Ever since Alyssa woke, she had hardly left Jasper's side, forsaking sleep and rest with no regard for her own health.

Three more days dragged by, though for her, it felt like months— years—decades.

The time that passed was agonizing.

This wasn't the first time Jasper had been hurt because of her.

She had been through the fear and panic before, when his life hung by a thread or when he lay in a deep coma.

Yet, this time was different.

For reasons she couldn't understand, the calm and rationality she once had had vanished.

She gripped his hand tightly, her fingers woven with his.

Fear surged through her like an avalanche, threatening to drown her from the inside.

This was a fear that she had never felt.

That intense helplessness tormented her mentally every second of the day.

In just one week, Alyssa, once proud and radiant, had withered like a pale white rose.

She was gaunt, fragile, and exhausted.

her emaciated frame that

morning until night, she spoke

Co 18, of their marriage,

remembered every heart-stopping

sad

all those memories, once too painful to revisit,

she remembered him, everything was

right to

"Jasper...

said that there is some issue with your

I'm really scared.

will forget me when you wake up." Alyssa picked up Jasper's calloused

kisses all over his fingertips, the back of his hand, and

their most intimate moments, Jasper had often said she was like a tender piece

her trembling in ecstasy before

public, their affection was more

her fingers, her palms—just

her

way of showing his love, of not knowing

didn't know what to do with himself physically

it was her turn to be vulnerable, her turn to taste the fear of

Indeed, God was just.

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