Shattered by the Alpha Stronger Than Ever novel Chapter 111

Chapter97

1 remained rooted to the spot, unable to tear myself away from the pointing scene unfolding before me. Despite Karissa’s rejection, I felt an overwhelming urge to be there for her, to bear witness to her pain and offer what little comfort I could, even if it meant nothing to her I just ached to be there from a distance.

As I watched, Deckard tended to her with a gentle devotion that twisted the knife of my regret. His affectionate gestures, the soft kisses on her hand, were an intimacy we once shared. That luxury was now lost to me, an outcome of my own actions.

My body reacted to the anguish, rebelling against the pain as I stumbled away, tetching violently. The world around me began to blur, and I felt like I was being dragged toward a lifetime sentence, one that would condemn me to a life without Karissa. My legs trembled beneath me, my body wracked with exhaustion from the lack of sleep and food. But those physical pangs were mere whispers compared to the screaming wounds inside. Watching Karlssa’s vibrant and radiant presence, now reduced to a broken, lifeless, and hopeless shell, was a torment unlike any other. Her devastation pierced my heart.

The sight of Karissa’s suffering was a slow–burning torture, plaguing me from the inside out. The knowledge that I was powerless to ease her pain, that I was, in fact, another source of her pain was torturing. Every moment I spent watching her, helpless and unable to comfort her, felt like a cruel mockery, the silent jeering applause of my own failures.

I sat there, slumped outside her hospital room, lost in a haze of time, before a hand broke into my line of sight, offering a bag of food and an energy drink. I lifted my gaze to find Deckard standing over me, his expression blank. “You look like you could use some food,” his voice even as he sits at a distance

“Thanks,” I let out a weary sigh as I unwrapped the food, mechanically taking a bite of the burger. My stomach growled in appreciation, but my emotions recoiled, making every chew a forceful task. I forced the food down, the texture and flavors blurring together in a messy, unappetizing lump. All I could taste was the bitter, metallic tang of regret, a constant, gnawing presence that seemed to cling to every intake of air I breathed.

As I finished the meal, pushing the last of the drink down my throat, I turned to Deckard, my body language a picture of defeat. A hysterical sigh escaped my lips as I turned to him.

“You love her, don’t you?” The words stumbled out, and I couldn’t tell if I was asking a question or making a statement. A nagging feeling had always lingered in the back of my mind, a suspicion that His feelings for her went far beyond the boundaries of a childhood friendship.

“It wouldn’t hold any significance admitting it to you.” He forced out, between clenched teeth, low and strained, as if he was barely containing an explosion of pent–up resentment,

I could sense the cool anger there, and I wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d unleashed it on me. The memory of my own jealous fuelled outburst was fresh, and I felt a twinge of mortification for punching him that day. It was a lapse in judgment I deeply regretted.

Just then, muffled cries drifted from the hospital room, and Deckard sprang into action, disappearing inside in an instant, I stood frozen, my gaze fixed on the heartbreaking new reality before me. She was breaking down in Deckard’s arins once again, her body shuddering with sobs as he held her close, gathering the shattered pieces of her together. His arms cradle her with a tenderness that made my chest ache, as if she was the most precious, fragile thing in the world. I remained rooted to the spot, unable to tear my gaze away, perhaps punishing myself for the painful realization that I had officially lost her.

A insufferable pain threatened to buckle my knees, as if my very heart was being electrocuted My chest constricted, the ache so intense it felt like I was suffocating. The sound of her anguished cries was slicing through me.

I strained to listen as she whispered and mumbled incoherently, Deckard’s gentle voice soothing as he firmly comforted her. Then, his words cut through the air, a tender declaration that was hers alone to hear, she was the deserving one.

“Above all, I Love You,” he whispered affectionately, their foreheads touching in a tender, intimate gesture. The sight was like an spear shot expertly aimed at my dying heart and I felt myself stepping back, wounded, bleeding, and defeated. I turned away, my feet carrying me slowly out of the room, away from the unbearable ache of witnessing it.

I reeked of sweat and desperation, and I knew I needed a change of clothes, a chance to scrub away the stench useless regret. I hailed a cab, too shaken to drive, my mind still shaken from the scene I’d just witnessed. As the taxi dropped me off at home, I stumbled out, my feet heavy, as if they were weighed down. I staggered inside, my legs trembling beneath me, and my sister came running out of the

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