Shattered by the Alpha Stronger Than Ever novel Chapter 112

Chapter98

“Keith, you’re burning up,” my sister exclaimed with panic as she rushed to my side. She slipped my arm over her shoulder, offering me support as I swayed unsteadily. “Let’s get you to bed, you’ve overworked yourself,” she said worriedly, helping me to my bed. As if her words had triggered a response, my body suddenly felt heavier, my limbs like dumbbells dragging me down. My head, too, seemed to have become a burden. I leaned into my sister’s support, grateful for her help.

As we passed by the room I had once envisioned as a nursery, a space that would be connected to our room, a fresh stab hits me. The pain was like a knife twisting in my gut, and I couldn’t help but let out a pained whimper. My sister’s arms tightened around me as she helped me to bed, her eyes welling up with tears.

“Oh, Keith,” she sighed, her voice cracking with emotion. I felt myself crumbling, collapsing into her arms as she held me close. In that moment, she reminded me of our mom, and the comforting familiarity of our childhood home. It was as if a part of that carefree, Innocent world still existed, untouched by the cruelties of life and the haunting realities that I no longer has strength to face.

“My…my child, my…our baby, gone, Maggi,” I sobbed, the words barely sensible as they tumbled out of my trembling lips. My body shook violently, my head spinning with the overwhelming griet. “Ka–Karissa wouldn’t lo–look at me,” I stammered brokenly.

ASISI

slowly woke up, I was met with the gentle concern etched on my sister’s face. I had no recollection of fainting, but the exhaustion, fever, and tears must have finally taken their toll. My sister’s voice was soft and soothing as she filled me in on what I had missed.

“The doctor said you need to take it easy and focus on eating well,” she explained, her brow furrowed with worry. “You’ve lost a lot of weight in just a few weeks, and it’s weakening your body. I felt a pang of realization, knowing that my emotional turmoil had taken a physical toll on me. An IV was attached to my arm for overnight as I laid back helplessly.

The rest of the day was a blur of drowsiness and despair. My sister’s care and concern were a constant presence, as she coaxed and warned me to eat and drink, despite my lack of appetite. But my mind was elsewhere, occupied by the ache to hear from Karissa, to know that she was okay. I knew it was a luxury I no longer deserved, but the longing persisted.

I sent a text to Dexter, and his response relieved me- Karissa would be discharged tomorrow morning. I made a silent vow to myself to be strong enough to stand and visit her, even if it killed me. The thought that she might not want to see me again was scary. It felt like the rope of guilt and shame that I had tied around my own neck was tightening its noose, slowly strangling me.

I stepped into the hospital room, my heart racing, body internally shaking. I was just in time, it seemed, as Karissa was already dressed and ready to be discharged. She was leaving, and she was leaving with him- the man whose arms I had so callously thrown her into, and he was prepared to catch her. It was a painful actuality that he was the one who held her now, who seemed to hold her better than I ever had. The thought cut deep, and I felt my heart twist with anguish as I watched them preparing to leave.

I forced myself to blink back the tears that threatened to spill over, and instead, I held out the handmade hamper I had brought for Karissa. I had carefully curated the contents, ensuring that everything was healthy and safe for her. She took the hamper from me, her eyes barely meeting mine as she set it aside. I let my gaze linger on her, drinking in the sight of her, wondering if this was truly the last time we would meet. The thought was almost too much to bear, and I felt my heart heavy with sorrow as I struggled to come to terms with the reality of our situation.

She wore a maroon dress; loose and flowing to just above her knees, seemed to envelop her fragile form. Yet, despite the tiredness, her bright blonde curls, neatly braided and cascading down her back was magnificent. Her beauty was undeniable.

“Karissa–1-1,” I stood there, frozen, as I struggled to find the words to speak to her. My mind was a jumble of emotions, regret, and sorrow, but my voice was caught in my throat. I felt like I was drowning in my own guilt, unable to express the depth of my remorse. What could I possibly say to the woman I had so callously hurt and taken for granted? That I was sorry? That I loved her? That I wished I could turn back time and do things differently? The words seemed hollow, insufficient, and I was afraid that they would only cause her more pain. So I stood there, silent, my eyes locked on hers, hoping that she could see the depth of my regret, even if I couldn’t find the words to express It.

“If you want to explain the text, please don’t,” Karissa said, her voice polite but distant. “It’s not my business anymore, what you do.” Her words cut through me, her polite tone stinging, the anger and passion I had grown accustomed to. It was as if she was speaking to a stranger, a distant acquaintance, rather than the person who had once been so intimately entwined with her life. I felt a pang of sadness, as I realized that her anger, her fire, was gone. It had been an another addition to my regrets, but it had meant that she still cared, that she still felt something for me. But now, it seemed, even that was gone. Chapters