No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

Conrad looked like he had been through a war zone. His hair was a mess, and a stubble had begun to take over his usually clean-shaven face. It was the first time I'd seen him in such disarray, a clear sign that his night had been as restless as mine. He must have caught wind of his father's actions; why else would he have blown up my phone all night? Even though I deeply resented him, the mastermind behind my suffering, I realized I felt no hatred when I actually faced him. Instead, there was an unsettling calmness, perhaps a sign that my capacity for hate had reached its limit.

Standing awkwardly at the door, this was hardly the place for a heart-to-heart. "Come in," I said with an unexpected serenity.

Conrad slumped onto the couch across from me. "My mom... she told me everything... Felicia, I'm sorry..."

His apology hung in the air, unfinished. I knew there was more he came to say.

"Felicia, I know saying sorry is meaningless now, so I'm here to ask you..." He hesitated, his eyes searching mine.

It wasn't a question, more of a plea. "Could you let him be, just for my dad's sake? He doesn't have much time left."

A plea from Conrad was a rarity. Despite his flaws, he was undeniably devoted to his family.

remained silent, letting him stew in his own awkwardness. "I know it's a lot to ask, considering my dad... he'd deserve nothing less than to pay with

understand the nature of this debt? It's a debt of life," I found my voice rising,

of life debt brought back memories of all I had

dropped. "I know. That's why I'm asking you to let him go. I'll do anything you ask in return." But how could they ever make up for losing my parents? That's what really tore me up. "What do you think could possibly repay the life of my parents?" I

into his features. "Felicia, I know nothing we do can bring your parents back. The toss you've suffered... there's no undoing

you do can bring them back to life. I'm left talking to cold gravestones," my voice trembled with the effort

know, Conrad, do you know who I hate the most?" I

hate that I share the same blood type as you. Why did

mixture of pain and regret

truly to blame," I spat out, the memories of our past, once sweet, now a bitter joke. "Yes, I know I'm to blame," he agreed

anger. "What good does that do? Can

your hatred lessen? Would it