford in his room.
Jonathan didn’t try to stop her, nor did he follow her inside.
So Niamh sat alone at Clifford’s bedside, looking at the worn, drawn lines of his
face.
“Grandpa, I’m so sorry…” Her voice trembled, thick with tears, her eyes red and raw.
Thank God the surgery had gone well. If something had happened to Clifford–if she’d lost him—she would never have forgiven herself.
She stayed by his side the entire night, keeping vigil until dawn, too anxious to sleep.
Sprague and Marigold managed to get a little rest, enough to recover their strength. When they returned and found Niamh still at Clifford’s side, they promptly shooed her out.
That was when Clifford finally woke up.
“Nia…”
The old man’s eyes had barely fluttered open before he called her name, prompting Marigold to roll her eyes.
“Your favorite granddaughter–in–law nearly scared you to death, and she’s still the one you ask for…” Marigold muttered under her breath, earning a sharp look from Sprague.
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Chapter 301
Clifford had just come back from the brink; the last thing he needed was Marigold’s sharp tongue making things worse.
Blinking, Clifford gazed around the spacious hospital room. “Where’s Nia?”
Marigold’s patience snapped. “That ungrateful girl–does she know anything besides how to file for divorce? You can’t imagine how worried we were during your surgery. If it hadn’t been for Jonathan pulling strings and getting that world–renowned cardiologist here, you wouldn’t have made it through… Niamh was no help at all. All she did was upset you-”
“Enough, Marigold. That’s quite enough,” Sprague interrupted, physically steering her away from the bed.
Jonathan stood off to the side, staying silent. Clifford shot him a look full of anger and disappointment, so Jonathan figured it was safest to simply blend into the background.
Out in the corridor, Niamh heard Clifford had woken up. Relief washed over her, her heart finally settling after a night of dread.
Still, she didn’t rush in. It wasn’t that she feared being sent away again, but she worried Clifford might get agitated if he saw her too soon.
She sat down on a bench, barely there for a minute before Jonathan, Sprague, and Marigold filed out of the room.
Jonathan stopped in front of her. “Grandpa wants to see you.”
Niamh stood and headed for the door, but Jonathan’s voice stopped her.
“He just woke up. He’s still very weak–don’t upset him,” he warned. His tone was calm, almost indifferent, but Niamh could still hear the hint of reproach, as if she’d deliberately said something to make Clifford ill.
Her chest tightened. With a sigh, she walked into the hospital room.
“Nia…”
Clifford lay in bed, struggling to reach out to her.
She saw the deep apology in his eyes, and the ache of concern he felt for her.
Niamh’s nose prickled, and she crossed to him, sitting down at his side.
“It’s Jonathan who’s wronged you… It’s all of us–the Thomas family owes you, Nia…” Clifford’s voice was hoarse.
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Niamh shook her head gently. “Don’t, Grandpa. What matters now is that you get
better.”
Clifford nodded, letting the subject drop, but Niamh could tell he hadn’t truly let it
- go.
He’d always dreamed of holding a great–grandchild in his arms. Never in a million years would he have believed that the child he’d longed for was lost–taken by the very grandson he loved most.