Chapter 26

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Alex stood staring at Kate through the half-opened door. His heart lurched, seeing how pale she still looked. The color of her skin almost looked equivalent to the bandage around her head and the sheets that were pulled up to her chest. She was skinny, he noticed, too skinny. Her cheeks had sunk in slightly, and her eyes held exhaustion. 

As his mother talked to Kate, he stood there watching, listening, and hoping against all hopes. He watched her with longing, and he watched her with regret. At that moment, he wished nothing more than to have her locked in his embrace and never let go. But he knew it was not that easy. It would never be easy.

When Tamara uttered the word God, Alex had to bite the inside of his cheek. He mentally shook his head at that. 

"But I'm not God. I'm just... Kate."

His breath got caught in his throat hearing her. She was just Kate, and she was his world. 

A moment passed, and he stiffened as her eyes met his. He didn't dare release the breath from his lungs when her eyes widened seeing him. 

Saying something softly to Kate and patting her hand, Tamara turned around to leave, and while walking past him, she looked at him briefly. It was just a vacant, gloomy look. The sense of melancholy was strong.

Kate had looked away when he walked in gingerly, taking languid steps. He knew that even though she was staring up at the ceiling only, she was still very much aware of him. He could tell it — maybe because of the way her shoulders got rigid, or maybe because of the way her hands curled around a fistful of the bed sheet. 

"K... Kate?" He stuttered in fear - in that little bit of hope that was still alive inside him. The hope to have her forgiveness, the hope to once again hold his world in his arms. 

But then, that last bit of his hope got diminished.

Feeling greedy and overwhelmed with the urge to touch her — at least for a little bit, his finger reached out towards her cheek. But sucking in a sudden breath, Kate turned her face to the other side as if the mere sight of him perturbed her — as if the mere touch of his would burn her. And he realized with torment engulfing his soul that there was nothing surprising there that she felt so repulsive of him. He had said and had done enough to bring her where she stood now, so far away from him.

Was there any way to unsay all he had said?

Was there any way to undo what he had done?

He withdrew his hand and shoved it into his hair. A lone tear dropped down his one eye.

"Kate," he croaked, wishing against all odds that things could be rectified somehow. "I'm... so sorry—"

"Please, leave," Kate cut in, breathing heavily. Her face was still moved away from him, and her voice was almost inaudible, as though it was a carefully left-out sigh. 

His gut twisted. 

He dropped down to the stool and held her hand with both of his, like a dying man clinging onto what was his lifeline. "Kate, please."

Her hand wriggled in his hands, weakly attempting to get out of his hold. And then she slackened suddenly. Her eyes blinked rapidly with tears that she did not shed. She still did not look at him. She still was rigid of his presence. "I can't," she said, her voice holding a panicked urgency as she spoke this time. "You need to understand that I can't. Please, leave."

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