Hate To Love You My Billionaire Lover

“The form said you have no other relatives. If you ever need anything, please call me.”

“Thank you.” Aside from this, Arianna did not know what else to say.

She took the kindness from Charles as a formality. It was very unlikely that she would call him, and she even questioned whether or not he really meant it.

Speaking of Franco Sanchez, his body was deteriorating at this point. But his spirit was still doing well. He was sleeping longer hours during both the days and nights and did not have much energy when he was awake.

The doctors did not think the extended periods of sleep were a good thing, but there was nothing they could do. Keeping him awake would be just as bad.

When the old man was asleep, Arianna sat quietly by his side, counting her grandfather’s breath while staring at his wrinkles and white hair. She tried to evade any unpleasant memory, leaving only blank space in her brain.

She finally got more time to accompany her grandfather by working at the research facility. She helped comb his hair, held his hand, and shaved his beard. But she had to do this all while he was asleep. He did not like to be touched when he was awake. Likewise, Franco Sanchez struggled against everyone’s touch when he was awake, preferring to try to do things for himself.

A few hours before her encounter with Charles, Mr. Sanchez was asleep with Arianna sitting at his bedside. She stood up to stretch her legs when she noticed a few dead leaves on the green vines that framed the window outside. Sticking her arm out the window, she picked the dead leaves off.

But when she finished and jumped off the chair, her legs lost their supporting power, making her whole body stumble forward. She almost fell to the floor and knocked over the chair. A loud crash echoed through the room.All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Arianna quickly stood up and straightened herself out. She then carefully put the chair back in its place.

Suddenly, someone behind her said, “Janet, why are you still so careless?”

Turning around, there was a shocked look on Arianna’s face. Janet was her mother’s name. She could still remember the moment in her childhood when her mother fell off a chair while trying to hang a curtain. It took a long time for her to recover from her injuries.

Franco Sanchez was wide-awake. He focused his eyes on Arianna’s face and said, “Oh, it’s you, Arianna. I thought it was your mom judging from your back.”

Arianna was glued to where she was standing and could not move. Then her grandfather continued, “Look at me, I am getting forgetful. It doesn’t seem like your mother and father have passed away. It just feels like they are on a long vacation. When did you come back? You are much thinner than before.”

Though his words sometimes make Arianna believe that he was healing, his memory, in fact, was not restored. Instead, memory fragments were flipped, twisted, and jumbled together in chaos. He sometimes even took someone else’s story and claimed it as his own.

His brain was not sober enough. He never asked why he was in the hospital, what was happening to him or his company, what pills he was being told to take, or why he was given IV fluids. He was not thinking logically. Franco Sanchez did not realize his memory and sanity were lost.

Nevertheless, one thing was certain. At this moment, he recognized Arianna and admitted that she was his granddaughter.

****

The days in the hospital did not change much. Franco Sanchez was able to hold onto his recognition of Arianna to some degree. Though he treated her the same as before he recognized her, he called her Arianna now.

His thinking was very slow, and his actions were full. There were rarely any emotional responses that related his mental state to a more serious condition. The drugs used to inhibit his brain activity in order to control his condition were also playing a large part.

Arianna was not very emotional either. One of her wishes came true, but at a very high price. Her mental world had long been as empty as a desert. A huge countdown was ticking in her head, taking away all the pleasures in her life. She was losing time with every passing second.

Perhaps the countdown was not there to mark her grandfather’s remaining days but instead was marking her return.

The old man’s time asleep was still steadily increasing. He could remember fewer and fewer things when he awoke. He refused to go outside constantly, so he always sat in his bed staring at nothing through his gloomy eyes.

At these times, Arianna sat next to his bed and said nothing. Franco Sanchez did not look at her though she stared at him the whole time.

Dr. Lynch still couldn’t do much about his condition. Arianna’s only request was to alleviate her grandfather’s pain as much as possible. She wanted him to spend his last days in as much peace as he could.

Sometimes Mr. Sanchez reads newspapers and magazines. But his vision was worsening, and the stories upset him occasionally. He often had to let Arianna read to him, but she also had to be careful and choose stories that he would like.

One day he wanted to read a thick hardcover book. He read a few pages before asking Arianna to take over for him.

The book was One Hundred Years of Solitude. Arianna loved reading that book in high school. But in the past ten years, she hadn’t thought of the book once. When she saw the book for the first time in a decade, it felt as if she saw a poisonous snake.

Her grandfather never liked reading such novels when he was still sane. The book pages were yellow and musty. She did not know where he found it.

Franco Sanchez fell into the tenderness of past memories, “This book was your grandmother’s and mother’s favorite. They recommended it to me many years ago, but I haven’t had the chance to read it until now.”

Arianna read the novel to the old man slowly. She enunciated every word and took deep breaths. It was so slow that it was hard for her to even follow along. The words became meaningless, and it was like torture.