Chapter 49
A L E J A N D R O
Minutes.
Hours.
Days.
Weeks.
How long has it been since I heard the sweet sound of her laughter? The crinkle at the corner of her eyes when she smiles? The smell of her sweet fragrance that whiffed around in the air when she passed by? What about the way her hands fit wholly in mine? The way one touch of her skin set my entire heart on fire? The way she had me wrapped around her finger without even knowing it?
Will I get to feel that warmth of, not only her skin but her presence ever again? Her silhouette itself brought me enough peace to last days and now seeing her still, cold body laying motionless is just a reminder of my biggest failure yet.
I'm losing myself, physically and mentally. I need her to show me where I belong, remind me of who I am, and remind me why the thought of losing her is tearing me apart.
I scoff at myself. Why the fuck would she want me? Why the fuck would she want to be with me after all of this? She'd be happier drifting far away from me and the furthest she can go is to completely leave me behind in this world.
My chest feels tight as the memories flood through my mind. The times she held onto me in the middle of the night because she hated feeling alone. The times she baked me my favorite cookies because I wasn't in a good mood. The times she randomly grabbed me by my hand to dance along to the stripped tune of Dancing After Death in the middle of our living room. Ironic, isn't it?
These little moments, just passing moments are now my most treasured memories. Never had I felt such sorrow, such pain, such regret remembering small memories that seemed like nothing before.
"Mr. Genovese, I suggest you get some rest, or else I may need to put you on an IV drip," my thoughts are interrupted as two people walk into the room. "How long has it been since you have gotten appropriate hours of sleep? I've noticed you haven't gotten more than three hours of sleep per night for the last few weeks," her tone is very disapproving.
"Doctor, I appreciate your concern but I don't think I have the right to a good night's sleep unless she's brought back to me," I say as I watch the nurse change Zara's bandages.
"I understand, Mr. Genovese. I truly do. However, if your health is impacted, who will take care of her once she awakens from her... sleep," the doctor picks her words carefully.
I only give her a short laugh. "Why feed me false expectations? We all know the chances of her waking up are slim to nothing."
"Yet we hold onto the hope that there's still a chance—slim or not," she says gently.
Zara's been in a coma-like state for the last two and a half weeks.
For two and a half weeks, I haven't left this hospital room.
For two and a half weeks, I haven't felt anything but an ache in my chest and the emptiness of my soul.
For two and a half weeks, I forced myself to keep breathing.
For two and a half weeks, I haven't thought of anything but begging to replace my life with hers.
I wasn't big on spirituality, I wasn't big on prayers, and I wasn't big on religion itself. However, for two and a half weeks, I've been on my knees, pleading for anyone to hear my desperate pleas and prayers.
While Zara was bleeding out in my arms, unconscious—or when I thought she had died—Elijah burst through the doors with men at his side.
I thought about it and accepted my death at that very moment. Knowing that Zara took my life the second she left, I didn't have any fight left in me. I didn't want to live on without her, there's nothing else worth fighting for in my life without her in it. I would be a dead man walking.
Elijah didn't attack me, he only stared at Zara's lifeless body in utter shock. He motioned at someone behind him and our family doctor slipped past him to us.
The doctor didn't spare a glance at me and quickly began examining Zara.
"She's dead," I had whispered to her.
But after a lengthy examination, the doctor informed me that Zara may have a slim chance of survival if we're able to take her to the closest hospital.
I felt every nerve in my body escape the exhaustion to sweep Zara into my arms and rush past everyone to deliver her to the ambulance waiting for us outside. She went through an intensive 15-hour surgery for her excessive and deep wounds that were inflicted on her for the week she spent at Philip's.
Ever since then, I've been here, waiting for my love, for my Zara, to open her eyes.
"There's food and a water bottle left on the bedside. Please do hydrate yourself and feed your body or else I'm going to have to remove you from her room," the doctor says it almost as a threat. "She'll need you, Alejandro. Don't mess it up."
At this point, I don't know if she's talking about my health or telling me that I might have a second chance at everything.
Fuck, I don't even deserve a second chance. I just hope and I pray that Zara just wakes up, healthy and aware. That's all. I have no other wishes or wants for myself any longer.
