I looked at my grandmother, who was on the verge of death in the hospital room. My fists were clenched so tightly that my fingernails dug deep into my palms, drawing blood without me even feeling it.For my grandmother, however, I set my dignity aside. In the hospital hallway, in the eyes of the public, I dropped to my knees to ‘propose’ to her again.She smiled contentedly, reached out, lifted my chin, and said with contempt, “That’s more like it, Connor. You should’ve known to play along a long time ago.”Deep down, I knew that she agreed to remarry me not because she still loved me. Instead, it was revenge on me for not humbling myself to beg her to stay back then and for refusing to bow down to her, even when I walked away with nothing from our divorce. But none of that mattered to me. All I knew was that once my grandmother’s condition improved, and once I had gathered enough evidence, I would return every bit of humiliation she had inflicted upon me, tenfold.Just like to
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