From Deadbeat To Doting; Something Is Wrong With My Husband!-Chapter 57: Grandmother, Are You Dying?

However, Lucian didn’t even blink. He didn’t look at the price tag. He just pulled out a black titanium card and slid it across the glass. "You heard the lady. Wrap it up. We’re already late."

"Package that set for her, too," Lucian added.

Brianna stared at him, her heart doing a weird little double-tap against her ribs. Was this a gift? Or was this just another way of marking his territory with gold and stones? She didn’t have time to overthink the psychology of a billionaire.

When the manager turned to her, eyes gleaming with commission-breath, and asked which one she preferred, Brianna didn’t hesitate.

She looked Lucian dead in the eye and pointed at the most obscenely expensive set in the room. ’If he’s going to be crazy, I might as well get paid for the headache,’ she thought.

"That one," she said firmly.

Lucian just gave a curt nod, the "madness" still very much in control of his wallet.

On their way out, Brianna thought about grabbing a small ’get well’ gift for Rochelle. But as she approached the counter, the vibe in the store shifted from ’luxury’ to ’legal dispute.’

A woman stood ahead of her, her back to Brianna, covered in a scarf and an aura of desperation. She was snapping at the receptionist, raising her voice to a sharp, familiar cracking pitch.

"What do you mean you won’t take it? It’s a diamond!" the woman barked.

"Ma’am, it’s been over three years. The policy is clear. We cannot refund these... especially since you didn’t come with a receipt as proof you purchased this here," the receptionist replied, trying to maintain a professional tone. "Even if we can, why would you want to refund them? Are the collections not to your liking?"

The woman scoffed ridiculously. "Yes. I don’t like them anymore."

"Well, even so, there’s nothing I can do about that. I’m sorry."

"Do I look like I need your apology?!"

The receptionist glanced nervously around the store. "Ma’am, please lower your tone. Or I’ll be forced to send you out."

"Send me out?" The woman scoffed yet again. "Fine. Since you won’t give me a refund, at least I’ll be kind enough to sell this back to you."

"Ma’am, respectfully, I’ll decline. We don’t buy... cheap jewelry from people. If you’re looking to sell your jewelry, I’ll gladly refer you to a pawnshop."

"Cheap?" Reyna’s voice went up an octave, cracking like a cheap violin string. "Do you have any idea who I am? This is a designer piece! I don’t go to pawnshops with the commoners."

"There’s absolutely nothing I can do about that–"

Brianna felt a headache blooming behind her eyes. Refusing to look again, she tried to look away—it was pathetic to watch—but then she saw the two small children clinging to the woman.

Her stomach dropped.

Reyna?

With zero progress in her jewelry selling, Reyna groaned, spinning around in a huff, and slammed right into Brianna. The impact made her glasses slide down her nose.

"Are you blind—" Reyna started, unapologetically. Then, she saw who it was. The sneer that twisted her lips was instantaneous.

She eyed Brianna’s shopping bag, and immediately dropped her voice into mock pity. "Oh. It’s you. Are you here to blow your last cent on that poor husband of yours again?"

She actually laughed.

"Honestly, Brianna," Reyna tsked, leaning in. "You shouldn’t be spending like this on a man who can’t provide for you. It’s embarrassing for the family."

In contrast, Brianna didn’t say a word; she just looked down at the bag of tangled jewelry Reyna had been trying to pawn off.

Reyna caught the gaze and cleared her throat, suddenly shoving the pouch into her pocket. "Don’t look at me like that. I just... I have had so many people gifting me jewelry lately, I had to clear out the excess. It’s a burden, really."

Brianna felt a wave of secondhand embarrassment so strong it tasted like copper.

"I can see that," she said before turning to the receptionist and slid her card across the marble. "The recovery gift for my assistant. Wrap it separately."

Reyna’s eyes nearly popped out. "You’re buying for an assistant? At these prices? Brianna, you shouldn’t be playing ’rich girl’ with your measly savings. It’s pathetic. You’re going to end up in the street just to keep up appearances—"

"Honey, are you done?"

The deep, baritone resonance of the voice made the air around them suddenly feel heavy.