Monsters like me don't deserve second chances because I've already fucked up countless of times. Giving me a chance is like digging yourself a grave, knowing it'll lead to your death.
No.
If Zara awakens, I'll let her be. I'll leave. I'll fucking disappear into thin air if I have to. I'll put a bullet through my own skull if I can't control my possessive feelings.
The doctor leaves after checking up on Zara and updating her charts.
"Alejandro, get some sleep. I'll take over for a bit," Yasmeen's voice comes from the corner of the room.
"How long were you standing there?" I ask without turning around at first. But then reluctantly turned to face her.
After weeks of visiting Zara silently, Yasmeen had finally spoken to me.
"Long enough to notice you look like the undead." She rolls her eyes. "Now get some sleep or else I'll give you a good beating with my flats."
"I can't," I mumble.
"Yes, you can—"
"No, Yasmeen," I begin. "You don't understand. I can't."
She raises an eyebrow and steps closer towards me. This is when I notice the fading bruises and bandages wrapped on various parts of her body. Signs of exhaustion from fighting battles that weren't hers to fight, the sorrow of losing her love, and the guilt of being helpless in saving her closest friend are clear in the way the frail way she's holding herself.
I almost forgot she must've endured triple the trauma compared to Marcus and I. Yet, somehow, she manages to look much more put together than either of us.
"Explain," she says calmly.
I stare at her, not sure if I'll sound insane.
I sigh, looking back at Zara's sleeping figure to avoid eye contact. "I tried, I tried leaving the room but I quite literally can't. My own body won't allow it. It almost feels like my lungs are collapsing, my kidneys are failing, my heart is beating too fast whenever I'm walking further away from her."
I go silent for a moment before continuing, "Almost as if my physical self isn't allowing me to leave her side because it knows I'm responsible for everything. As if leaving her for even a second means that I'll lose her in that very moment. As if—
"—she's your only life source and without her, there won't be you," Yasmeen finishes my sentence.
"Exactly," I nod.
"I guess I can't argue with that, now can I?" She sighs. "You'll quite literally die of a panic attack if you leave this room, I'm assuming."
Yasmeen walks over to look over at Zara. Her expression is pained and she quickly looks away, not being able to take in the rough sight of her best friend.
"I hate you for bringing her into your revoltingly mess of a life," her voice is rough, trying to hold in tears.
"Trust me, I hate myself more for it than you can ever imagine."
"Let me finish," she says. "But I'm also thankful that some part of you did think of saving her before Philip got his hands on her; for giving the matter of her safety enough thought even though it didn't fit into your... odd concept of a life."
Elijah had apparently told her everything. Philip had explained to him in detail everything he would've done to Zara if only he had gotten his hands on her first.
Yasmeen chose not to give details because she was sure I'd set the building on fire if I find out everything. But she let me know that it would've been a thousand times worst than what Zara had to go through with me. I'm not too sure about that but I'm assuming even Elijah deemed it as inhumane enough to have said that Zara was lucky I got to her first.
"Elijah... what made him change his mind?" I ask.
I'm still left in the dark about why he decided to help us last minute.
Yasmeen goes on to explain that Aayan let loose to Elijah that the reason Meredith died was because of a violent altercation incited by Philip's father. Meredith had stumbled upon a conversation Philip's father was having about betraying the Cosa nostra, betraying the omertà, our sacred code of silence. So, she went in for that meeting knowing this information beforehand. Being the headstrong woman she was, she thought she could've resolved the issue herself.
Instead, his father had her silenced but little did he know, I have my ways to uncover truths people can spend centuries hiding. Even though I was only able to uncover half the truth.
Meredith almost made it out, but she was outnumbered by Philip's father's men. Then, they brutally raped and murdered her, disposing of her body in the river nearby.
I remember finding her bloated body being lifted out of the waters. I remember the look of absolute violence plastered on Elijah's face. I remember thinking it may have been my fault she had died that day, only if I stopped her, I would've still had the only woman I had considered as my own family, as my own sister.
Meredith did go in for a business meeting, but with different intentions, because had the knowledge of dangerous information that changed her course of life. Whether I stopped her or not didn't matter because she would've gone anyways. If not then, then another time of day. But she would've gone, for sure.
