ALTERNATIVE ENDING

this is the (more or less) tragic ending I originally had in mind before changing it due to popular demand! Enjoy (or sob idk 💀

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A L E J A N D R O

Regrets.

Something I never expected to feel.

I watched the dark blood seep through her clothes staining them the color of death. Her eyes slowly draining any little life it had left as she begged for my mercy. She begged me to put an end to her misery, begged me to drive my knife through her chest. She did once tell me her favorite flowers were white roses but here I stained them red, disappointing her one last time before she runs away from me.

Regrets.

More regrets.

But now here I am, dressed in black standing in front of the only person I gave a shit about.

"It would be appalling to ask for your forgiveness now, wouldn't it, Zara?" I grip the flowers in my hand. "Say, what do you think about my suit?" I stand back to give her a full view of it. "Does seeing me dressed like this still make you smile?"

Silence.

I smooth down the wrinkle on my suit as I take a seat next to Zara. "I have always loved you. Maybe since the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew I wanted everything to do with you, though you deserved nothing to do with me," I sigh. "I wish I had told you just how much you meant before you decided to leave me. But it's too late now, I can't stop you from leaving me, there's nothing I can say or do to stop you."

Silence.

I inch closer to her, reaching over to give her her favorite flowers, white roses. I remember I filled Yasmeen's car trunk full of it back in high school because Zara only ever mentioned once her love for them.

But it almost seems like by touching these pure white roses, I tainted them red with blood. Nothing escapes my destructive touch, nothing and no one.

I wish she would've noticed the way I looked at her with such admiration and awe, with so much jealousy and envy. She was everything I can never be. I was the boy who never cared, I was cold, calculated, and cruel. She was the girl who cared about everything, she was warm, naive, and sweet. Yet, somewhere along the way, I couldn't stop looking out for her. I did it in secret, discretely making sure she was safe without letting her notice. She's the one thing I was unsuccessful with. She's the girl I unsuccessfully ignored and unsuccessfully protected.

Somehow, everybody looked right through my facade, everybody knew how fiercely I tried to shield her from my world. Everybody saw it, except her. Of course, there's no one to blame but me. The more I tried to act distant and cruel, the more I craved her until it drove me mad. Her eyes once held the answer to every question I asked and now, my questions only grow with her no longer to look at me to make them disappear.

There was no love truer than the one she had for me. But I refused to accept it, I refused the peace she offered me, I refused the life she was giving me. I didn't deserve any of it, I didn't deserve any of the comforts she tried giving me. But most importantly, I didn't understand any of it. I couldn't grasp the meaning of love, I didn't understand the difference between love, obsession and possession. And to be fair, I don't think I'll truly ever understand without her with me. If I had only treasured her sooner, if I had only realized the worth of love sooner, she'd be in my arms instead of gone far away.

I have nothing left. No one left. My life will go back to being what it used to be before Zara, except it won't.

There is no more Zara to wake me up in the morning with the light smell of coffee or with a passionate kiss that led us elsewhere. There's no Zara staying up late nights waiting for me to come home so she can scold me for coming back late or making sure I have my dinner.

There's no more Zara to nag me so I'm free to do as I please... but is this freedom or loneliness?

Elijah had handed me a letter months ago. He had said that Zara wrote it in case she didn't make it out alive. I didn't have the balls to read it but today, I've decided I've waited long enough.

"I'm going to read this now, Zara," I announce aloud. "Should I read it out loud? Did you write anything embarrassing?" I tease her before I unfold the page and start reading.

My dear Alejandro, my beautiful husband, my tragic fate,

I don't even know if this letter will reach you, but it doesn't hurt to try. It seems like I might not make it out of here alive, which wouldn't have been a bad idea if I hadn't decided I want to live. But of course, that's not a decision I can make.

Once I pass on, I hope you don't intend on forgetting about me. I would appreciate it if you can keep my memory alive, I'm afraid of being forgotten too quickly. Is that a selfish request? Perhaps. But I don't care, you fucked me up and I deserve at least this.

