A few days had passed since then. Kyra’s condition showed significant improvent. With no worries or emotional burdens weighing her down, her appetite naturally returned and she started sleeping better, especially with the nutritious als Jane regularly brought for her.
On the fifth day, Kyra was already seen strolling around the hospital garden, with several bandages having been removed. However, the wound on her forehead remained a major concern, as did the fracture in her shinbone. Because of this, she continued to use a wheelchair when moving around to avoid overstraining her legs.
Kyra tilted her head back. With her eyes closed, she felt the cool refreshing breeze on her face. A smile blossod on her lips which was now rosier than the past few days.
It had been a long ti since Kyra had stepped outside. For the first four days, she could only stare out the window of her VIP room, confined to her bed. From her lying position, the sky was all she could see.
Now, with the sun blazing overhead, Kyra refused to leave her spot on the park bench. She savored the warmth of the sunlight, a stark contrast to her days indoors. Beside her sat a cup of warm tea and a plate of cookies, while a notebook rested on her lap. The A4 pages were filled with neat rows of sentences, and on the left, a series of tabbed docunts marked the Chapters of her book.
Kyra opened her eyes and shifted her attention back to her notebook screen. The story opened with a rather unsettling continuation, as if there was no hope left for Marlene, the female protagonist.
No matter how much she sacrificed or how many tis she was shattered to pieces and endured the agonizing process of regeneration, Charles remained indifferent. He watched her suffering from the sidelines, distant and detached.
To Charles, Marlene was nothing more than an obligation. Resigned to this belief, she began to withdraw from his life. But everything changed when an accident forced their paths to cross again.
In a life-threatening mont, Charles was nearly killed by the antagonist. Marlene, without hesitation, took the blow ant for him. In that instant, her only thought was how foolish she was—sacrificing herself for soone who barely acknowledged her existence. She had convinced herself that her heart had hardened, but the truth was undeniable: she had never stopped caring.
Marlene had never truly moved on. Her retreat had been an illusion—a futile attempt to escape her feelings and a reflection of her own self-loathing for being unable to stop loving him. Like a moth drawn to a fla, she remained vulnerable to Charles. No wonder he found her pathetic.
As Marlene lay on the cold floor, her body drenched in blood, her gaze drifted to Charles, who was busy comforting another woman. Ironic, wasn’t it? She was the one injured, yet soone else received his care. In the end, he would always choose anyone but her. And yet, even as her life ebbed away, Marlene’s thoughts remained fixed on him.
He didn’t choose her—he never did. A faint, bittersweet smile touched Marlene’s lips as she closed her eyes, quietly surrendering to defeat. But in that mont, surrounded by pitch-black darkness devoid of life, she felt sothing achingly familiar.
It began as a sharp prick, no more than a needle’s touch, but the pain escalated in a heartbeat, striking her like a storm without rcy. Waves of agony crashed through her, wrenching a grimace from her bloodied face. Her screams for release echoed into the void, unanswered, swallowed by the oppressive silence. She was trapped, ensnared in an abyss so consuming it felt like she’d been flung into the depths of hell.
What was her cri? Marlene wondered bitterly. Was loving him such a grievous sin that it warranted punishnt this cruel?
She couldn’t accept it—she absolutely couldn’t! If, in the end, she was the one who had to endure everything without gaining anything in return, wouldn’t it have been better to let her love be buried in death?
At least, if that happened, she wouldn’t have to suffer through this relentless feeling of inadequacy. Because in the end, it wasn’t that she wasn’t enough; it was simply that the man was gone.
On the other hand, she also wouldn’t have had to witness the painfully cruel scene in the final monts before her death.
If that were the case, wouldn’t it an she hadn’t completely lost?
Dark thoughts began to consu her in this abyss, as if this truly were hell and demons were taunting her, whispering the temptation of revenge rather than redemption.
Scoffing at herself, Marlene asked, What could I possibly do? Should I even bother clawing my way out of this pit of death?
Revenge was a tantalizing temptation, but the exhaustion of fighting far outweighed it. In the end, she was too tired to keep struggling. There was a peculiar peace in this silent darkness. Even though the pain pierced through her, she knew it would eventually end.
After all, nothing lasts forever.
Marlene closed her eyes, surrendering to the pull of the endless darkness. Yet, just before she was entirely consud, a single point of light pierced the silence. Slowly, that light grew, shattering the surrounding shadows.