Reyna’s jaw dropped when she looked at the owner of the voice. Her eyes widened as she watched, frozen, at the incredibly handsome man who looked like he owned the concept of ’wealth’.

Lucian stood at the entrance, beside him was Thomas, who was still fuming about the small stone.

"This is..." Reyna stammered ridiculously. "Brianna, who is this?"

But Brianna didn’t give her the satisfaction of an introduction. She took her bag from the stunned receptionist and gave her sister a look that was half-pity, half-boredom.

"Oh, him? He’s my ’useless’ husband," Brianna said coolly. "I’m done. Let’s go"

"What else did you buy?" Lucian asked, looking into her small shopping bag.

Thomas opened the door for them, their voices fading as they entered the car.

...

By the time they reached the Dowager’s hospital wing, Brianna’s fingers slid into Lucian’s. Although it wasn’t a romantic gesture, but rather a facade for Madam Colburn’s frail heart.

Moreover, that simple gesture had cut Lucian off guard. He looked at her, but her eyes were kept forward. Since when did she initiate contact?

He stared at their joined hands, then at the side of her face, in suspicion. What is she playing at?

Lucian was completely oblivious to the fact that this was what they did whenever they came to see his grandmother.

And the moment they stepped inside, the "Grand Performance" began.

"My Sol! Brianna!" The Dowager’s voice was thin but filled with a sudden, desperate vibrance. "Look at you two. Hand in hand... it’s the only medicine I actually need."

She was laid on the hospital bed, looking paler and more sick than before. ’The sickness was really feeding on her,’ Brianna thought, pitifully.

When the Dowager noticed the pitiful look on their faces, she put on a brave smile, like her fingers were trembling under her blanket.

Leaning in, Lucian’s tone dropped into concern. "Grandmother, how are you feeling?"

"I’m hanging in there, truly," she sighed, patting Brianna’s hand. "I’m just trying to stay alive long enough to see you two’s marriage, finally finalized."

Brianna stiffened under the pressure of that. Here she was counting the days until she divorced this scum, but the Dowager was counting for a finalization.

She groaned inwardly, but gave a fake outward smile.

"So," Madam Colburn’s eyes literally twinkled with that terrifying great-grandmotherly expectation. "Tell me, when am I getting my great-grandchildren? You know my heart won’t be fully at peace until I hear the pitter-patter of little feet in the villa. I don’t have forever, you know."

Upon hearing that, Brianna immediately withdrew her hands from the Dowager’s grip. The ultimate reminder of her predicament wasn’t when Reyna or other people called her barren, but when she had to lie to someone with a fragile expectation.

In contrast, Lucian, the man who had forgotten the very history that broke her, looked down at her with a lazy arrogant tilt of his head. He didn’t see the trauma; he just saw a woman being shy.

"Grandmother, don’t rush her," Lucian said, as his voice dropped into a hero’s tone. He leaned in slightly, letting his shoulder brush Brianna’s. "Quality takes time. Besides, I’m enjoying having her all to myself for now. A man shouldn’t have to compete with a baby for his wife’s attention quite yet, right?"

He gave Brianna’s hand a squeeze, searching hers with a strange, newfound intensity. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

But Brianna, who felt like she was suffocating, forced her lips into a curve; a smile that was more of a grimace.

"Of course," she chirped, the sweetness in her voice so fake it was practically toxic. "We’re... working on it. Very hard."

She let out a light, airy laugh that sounded like breaking crystal.

Lucian’s eyebrows shot up. She’s acting. He knew her "I-hate-your-soul" face, and he knew her "Leave-me-alone" face. This sugary, compliant version of Brianna was a stranger.

Was she really this terrified of his grandmother? Or was she hiding something behind that glassy stare?

"You two truly are a match made in heaven," the Dowager beamed, oblivious to the war zone happening between their joined palms. "But you’ve had three years to enjoy her all to yourself. I barely have time. At least consider a dying woman’s last wish..."

The air seemed to drop.

"Grandmother, are you dying?"

Madam Colburn’s face dropped. She looked less than someone who was on a deathbed and more like someone who was deeply disappointed in herself for leaving behind her grandson.

Although, she gave a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. "Let’s just say... I don’t have much time left."