People say it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I think that's complete bullshit because look at where it got me, at death's door with a broken heart. I never really found out if you truly loved me, which sucks but I hope you did. I hope you did love me in your own dark, twisted way.

Loving you was a huge sacrifice, I gave you enormous power over me. I gave you a button that would destroy me if you pressed it and you did exactly that, you pressed it multiple times until I no longer was me.

But regardless of everything you did to me, I still love you. I shouldn't, but I do. By the way, if I survive this, throw me in a mental asylum, I beg you because I shouldn't love you after everything but here I am, about to confess how much I love you.

Back to the point, I do love you, more than I should. I love the way you kiss me, I love the feel of your lips on my neck, I love your hands in my hair, I love the warmth of your body, I love the way you say my name.

But I also love the random things I've observed. I love the way you scrunch your nose when you're upset. I love the way your eyes light up when you see me, I love the way you sneeze like a girl (this is my second favourite thing about you, probably), and I love the way you won't have dinner before you had a taste of me (my first favourite thing!).

It's getting colder here the more days I go without seeing you, it's like my body depends on you for heat. My soul would feel so much warmth if I got to see your smile one last time before I go.

When I fell for you, I thought I found my soulmate, it was like a fantasy but I guess that's why they call it a fantasy, it's fiction, nothing more.

The thing is that I'm so fucked up that I'll choose you over and over again. It's almost like you have me wrapped around your finger with an invisible thread.

I didn't deserve any of the shit you put me through, I don't deserve to die such a sad, painful death. I deserved love, I deserved happiness, I deserved the world but apparently, my wishes were all unrealistic.

There's a saying that you'll never know the importance of someone until they become a distant, unattainable memory. I hope my importance really hits you after I'm gone, my tragic prince.

I'm so sorry we ended up like this. I wish we met under different circumstances (or never met at all) because I know we would've been inseparable. We should've been so in love, so undefeatable, so perfect but we were the exact opposite.

I have to understand and come to terms with that our story doesn't have a happy ending. It never was supposed to have one. Our unfortunate ending was written in stone the moment we laid eyes on each other. And this is something I've come to accept as I finish this letter.

There's so much more I want to say to you, so many complaints, so many memories, but I don't have time.

Time...

Do you think if we had more time, we could've changed us? Do you think we could've been happy? Do you think we could've been undefeated?

Anyways, I'm rambling on again. Take care and goodbye, Alejandro. I hope, for our own good, we never meet again.

I love you.

Your Love,

Zara

As the words of her letter sinks in, my entire body feels numb. I've done it, I've lost the only person I would've burned down the world for. I lost my heart, my soul, whole being. I let her slip through my very own fingers.

I've realized the most tragic thing of all: Zara and I were made just for each other, but we weren't made to last.

And that was it. The end of her pain, which is the beginning of the eternal cycle of mine.

"Please, return to me, my love," I whisper, my voice unable to hold a tone. "Come home," I kiss her under the cloudy skies. However, she was just a name on a gravestone and I am just a man who lost his only reason to breathe.

• • •

M A R C U S

How long has it been since I've seen her bright smile? How long has it been since I heard the sound of her bubbly laugh? I thought I'd get over her, I thought I'd be fine. But I'm not fine, I haven't been fucking fine in almost two years.

My heart aches for her, it craves her day and night. Just one more look at her may satisfy me, just one more touch may stop the cravings but I know nothing will quench my thirst for her until she is forever mine. However, I may be too late. I had two years to go back to her, I had two whole years to convince her to take me back but I chose to be a coward.

"I'm going," I say with purpose.

"It's been two years, Marcus," Alejandro shakes his head in disappointment.

"Do you even know where she is? What she's doing? Whether she's already married with a child?" Charlotte asks as she organizes a couple of paper as on Alejandro's desk.

