Gilbert noticed my state, his anger momentarily giving way to concern. He took a hesitant step toward me.
“What’s wrong with you?” he demanded, his tone hard but laced with unease.
I couldn’t answer. The pain was unbearable, stealing my breath and leaving me unable to speak.
Irene noticed that Gilbert’s gaze lingered on me, and panic flickered across her face. She quickly clutched her injured arm, her voice trembling with false selflessness.
“Gilbert, if Amelia doesn’t want to apologize, it’s okay. I’m fine, really... but my arm hurts a little.”
Gilbert hesitated for only a moment before turning fully toward her. Without so much as a glance back at me, he scooped her up in his arms.
“I’ll take you to the hospital,” he said, his tone gentle yet decisive.
And just like that, he walked out. No hesitation, no second thought, no trace of the man I once knew.
The sharp, unrelenting pain in my stomach blurred my vision, and I watched helplessly as the door closed behind them.
“Gilbert,” I whispered hoarsely, “I can’t love you anymore. I don’t want to.”
As the words left my lips, a coppery taste flooded my mouth. Blood surged up my throat, and darkness consumed me.