"It wasn't me, I didn't get her killed," I say, looking down at the floor in disbelief.
Philip's father had truly killed her for his own benefit. He had gotten greedy, too greedy, selling us out to law enforcement for loads of cash. That's all. He killed her out of spite.
It wasn't me.
I didn't get her killed.
"Elijah realized he was exacting his revenge on the wrong party but he realized too late," I say, confirming my own thoughts out loud.
"The worst part is Philip knew his father wasn't a good man, but he continued to cause trouble for you out of spite, out of pure irrational anger," Yasmeen says.
I hear an alarm ringing and Yasmeen quickly pulls out a phone from her pocket. "Oh, shit. It's time for my meds. That doctor lady is scary, she'll have my head if I don't get back to bed."
Yasmeen was just about to leave when I decide to murmur a small thanks to her.
"Alejandro, learn to show your gratitude a bit louder, maybe try to match the volume of your ego next time," she smirks, a teasing edge to her voice.
"I'll page the doctor if your ass is not out of that door in three seconds," I threaten her lightheartedly.
"Bully!" She yells before shutting the door behind her.
I lay my head against Zara's arm, watching the machines forcing her from passing over to the other side.
I hold her cold hand in mine, giving it a small squeeze.
"I'm fucked up, I'm the worst, I don't deserve one fragment of your affections but I'll lose everything if you're not here. Please, don't leave me, my love." I hold her cold hand in mine, giving it a small squeeze. "I'm afraid. The great Alejandro Genovese is afraid of losing you," I chuckle sadly to me.
"I'm afraid of waking up and not having you there. I'm afraid you'll leave me out of pure hatred. I'm afraid of you being terrified of ever thinking of a future with me. I'm afraid you'll see me the way I see myself... but you already think those things already, don't you?" I caress her cheek with my thumb. "But that doesn't matter, none of it does. What I'm most afraid of is having to wake up every morning, knowing you don't exist anymore."
"Please, please, don't leave me alone, my love. I know I'm worth nothing, I'm not worth the ground you stand on, I'm not worth the air you breathe. Fuck, I'd even give my life in exchange for yours if I could. So, please, my beautiful Zara, my love, please, find it in your heart to live," my voice cracks near the end. "Not for me but for yourself, for Yasmeen, for anyone but live."
• • •
Z A R A
A dull pain pinches my stomach as I try to move my body with no success. My eyes are closed shut, refusing to open on demand.
I can hear Alejandro and Yasmeen from time to time, being unable to talk back or reach out. But a part of me wonders if I should just let go...
Is there any point in fighting this? Wanting to live? Do I even want to live anymore? Is it selfish to want to just move on and let my soul pass into the final realm?
Yet... yet a part of me does want to live. I want to wake up and see the smile on Yasmeen's face. I want to wake up and try to live differently, make the most of my time alive, I want to wake up and put a bullet through Elijah's head if Alejandro hasn't done so already.
I still have this pull towards the living, this pulls towards wanting a future, kids, and grandkids. Gosh, I wish I didn't have this lingering regret of being unable to live the life I wanted.
But if I let go... all these worries, regrets, sorrow, they'd just vanish.
I ponder on the thought as I listen in on Yasmeen and Alejandro's conversation.
So, Elijah was stuck in a misunderstanding... but that misunderstanding cost me much more than just my life. If I get my hands on him, he might not make it out in one piece.
I was upset at hearing Yasmeen go, but what I hear next is completely unexpected.
"Please, my beautiful Zara, my love, please, find it in your heart to live. Not for me but for yourself, for Yasmeen, for anyone but live." Alejandro's words string through my ears to my heart.
There's a pressure on my chest, the feeling becoming heavier and heavier as his words settle in. But there's one thing for sure, his words solidified my decision.
I have so much more to see and experience. I'm still so young with so many things that I need to do.
I want to stay.
I want to live.
I use every bit of willpower I have to try to move even just a finger. I pray, and I pray, and I pray.
Let me stay.
Let me live out the rest of my life in as much peace as possible.
That's when I feel it, my finger moved. I slowly start to feel my body parts, gaining control little by little. I was able to make my finger move and gently, I move my hand. I force my eyes to open, slowly and carefully so as to not blind myself.
