As I reached the door, I heard the old Alpha’s helpless and heartbroken scolding.
“Give up hope.”
“All the Blackwood family wealth and the Luna’s status and power can’t make her turn back.”
“Garrett, you’ve made too deep a mistake.”
His voice broke on the last words.
Then came the sharp sound of alarms.
The flat line on the monitor told the story.
This old man who had worked himself to exhaustion his entire life finally ended his life in regret.
Nurses rushed in. Doctors tried CPR. But we all knew it was over.
I asked the doctor to send a bouquet of flowers for the old Alpha.
White lilies. A symbol of departed souls finding peace.
This would completely settle all debts between me and the Blackwood family.
When I reached the intersection, Garrett chased after me again.
His face was swollen from crying. His usually perfect appearance was disheveled.
On the bustling roadside, he knelt down before me.
Passersby stopped and stared. Phones came out. Pictures were taken.
“Aria, Grandfather is dead. You’re all I have left.”
His voice was raw, desperate.
“I know I was wrong. I’m willing to repent. What do I have to do for you to come back to me?”
“Tell me! Anything! I’ll do anything!”
I could tell this repentance and apology came from his heart.
For the first time, real fear showed in his eyes. Fear of being truly alone.
But I had heard such promises too many times over the past ten years.
I watched the children running past on the street.
2/3
I watched the grandmother wiping sweat from a child’s face.
Normal families. Happy families. Families that would never know this kind of pain.
“Do you remember our son’s name?” I asked quietly.
Garrett’s mouth opened and closed. No sound came out.
“We never gave him one,” I continued. “He died before we could name him.”
“Do you remember my mother’s favorite flower?”
Again, silence.
“Sunflowers. She grew them in our little garden when I was small.”
After a long silence, I slowly spoke.
“Unless… time could flow backward, and the dead could be brought back to life.”
“Unless my mother could hold her grandchild. Unless I could undo seven years of humiliation.”
“Unless you could become the man I thought you were.”
Garrett’s face went white.
Knowing he was powerless, Garrett broke down in tears.
Like a spoiled child, trying to use tears to get what he wanted.
But I was no longer the woman who would comfort him when he cried.
I didn’t want to pay attention.
Instead, amid his sorrowful crying, I casually hailed a taxi.
“Wait!” he screamed, scrambling to his feet. “Wait! I can change! I can be better!”
The taxi door closed between us.
The car carried me toward the rising sun.
Behind me, Garrett pounded on the rear window until the car turned the corner.
Without hesitation, and without looking back.
