You Looked Down on Me Once, Now You Look Up. novel Chapter 492

“Let’s go home.”

The two walked away, arms around each other.

Sara and Patricia slipped out of the hospital room just in time to catch a glimpse.

“Wait, was that your Uncle Emerson? And that definitely wasn’t Ruby with him!” It took a second for Sara to process what she’d seen. “No way. Is he cheating? And bold enough to bring her here?”

Patricia lowered her phone, her face calm, not a flicker of surprise.

Sara stared at her, dumbfounded. “Aunt Patricia, you already knew?”

Patricia just thought, If only you knew how much I know.

But some things weren’t meant to be shared. Secrets that crossed the line—she’d keep those locked away.

Thinking about them made her head ache all over again.

Jackson. And his mother—the one who’d abandoned him over twenty years ago.

Was there guilt? Sure, but not nearly enough.

That afternoon, Patricia had gone to see Cecilia. As soon as she mentioned Jackson’s name, Cecilia started crying. For a split second, Patricia thought maybe there was still some lingering bond between mother and son.

But then Cecilia wiped her tears, managed a smile, and said, “Honestly, I never thought he’d still be alive.”

She sounded so matter-of-fact, like she’d been expecting this for years.

Aiden couldn’t take it and started to rise, ready to argue.

Patricia gently pressed her hand to his, keeping him in his seat.

“Why did you think he wouldn’t be?” Patricia asked quietly.

Cecilia’s gaze drifted off, fixed on the sky outside. She looked like she wanted to explain, but the words just wouldn’t come.

Patricia waited, and waited, until finally Cecilia sighed. “Why dig so deep? He’s fine, I’m fine. We’re both living our lives, aren’t we?”

“He must be almost thirty now, right? Even if I tried, I can’t give him the mother’s love he missed as a kid. I’m a grandmother now. Where am I supposed to find the energy to love him?”

The conversation hit a dead end, leaving Patricia with a hollow ache.

That last sentence—I’m a grandmother now. Where am I supposed to find the energy to love him?—felt like a shard of glass stuck in Patricia’s heart.

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