"It doesn't matter. I have to see her, I have to speak to her... just once. We left things unresolved and its been driving me insane for two whole years."

"You should've gone after her the second she left after Zara's funeral. She needed you the most at that moment yet you didn't reach out," Alejandro's comment stings.

"Look, will you help me or not?" I say. "I'm going either way."

Alejandro sighs and pulls out his phone, typing away. Seconds later, my phone dings. I pull it out to see an address.

"This is Yasmeen's current home address," he gestures at my phone. "From my knowledge, she hasn't moved away but there's a possibility she could've because I haven't checked in on her in almost a year."

"You kept in touch?"

He shakes his head. "No, but I kept an eye on her to make sure she was safe and that no one was causing her problems."

I nod and was about to leave when Alejandro says, "I hope you're luck's better than mine."

• • •

The air is chilly as I step out of the airport. I catch a taxi straight to the address Alejandro had texted me My chest feels tight, my breathing uneven. I'm completely unnerved, I'm nervous out of my mind. What if she doesn't want to see me? That's completely reasonable. What if she is married? God, I would die from utter regret.

The taxi drops me off in front of a normal, family home. I take a deep breath and ring the doorbell.

No answer.

I ring again. And again. And again.

She's probably just not at home. I can't expect her to be at home all the time.

"Hello, sir?" A small voice calls out.

I turn to see an older women, her neighbour, I assume. "Yes?"

"Are you looking for someone?"

"Uh... yes. Yasmeen? Yasmeen Yasin?"

"Ah, you must be the young man she's mentioned to me," she smiles sadly. "She said there might be an unconventionally handsome man who'd come looking for her someday. She just hoped you wouldn't be too late."

Fuck, my chest tightens in a painful knot. She expected me, she's been expecting me for two years. "Do you know when she'll be home?"

"Oh, dear. You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Son... I'm sorry but Yasmeen has been almost completely hospitalized for about a year now. She's fighting late stages of gastric cancer, I believe."

"She... what..." I stumble back. My whole world is spinning, I think I'll be sick.

"I'll write down the hospital details for you. You should go visit her, I'm sure that'll make her extremely happy," she quickly goes inside to write the information.

I fucked up, I fucked up so bad. I did it again, I let her down again. She expected me to come after her and I didn't. And now... she'll...

I thank the woman and call for an Uber. Once I'm inside the hospital, I frantically ask the reception to take me up to Yasmeen's room.

"You're here for Yasmeen?" The nurse asks. "And you are?"

"I'm a... friend," I answer. "Can you please tell me where she is?"

"Friend or boyfriend?" She raises a brow.

I give her a confused look.

The nurse giggles softly. "You must be the boy she never shuts up about. She was not exaggerating when she said that you would be very handsome," she says as she looks me up and down. "It took you long enough."

"A bit too long, unfortunately," I say quietly.

She gives me a sad smile as I follow her.

"She's an absolute doll, you can't even tell what kind of battle she's fighting when you talk to her."

We stop at a door and she knocks. I hold in my breath, on the verge of passing out from nerves.

"Ms. Sunshine, I brought you a boy-toy," the nurse says while peaking through the door.

"Rachel, I told you I won't accept any male attention unless it's from—"

The nurse, Rachel, pushes open the door before Yasmeen can finish her sentence.

"I'm sure you'll like this one," Rachel smiles.

The moment our eyes meet, I almost drop to my knees.

She's thinner, her cheeks hollowed in. Her eyes are dull, not as lively as they used to be. Her lips are thin, dehydrated. She looks weak, tired, frail, sick.

But her smile... her smile is just as bright, just as alive as I remember it, until it drops once she sees me.

"Marcus... you're here..." Her eyes pooling with tears.

"I am," I manage to say quietly.

She's runs across her room, right into my arms. I stumble back at the unexpected force she used. I shut my eyes as my body absorbs the feel of her body into my consciousness. I wrap my arms around her, holding her tight against me.

