Healing Hearts

♡ Nia's POV ♡

I opened my eyes to find Juan still asleep beside me, his brow glistening with sweat. His fever had spiked during the night, and the thought of him suffering weighed heavily on my heart.

Gently, I reached out and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. His skin was hot to the touch, and I couldn't help but worry about him. I knew he was a strong, resilient man, but seeing him vulnerable and unwell broke my heart.

"Juan," I whispered, my voice barely above a breath. He stirred but didn't wake, lost in the grip of his feverish dreams.

I sighed and carefully slipped out of bed. It was time to take care of him, just as he had cared for me so many times. I rummaged through his medicine cabinet, finding the thermometer and a bottle of fever-reducing medication. After administering it, I gently wiped his brow with a damp cloth and hoped for his quick recovery.

The day passed in a blur as I took care of Juan. I cooked him a simple, comforting meal of chicken soup, which he barely managed to eat. He tried to reassure me that he'd be fine, but I could see the exhaustion in his eyes.

As the day went on, we found small moments of solace amidst the worry. We watched the breakfast club movie together, reminiscing about our past and sharing laughter. For the first time, we felt like a regular couple, escaping the shadows of our complicated lives.

"Why did you come back to San Casas?" Juan asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

Honestly, I couldn't help but be honest. "I didn't come back mainly for Sofia. I actually returned to escape reality after things started falling apart for me in LA," I confessed.

Juan's eyes bore into mine as he listened intently. "I got demoted at work, my ex-boyfriend Matthew cheated on me, and I needed a fresh start," I explained, feeling the weight of my choices.

Juan whispered a heartfelt "thank you," and I couldn't help but chuckle. "Why are you thanking me?" I asked.

"For coming into my life," he said, his voice brimming with emotion. "You changed everything and made me a better version of myself."

We continued to talk, sharing more about our lives, our dreams, and our fears. The bond between us grew stronger as we opened up to each other, creating a connection that felt unbreakable.

Amid our deep, intimate conversation, a sudden ring from Juan's phone shattered the moment. The call sent a shock through him, and he fumbled to hold the phone, his face etched with surprise and distress.

"Nia," he said, his voice quivering with an unexpected heaviness.

My heart raced, concern flooding my thoughts. "What's happened?" I inquired, my own voice betraying my growing unease.

"It's your grandmother," he began. "She's been rushed to the hospital."

I stood there, stunned, my mind struggling to grasp the sudden turn of events. "The hospital? What's wrong?" My voice trembled with worry.

"She had difficulty breathing," Juan replied, his concern evident in his eyes. "We need to go, Nia."

"Is she... is she going to be okay?" I asked, anxiety and fear coursing through me.

Juan swiftly grabbed his jacket, and we dashed out the door, on our way to San Casas Hospital.The day that had started with hope and healing had now turned into one of the darkest days of my life.

Upon entering the hospital, we were met by the heartbreaking sight of Diego, his face swollen from crying, unable to contain his sorrow. I rushed to his side, holding him close and trying my best to console him. He was devastated and couldn't stop the tears from falling.

I guided Diego back to the waiting room where he had left Isabel and Omar. Their expressions mirrored our grief, a mix of deep sorrow and a sense of helplessness that hung heavily in the air. We stood together, seeking solace and support in one another as we awaited further news about my grandmother's condition.

Isabel embraced me tightly, her eyes filled with tears. "Nia, I'm so sorry. We did everything we could," she whispered.

Omar nodded, his voice trembling. "We were with her all the way. But she was too weak."

I nodded, feeling the tears pricking at my eyes, but I had to stay strong for Diego. I went to the nurse who had directed me to the room to inquire about my grandmother's condition.

"I could see her body under the oxygen," I told the nurse. "Will she make it?"

The nurse sighed, her expression sympathetic. "I'm afraid she's in a very delicate condition. The cancer is in its final stage, and she hasn't been coming regularly for chemo. Additionally, she's already quite old, and her bones are very weak."

My heart sank. The words from the nurse were a bitter confirmation of my worst fears. I felt Juan's hand squeezing mine as if to offer silent support.

The nurse continued, explaining, "It's going to be very hard. The cancer has already spread extensively." Her voice was laced with regret and sadness.

"Are you related to her?" a doctor asked me in a rushed tone.

"Yes," I said with desperation. "She's my grandmother."

Diego, overwhelmed with grief and anxiety, clung to me even tighter. Tears streamed down his face, and he couldn't seem to stop crying. His pleas to keep his beloved abuela alive filled the room.

I turned to the doctor, my voice filled with desperation. "Please, doctor, is there anything more you can do for her?"

The doctor hesitated, then shared the harsh truth. "We were considering an MRI scan to determine the extent of the cancer's spread, but she's already too old. Anesthesia would also be a severe risk given her allergies. I'm truly sorry, but we won't be able to operate on her."

A rush of anger and helplessness surged through me. "So you're just going to leave her to die?" I cried out, my emotions reaching a breaking point But no words could ease the agony of watching my beloved abuela slip away.

As we stood there in the sterile hospital room, surrounded by the heart-wrenching sounds of machines, I watched the monitor next to her bed. It started beeping erratically. Doctors and nurses rushed to her side, working frantically to stabilize her.

The room was filled with urgency, but it was too late. I could see her frail body struggling, and then, in a devastating moment, I watched the monitor's heartbeat line go flat.

I cried out as my grandmother's life slipped away. The doctor gently closed her eyes, and a nurse removed the life support. In that somber room, surrounded by the cold machinery, my abuela took her last breath, leaving a void in our hearts that would never be filled.