Chapter 40

Grace

Her voice on the other end of the line was cool, detached, and held an edge of irritation that made my heart sink. This was the woman who had once guided me through the labyrinth of research, who had been my mentor in the days when I was just starting to formulate the idea of the longevity project.

How could she be so cold now?

“Grace,” her voice crackled with a hint of annoyance, “you do realize I’m retired, don’t you?”

I clutched the phone tighter, swallowing my nerves. “I didn’t know, but... I need your help. There’s so much we could accomplish together.”

A dry chuckle echoed from the other side. “Do you think your fake enthusiasm is enough to pull me back from retirement, Grace? I’ve been enjoying the sun, the beach, and the freedom for the past five years.”

My heart sank. She’d been gone so soon after I withdrew?

Desperation fueled my words. “You know it’s viable. It could change lives, save lives. I thought you--”

She scoffed. “I knew it was viable then. But what about now?”

“What do you mean?”

“You walked away from it once. What’s different now?” She scoffed. “Why should I believe you give a damn about it now when you didn’t then?”

My heart sank at the accusation underlying her words. She was right; I had walked away, abandoned my dreams in favor of my family. But things were different now.

“I... I had my reasons,” I stammered, trying to find the right words.

“Reasons, Grace?” Her voice turned sharp. “Is that what you call it? You abandoned your work, the research that could’ve made a difference, for a man who clearly didn’t deserve it. I knew he didn’t deserve it then. You chose the illusion of love over the opportunity to do good.”

“That’s not—”

“Cut the shit and tell the truth, Grace,” she said. “You really thought that selfish child was the man of your dreams? That he was worth everything you gave up?”

A lump formed in my throat, her words cutting through my defenses like a blade. I closed my eyes. My eyes burned with tears. I knew now how my decision to prioritize my relationship with Devin over my research could be seen as a betrayal of my own potential, but had I always known? Had I just turned a blind eye to all the signs?

“No, it’s not like that,” I tried to defend myself, my voice shaking.

“You’re as full of shit as you were then.” The woman on the other end remained unyielding. “Don’t call me talking about passion for the project when you’re just trying to soothe your own guilt.”

Then, she hung up, leaving me reeling in the silence, grappling with the truth of her words. Had I really let go of my dreams too easily? Did my devotion to Devin outweigh my commitment to my own aspirations? Had I really just… walked away for nothing? Her words hit me hard, but she had always been like that: never one to accept a half assed answer, never one to not push. As I sat there, contemplating the weight of her words, I looked at the photo on my desk.

Cecil was smiling at me. Richard was in my arms. I felt a renewed determination burn in me and I dialed her number again.

“What?”

“I wasn’t done, you old cow,” I growled. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my voice as I spoke, even as my eyes were burning with tears. “You listen to me, damn it. I wouldn’t have called you if I didn’t believe—if I didn’t know what I wanted. I’m not the same person I was back then. I’ve learned, I’ve grown, and I’m desperate to make things right.”

“Right for who?”

“For me,” I growled. “For my kids and the person I should have been strong enough to be back then.”

My jaw trembled. “You can get on your fucking high horse all you want, but you can’t tell me that you don’t still believe that it’s possible. The only reason you’re not researching it yourself is because of funding and equipment—because of honor. I get it. I…”

I wiped my face furiously. “I let you down. I betrayed you. You saw something in me that wasn’t there then, but it’s there now.”

“Is that what you think?”

“It’s what I know,” my jaw trembled. “I was young. I had all the time in the world, and now I don’t, and I am desperate to make whatever time I have matter.”

There was a pause on the other end, a heavy silence that seemed to stretch on forever. When she finally spoke, her voice was still laced with skepticism. “Desperate? That’s a strong word.”

I felt my heart pounding in my chest as I struggled to find the right words, the ones that would convince her to give me another chance.

“It’s the truth…. I need your guidance, your expertise. I want to bring the project back to life, to see it through. And... I have my reasons. Urgent ones.”

“You had reasons to leave too.”

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak.

“You know the statistics. My clock is already ticking, and my eldest is just turning five next year,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “I want to be there to see my grandchildren, to live a full life. And I can’t do that if I keep making the same mistakes. I can’t do that if I don’t see this through.”

“And if you fail?”

“Then, I fail, but I’ll know I did everything I could to… to save my kids the same pain I had to go through. I couldn’t save him.” I sniffled. The tears gushed from my eyes. “I couldn’t save him, but I can save myself, but I need your help.”

I set my jaw. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes. Please, just give me another chance. If you don’t help me, I’ll find someone else, but it won’t be the same. Will you come back or not? I have a ticking clock to race.”

Silence hung in the air again, heavy and pregnant with the weight of my confession. I could practically feel her scrutinizing me from the other side of the line, evaluating whether my desperation was genuine.

Finally, she spoke, her voice softened by a hint of empathy. “Four years old, hm?”

“Yes.”

“And the other?”

“Not even a year old.”

“That’s not a lot of time.”

“No, it’s not.”

There was a lengthy pause again, and my heart pounded in my chest as I waited for her response. The seconds felt like hours until, finally, she let out a sigh.

“I’d never sleep at night if you killed over from overworking or let some jackass steal your project,” she tutted. “And you’re too stupid to know how to look out for said jackass. You always were.”

I sniffled.

“Quit crying. It’s a waste of resources.” Her response was brisk and businesslike. “I’ll be coming out of retirement for you, Grace. But you need to understand that I won’t waste my time if you’re not fully committed. I’ll go back to sandy beaches without a bit of guilt.”

“I understand,” I replied earnestly, my determination shining through. “Name your price.”

She sighed and went on. I took notes on everything she wanted. As we finalized the details of her return and her living arrangements, a surge of relief washed over me. I had a mentor again, someone to guide me through the complexities of the project and hold me accountable for my commitment. With renewed determination, I hung up the phone and let out a shaky breath.

It felt like a real victory.

With the Winter Moon Festival just around the corner, I allowed myself a moment of celebration. I deserved it, and it didn’t matter if my assistant thought I had lost my mind. Maybe I had. After all the challenges and hurdles I had faced, this felt like the first real test to beating that ticking clock.

I finished work and raced home. I went to the fridge and froze at the sight of the chilling bottle of wine and all the dishes prepared inside. I smiled, thinking of Charles. I pulled the note from one of the containers.

Eat and take care of yourself.

That night, I warmed up a feast for me, Cecil, and Eason. We drank wine, and Cecil had juice, toasting with us. As I sat at the table, surrounded by the warm glow of the candles and the laughter of Cecil and Eason, I couldn’t help but think about Charles. It could have only been more perfect if Charles was here with us, but as I put Cecil to bed, I went to the living room to sit with Eason.

“Tell me what you’ve got.”

He smirked. “A lot of calls to make and a few hunches.”