After sending the message, I deleted Lindsay from my contacts, preparing to bring my mother back home.
Along the way, nurses looked at me with pity in their eyes. I heard them whispering behind my back, discussing my deceased mother. This hospital was where I often brought my mother for check-ups. Her health was poor, and apart from the time when she was diagnosed with cancer, Lindsay never accompanied me to the hospital.
For every check-up, I was alone with my mother.
Lindsay always said she was busy with work, that her company was just stabilizing and she couldn't spare the time. I didn't blame her. It was my mother, after all.
I tried to be a responsible husband, always telling her, "It's okay, I can manage. You go ahead and focus on your work."
"Lindsay, thanks to you this time," a deep voice said. I looked up and locked eyes with the speaker.
Lindsay was holding a four-year-old child in her arms. Standing next to her was none other than Nick.
They stood together, looking like a family of three.
Lindsay glanced at me, her face flashing with impatience.
Nick looked surprised, then put on a fake smile. "Santos? Are you here to pick up Lindsay?"
I looked down. "No."
I tried to leave, but Lindsay grabbed my hand and complained, "Why are you watching me like a hawk? I'm just helping a friend. Did you follow me here? Afraid I'm cheating?"
She thought I was there for her. I used to hate her meeting Nick and always tried to keep them apart.
I didn't care anymore. I brushed her hand off like a speck of dust. "Excuse me."
I wanted no more to do with them, but Nick wasn't done.
He stepped forward. "Santos, Kim cried for his mom all day yesterday. I had Lindsay check on him. He's got a fever, so we came to the hospital. Nothing is going on. Don't be mad."
Lindsay frowned. "Why tell him all that? It's none of his business where I go."
Strangely, I wasn't trying to butt in. I didn't get why they were making excuses. "Well, have a nice time. Can I go now?"
Nick jumped back in shock. Lindsay snapped, "Santos, where are your manners? Nick's just explaining. Why the attitude?"
What was wrong with my attitude?
I felt dead tired. I didn't want to argue or explain. With my mother's death notice in my hand, I just wanted to take her home.