Page 142 of Wrecked (Dirty Air 3)

“All I’ve done is think about my decisions.”

“Yet you’re still miserable. Sounds like a bad decision to me.”

“Dad?”

“Mm.”

“How do you feel when Mum has a bad day?”

“Like I want to rip apart the world and find a solution for her. I want to scream about how life isn’t fair and what was the point of making all this money if I can’t buy the one thing I want.”

“My point exactly.”

“That might be yours. But my point? The bad days will never outweigh the good ones. Nothing can replace all the memories I have and all the ones I’ll continue to make with Mum. So, no, son, your point is null and void. I could scream life isn’t fair. But life gave me her, so it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. You need to ask yourself, will you let Elena do the same?”

49

Elena

I wake up and get dressed so I can visit Abuela. The new facility I put her in when I started working with Jax is only a few minutes’ walk away. Everything about the place is convenient, and I’ll miss it when my funds run out and I have to move her. Consistency is essential for people like Abuela, and it kills me to disrupt her life yet again.

I walk into the building and greet the staff. One of the managers calls my name, asking me to come to his office.

A bunch of scenarios run through my head as to what he wants from me. Year after year I received disappointing news about Abuela, and I’m afraid this is no different. He points me in the direction of an empty chair as he takes a seat across from me.

“So, Ms. Gonzalez, I’m sorry to call you in before you could see your grandmother, but I didn’t want to miss you.”

“Is she okay?”

“Oh, yes. I didn’t mean to cause you any alarm. She is doing fine and is rather happy here. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

I relax in my seat as my heart rate slows down. “Oh, good. I was worried something happened.”

“If anything were to happen, we would give you a call and have you come down here right away.”

Right. Way to jump to conclusions. I nod.

“I know we discussed the breakdown of fees before you had to travel. I wanted to let you know that the remainder of your grandmother’s stay has been covered.”

My jaw drops open. “The remainder? But I don’t know how long that is.”

I do the math in my head, wondering who would donate that much money. The only person I deem sneaky enough to do this plan is one of London’s richest non-royal citizens.

The very one who broke my heart only a few weeks ago.

I run a shaky hand over my mouth, processing the breakdown of fees the manager shows me. When I ask who donated the funds, he replies that he can’t say.

Why would Jax do this? Why would he want to help me after he said he wants nothing to do with me? This type of donation is not what someone does when they don’t want to see someone again.

The only type of question that keeps popping up in my head is why.

Why this?

Why does he still care?

Why did he let me go?

Why didn’t he love me enough to share his burden with me?