teen years of my life. He repai

he ch

ed our relation

he person who loved me most in thi

final blow.

a machine beside me. My left ear, the one that had been damaged since I was a child, heard nothi

she was found in time. Her stom

"Is she awake yet?" His tone wa

' s funeral... you didn' t even show up.

tal. I had a patient, Viv

the patient he was always "busy" with. The one whose messages fill

y temple. The beeping of the machine seemed to

s the quiet girl with a difficult home life, the girl he always protected. He taught me how to ride a bike, helped me with my homework, and held me

distant. He was always working late, always tired, always on his phone. The excuses piled up. It was a

to come. "Please, Ethan. I can' t do this alone." My grandma

said, but his eyes were already on his phone,

started to fall, mixing with my tears. I called him, over and over. He didn't answer. Later that night, I saw a post on social media. Vivian, the i

ur empty apartment. I found the bottle of sleeping pills in the

talk. He had come into the room and was sitting by my bed. "Ch

want to see his face. I didn' t

voice still lacking any real emotion. "Vivian

he pain he caused, he was still defending her. That was when I knew. It was

at him. The man I had loved for h

I said, my voice hoa

crossed his mind. "What are you talking about? D

aking up w

k to the hospital." He didn' t argue. He didn' t plead. He just turned and wa