I squint, my eyes fluttering as it struggles to stay open from the harsh lights making it tough. As my eyes adjust, I look around the room, which is clearly a hospital. I'm hooked up to a few machines and am still bandaged up around my stomach and torso. There's tubes that are shoved up my nose and shoved up my—never mind. I don't want to talk about it.
To my right, in a chair beside my bed, Alejandro lays still, sound asleep. His head facing away from me, as his hand is on top of mine.
I smile at his peaceful sleeping sight, knowing reality will break in when I wake him up. I gently nudge him, gliding my hand up to lay on his hair, caressing it weakly. "Do you want to wake up or should I go back to sleep again?" I ask softly.
He groans at first but when realization dawns on him, he jolts up. "Zara?" He blinks, looking at me with uncertainty about whether he's dreaming or not.
My God, he looks like hell. His hair is a mess, his stubble has almost grown into a beard situation, there are dark shadows under his eyes, his eyes are red, his lips as dry as the desert—the list can go on. I've never seen him look so... unkempt.
"Damn, you look like absolute shit," I comment accidentally.
"You're the one to talk," he slightly teases. "I feel like absolute shit," he mumbles. "You're really here, you're conscious."
"I couldn't really leave you behind to enjoy life without me, now can I? You need some of my chaos to not let you sleep at night," I tease him as I run my fingers through his hair.
He's unusually quiet, I thought he'd have more of a reaction to seeing me conscious again. He grabs my hand—the one that was in his hair—and kisses it. He kisses it again, and again, and again until I pull away to rest it on his cheek.
His emotions are on overload and he has no clue how to handle it because he never had to handle such emotions. He looks like he's close to just blow up into pieces.
"Hey," I caress his cheek with my thumb. "I'm here, I'm breathing. I don't know if I'm okay but I'm alive."
I can see his hands tensing up, desperate to touch me, kiss me, coddle me but my fragile state won't allow it. This might be the first time I've ever seen him control his rough urges so well.
"I'll call the doctor," he quickly says.
"Wait," I say and he pauses. "The baby..."
I already knew the answer, I can feel the emptiness in my body. I can feel devoid of another soul that used to call me home. I prepared for this before I gained consciousness, I knew it already but...
Alejandro looks away, his hand slipping out of mine in pure guilt. But I reach out and grab him anyways, he gives my shaky hand a squeeze of reassurance but I know it's no good. Our little soul, it's gone.
"I'm sorry," he says for the first time in his life. "I'm so sorry, Zara."
The moment those words leave his mouth is what becomes my undoing. Everything I've been holding in unfolds with a stormy fury. My bones shake from sorrow, my heart clenches from despair, and my mind shuts down from the overload of every negative feeling washing ashore. My tears stream forth with ferocity, blurring my vision indefinitely.
He's sorry but our little creation is gone. He's sorry but I've lost a part of myself. He's sorry but I'm messed up beyond repair. He's sorry but... he's all I have left.
I wrap my arms around Alejandro's waist, sobbing quieter than before while he stands beside me, stroking my hair for comfort.
"After this, after you're all healed, I'll leave your life for good," the strain in his voice is clear. "You'll never have to see me again, never have to worry about me lurking, never have to worry about me causing you any more trouble. I promise you, even the shadow of my life will never touch you again."
"Don't make stupid promises," I sniffle. "And don't make promises you can't keep."
"Zara, I'm serious." He steps away from me, letting my arms fall back on the bed. "I'll make sure you live comfortably somewhere far away from me. Pick a country, a city, any place, any home, and it's yours."
"Any place? You promise?"
"I promise," he says softly but his eyes are telling a different story.
"A home... my home will be wherever you'll be, Alejandro. You're my home, now and forever," my words make him still, as still as a rock. Even his breathing seems to have stopped. "Till death do us apart, remember?"
"Zara, you can't be serious," it's more shock than disapproval.
"You don't want me anymore? Am I too damaged? Too different? Too broken?" Edge seeping through in my tone.
"Don't be fucking stupid, you know that's not it!" He raises his voice slightly.
