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