"I'll leave you tow lovebirds to it, then," Rachel says, excusing herself from the room.

"You're late," Yasmeen states through her soft cries.

"I know," I say, caressing her.

"I mad at you," she says.

"I know," I admit again.

"I'm dying, Marcus," she whispers almost too quietly.

I feel my breath caught in my throat.

"You're late, you're so damn late. I'm dying, I'm closer to death every damn day," she says, gripping my shirt in her hands. "Why didn't you come sooner? Why couldn't you put your fucking ego aside and just come see me?"

I know she's having a hard time holding her own weight, I can tell from the way she's leaning on me for support. "I'm a fucking coward, Yasmeen. I don't deserve you, I told you this. You deserved... so much better," my voice cracks.

Fuck, this hurts. It hurts so fucking bad.

The silence confirms that it doesn't matter what I say or do, it's indeed too late. All we have is now and there's no point of coming up with any more excuses.

She looks up at me, her hand finding the side of my face. "You look like a zombie. When was the last time you slept?"

"I could ask you the same question," I smile slightly as I place my hand on top of hers.

I lead her to the bed when I notice her feeling weaker. We sit down facing each other and she starts fiddling with my hands.

"Did you miss me?" She asks while drawing circles on my palms.

"Hm..."

"Marcus!" She pouts, lightly hitting my chest.

I lean down, making our foreheads touch. Her breathing falters, making me smirk. I still make her nervous.

"I missed you more than you can ever imagine," I admit.

"Enough to touch yourself while thinking about me?" She flutters her lashes innocently.

My eyes widen as she throws her head back to laugh, always succeeding in getting me all hot and bothered.

But fuck, that was hot.

I turn her around pulling her back against me, "Can you feel that, my little dove?"

I feel her back stiffen as she figures out exactly what I'm talking about. She gulps, nodding.

"Good girl... In fact, I did touch myself while thinking about you," My fingers trail down the sides of her arms. "I thought about the way your hands would feel on my skin, the way your lips would feel on my lips, the way your tongue would feel in my mouth, the way my cock would feel in your—"

"Marcus!" Her breathing is clearly heavy.

"We're in a hospital room where I'm literally dy—"

I kiss her before she can finish her sentence. I kiss her with every fibre in my being.

Her hands trail up to my face, pulling me more into her.

I pull away, afraid that if I take my eyes off of her, she'll slip away. "You always tease the lion and expect it to not come out of its cave," I say softly.

"Teasing you is my favourite pass time hobby," she smiles. "I missed it."

"I'm sorry," I finally bring myself to say. "I'm sorry I didn't stop you from leaving, I'm sorry it took me so long to come after you."

She sighs, it's a mournful sound. "There's no use in apologizing now, is there? The past has already gone and we only have now, though I don't have much of now either."

"There has to be a way. I'll find another doctor, another hospital, something—" she puts her hand over my mouth, shaking her head slowly as if she's tired and drained.

"There isn't, Marcus," her voice cracks. "I accepted it long ago and so should you."

"But—"

"I lost Zara, I lost my dad, I lost you. I had nothing—I had no one left. I still tried, I still fought but not anymore. You coming back here doesn't change the fact that I've accepted it'll be time for me to leave this world soon enough."

"I can't... without you..." I begin to say but can't find the right words to continue.

"You can. You did it for two years, you can do it for the rest of your life," there's a hint of bitterness in her tone.

I don't blame her, I hurt her over and over again only to come back to her when it's too late. I'm lucky that she even lets me be here during her last moments.

"Come here," she gestures for me to lay my head against her chest so I do.

I position myself against her chest as she rests her chin on top of my head, wrapping her arms around me. I want to stay like this forever, just like this, in her embrace that's full of so much comfort and warmth.

Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into three months. I didn't leave her side, not for more than just a moment.