"Then, why are you throwing me away after you did everything in your power to make me so dependent on you that I can't imagine being with anyone else?" I raise my voice higher. "Why did you make me experience so many fucked up things that no one else besides you would understand? I have no one to go back to, Alejandro! No one!"
"Zara—"
"No one will understand me, no one will be able to share my pain with me, no one else can spend the rest of their lives with someone as fucked up as me beside you."
"You think I don't want to spend every waking moment.
No one will understand me, no one will be able to share my pain with me, no one else can spend the rest of their lives with someone as fucked up as me beside you."
"You think I don't want to spend every waking moment with you? Fuck, Zara, you're literally the bloody air that I breathe and I'd fall apart without you," he runs his hand through his hair in frustration. "But you deserve normality, you deserve stability, you deserve someone gentler, you deserve better. I can't give you that, I can never give you that."
"Normality? Stability? Gentleness?" I scoff. "You're right, you're absolutely right. But do you think after everything I went through, I'll ever be able to accept such things? No. Never. This burden... this is the one thing I can't share with anyone else but you. I'll only be a burden to someone else if I bring the current me to them."
I thought about living alone but I know I would've lost my damn mind. I wouldn't last a week in the mental state that I'm in. I thought about living with Yasmeen but she still has her own life to live, her own traumas to work through, I'd definitely be a burden. But a part of me knows I'm not choosing Alejandro because of convenience. I'm choosing him because I'm beyond messed up and I crave him, I hate him, and I love him.
"God, Zara, this is so fucked up. We're so fucked up," he sighs.
I raise a brow. "And who's fault is that?"
"Zara, if you choose this—choose me—then just know that I'll never let you go. You'll always be mine," his eyes burning with dangerous passion. "Always."
"I'm sure I never belonged to anyone else in the first place, which is also your fault," I mumble, looking away from the heat in his gaze that lit my heart on fire.
"I'm serious, my love. No matter how challenging this becomes for us in the future, I won't let you slip out of my grasp not until—"
"—I my heart bleed for you?" I whisper, remembering what I told.
He shakes his head, smiling with a hint of regret. "No, never again. If anyone has to bleed to death, it'd be me next."
"That's fair," I say. "However, I would prefer that you don't do anything reckless like that. I wouldn't want the main source of my comfortable living to disappear."
"Don't worry, I'd leave behind everything for you to live the rest of your life comfortably," his words are in no playful matter, unlike mine. "It's the least I can do for you after everything I put you through."
I frown. "Now I'm the one who's serious, Alejandro. We mutually chose to make this work, you will not purposefully do stupid shit that puts your life at risk."
There's silence hanging between us as we wait for the doctor. One question is still up in the air and in the tip of my tongue, can he love me?
"I can... try to love you," Alejandro's words take me by surprise.
I blink, "Did I say that out loud?"
"Say what?" He looks at me in confusion.
"Nothing," I dismiss it. "I will take any genuine effort into consideration. It's okay to take things nice and slow, I'm way past the point of expecting things. Trying is good, trying is great."
"No, Zara. You have to understand, I do love you but I don't know how to love you," his words are slow, quiet.
I take his hand to place it on my cheek, the warmth of his hand instantly bringing me comfort. "I know, my Alejandro, I know," I sigh. "And that's what scares me
sometimes. It terrifies me that we love each other yet manage to destroy one another trying to show our love. But we'll never know if we'll survive this love unless we give it a fair shot."
Neither of us is good for each other, yet neither of us can live without each other. We bring out each other's worst, yet we are each other's best hope. We hold daggers at each other's throats, yet we would burn the world down for the other.
We're like regulated destruction. Organized chaos. But, I assume, that's what makes us work in the most disorderly of ways. There's no one else who would be able to handle us as we are except for us.
Some stories have happy endings, and some stories only have endings. Alejandro and I? We're somewhere in between the prior and the latter. Somewhere in between the bitter and the sweet.
I guess that makes our end bittersweet.
- - -
- author note -
• Oof, that was an exhausting journey. Anyways, goodbye!
• Just kidding! I have three-ish more chapters still planned and a little extra something! So, hang on for a little while longer!
• All of you can also rest easy knowing that Zara's alive and I didn't kill her off for your mental health's sake. (눈‸눈) But it's still bittersweet tho LMAO!
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