Still weak, Marlene opened her eyes. Her mind couldn’t fully process the situation around her yet, but the first thing she noticed was the absence of the agonizing pain that had tornted her. Though frail, her body felt much better—remarkably similar to how she felt after completing a regeneration. Realizing this, Marlene’s eyes widened as she scanned her surroundings.
Then, Marlene saw sothing that shook her to the core. Charles was asleep beside her bed, his hand wrapped in thick winter gloves clasped around hers.
Marlene quickly realized that she hadn’t truly died because of him. Charles had touched her first, before the god of death could claim her soul. His touch had triggered her curse, allowing her to regenerate and return to life.
Why? Haven’t you hurt enough? A tear slipped from her eye.
Charles, who had been dozing, stirred at the subtle movent of Marlene’s fingers. His gaze locked with hers, and his entire body froze. No words ca as a whirlwind of emotions overwheld him, especially when he saw the tear streaking down her cheek.
Charles pressed his lips together. With an awkward smile, he asked, "How are you feeling now?"
****
"How are you feeling today?"
A gentle voice ca from behind Kyra, accompanied by a tender caress on her cheek and a soft kiss on the top of her head. Kyra’s lips curled into a sweet smile. Without turning around, she already knew who the voice and touch belonged to.
Almost every day, Jas would visit her. Sotis, he ca with Creighton and Jane, but most of the ti, he ca alone. When she thought about it, it was kind of amusing that Jas now played two roles in her life—one as her uncle and the other as her boyfriend.
Maybe she was already led astray because she found their secret relationship oddly thrilling. There was a certain tension and exhilarating sensation to it.
"Much better. At least I’m not stuck in that room anymore, and I’m allowed to shower now!" Kyra exclaid, her laughter spilling out.
Jas chuckled softly as he took a seat beside her. "Then why are you out here alone? Where’s the nurse on duty?"
"I told her to leave for a bit, and I’ll call her when I’m ready to go back to the room," Kyra replied as she poured tea from a thermos. Seeing this, Jas quickly took over and poured the tea for her.
Kyra’s heart blood again, but she tried her best to remain composed. Sipping the warm tea in her hands, she continued reviewing her writing.
"Is it going well?"
Kyra looked up and caught the man beside her staring at her notebook screen. Truly, no one could predict the future. She never imagined that Jas himself would be the one encouraging her to continue this story and publish it.
Pursing her lips, Kyra asked, "Are you sure about doing it this way?"
Jas glanced at her briefly, paused, then said, "Yes, it’s better this way. Grandpa is a strict and traditional man. I’m not sure he’d react well to this relationship."
Yes, Jas had discussed it with Kyra beforehand. Even though he already knew Creighton’s likely reaction, Jas spun the narrative into a re prediction. Kyra accepted it well.
"But it’s a different story once everything has already happened, isn’t it? Besides, I promised to fix everything for you. Consider this as hitting two birds with one stone. I will return your glory back to you and we get to be together."
Kyra fell silent. This approach was extre, but she understood just how unyielding Creighton could be. Under his guidance, Kyra had co to know the old man’s personality quite well.
It was entirely plausible that Creighton would oppose them no matter what explanation they gave. So, Jas had devised the best way to leave his grandfather no room to object. The only solution was this.
This book would be the catalyst for their relationship.
Jas pulled Kyra into his embrace. Surprised, Kyra instinctively tried to pull away, but Jas held her firmly.
"It’s okay. People will just think it’s a family hug," Jas whispered playfully. Kyra chuckled softly and eventually relaxed, leaning into him.
However, the intimate mont was quickly interrupted by an emotionless voice.
"Excuse , President, it’s ti to leave, or you’ll be late for your afternoon eting."
Kyra quickly released herself from Jas’s arms and turned toward the voice. Seeing Killian standing professionally behind the bench, she sighed softly before giving a small nod to her boyfriend’s trusted secretary.
What surprised Kyra, however, was Killian’s response. Instead of his usual cold deanor, he smiled and addressed her warmly, "Miss Kyra, I hope you’re doing well today."
A bit startled, Kyra replied awkwardly, "Ah, yes, thank you."
"Well then, I’m off. See you tonight, my sweet niece!" Jas teased, pinching Kyra’s cheek playfully. Kyra rolled her eyes at the endearing nickna.
"See you later, dearest uncle!" she retorted cheekily, earning a laugh from Jas.
The two parted ways harmoniously, hiding their relationship perfectly behind the guise of family ties. But unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes was watching the entire scene, observing them with a cold smile.
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