She's gotten much weaker than when I first arrived. She's coughing out more and more blood, she can't stand up anymore, now completely bedridden. There are various tubes going in and out of her body, helping her stay alive. Her voice is quieter, coarser, yet still gentle and soft.

I lay on her chest, something she says she enjoys so it's become a routine.

I listen to her beating heart, being more and more attentive. It sounds slower, more hushed.

"Yasmeen..." I call out.

"Hm?"

"I love you," I say.

"I know. I love you, too," her voice no longer sounds like it once since. The sickness eating away at her vocal cords.

"Don't go," I grip her tighter.

"I'm here," she cuddles in closer, her fingers brushing through my hair.

After a minute or two of silence, she begins to hum the tune of You Are My Sunshine.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine... you make me happy when skies are grey... you'll never know, dear, how much I love you... please, don't take my sunshine away..."

I feel her slipping away, my heart feels numb.

She giggles, "What? You don't like it? I can sing something else... hm... let's see..."

I tried telling her it's fine, but I can't gather the words. I'm numb, petrified that my voice would shatter any sense of peace that I'm holding together. I shake my head but she chooses to change it anyways.

"If we had five more minutes of air to breathe..." Her fingers barely manage to comb through my hair, her voice even quieter. "And we cried all through it..." she coughs, this time blood splatters against her tissue.

"You should rest," I try to stop her but she keeps going.

But you spent them with me... On our last few drags of air we agree... I was and you were happy..."

"That's enough, Yasmeen," I can't bear to hear her voice get weaker and weaker.

Why does this sound like a goodbye?

"Because it is," her voice cracks, tears are streaming down her face.

"Did I..." say that out loud?1

She shakes her head and coughs harder, gasping for air. The pulse display beside her bed starts beeping uncontrollably. I jump off the bed, clicking the emergency button.

She grabs my hand as the other one fists the sheet between her fingers. She's trying to stay still as her body fights a seizure.

"Listen... Marcus..."

"Shhh, Yasmeen, please! There's a doctor coming, just..." I'm losing my mind.

"I... love you, I love... you... so much."

"I love you, too, Yasmeen. Now, please. Just stop—"

The doctor and nurses rush through the doors, pushing me out of the way. They do everything in their willpower to stabilize her without success. My world is falling apart right in front of me and I can't do a single fucking thing about it.

After minutes, which felt like hours upon hours, the doctor turns to face me. The defeat is clear as day on his face. "I'll give you a few minutes with her,"

"What do you mean? A few minutes? What—"

"Marcus..." Yasmeen calls out. "You're wasting... time that we don't... have..."

I rush to her side and hold her hand tightly in mine. The light in her eyes are almost gone, she's going to leave me.

"Promise... me..." She begins to say as she struggles for air. "You'll find... peace. Promise me... you... won't lose... your way..."

"I promise you! I swear it!" I'm desperately holding on.

"Say my name one more time, let me hear it coming from your lips," she requests.

"Yasmeen... Yasmeen, please hold on, just a few more minutes... Please, Yasmeen,"

"My name from your mouth... just like honey..." She smiles weakly. "I love you, Marcus."

I lay my head against her chest because I couldn't bring myself to watch the light leave her eyes. "Don't go, please. Don't leave me..."

"I'm here..." She says, her voice faltering.

I listen to the beat of her heart getting irregular and weaker. I feel my own limbs give away as her hand drops from my hair while the machine flatlines.

But not anymore... you're not here any longer... and I'll never be the same.

They always say that you'll no longer feel pain once time passes on, but that's simply not true. I still feel everything. It's been years and I still feel the same regret and the same agony as I felt the day she left.

- - -

- author note -

Again, I ain't paying for anyone's therapy bills because I will not responsible for your mental health after this. 👩‍🦯

This is more or less the type of ending I wanted. Obviously, if this was the ending I chose, it would've been more detailed and gone on for longer but since I just wanted to give y'all a glimpse of my original ending, this is the shorter/quicker version.