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.

than to pay with his life for what he owes

even understand the nature of this debt? It's a debt

all I had lost

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

we do can bring

can bring them back to life. I'm left talking to

I hate the most?" I

lifted my arm, striking it with the other hand. "I hate that I share the same blood type

mixture of pain and

this began with you. You're the one truly to blame," I spat out, the memories of our

"What good does that do? Can you turn back

he conceded. "Felicia, would my death make your hatred