Can’t Win Me Back

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.

so big on her emaciated frame that

morning until night, she spoke to

11 Co 18, of their marriage, their divorce, and their eventual

every heart-stopping moment

sad times, tears of

now, all those memories, once too painful to revisit, seemed insignificant in

as she remembered

no right to ask for

"Jasper...

said that there is some issue with

I'm really scared.

you wake up." Alyssa picked up Jasper's calloused hand and interlaced her

over his fingertips, the back of

often said she was like a tender

her trembling in ecstasy before bringing

their affection was more

fingers, her palms—just

her too

love, of not knowing how to express it

what to do with himself

was her turn to be vulnerable, her turn

Indeed, God was just.