Shattered by the Alpha Stronger Than Ever novel Chapter 34

Chapter21

Byron tenderly offered me a glass of water, his hand steady as he helped me stumble to a nearby bench, my legs trembling beneath me like a leaf in an autumn gale. As I collapsed onto the cool surface, he sunk beside me, his gaze averted, his eyes fixed on some invisible. point on the floor.

His sigh was a heavy, defeated sound, like the creaking of an ancient door, as he dropped his head into his hands, his shoulders slumping in a gesture of despair. The silence between us was questioning, as if daring me to speak, to explain, to justify the unforgivable. But I had no words, only the bitter taste of shame.

As my head finally slowed its dizzying spin, I sprang to my feet with a desperate urgency, my hands grasping for Byron’s shoulders like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline. “Ka–Karissa, where is she?” I begged, my voice cracking with distress.

“Please, please tell me!” I pleaded, my eyes locking onto his with a frantic severity.

“She…she went back to San Francisco,” he stammered as if contemplating the next words, “to move out of your place.” The words dropped like a blade, ending the last threads of hope, leaving me staring into the abyss of my own making.

1 grasped Byron’s hands in a fervent, almost desperate gesture, my fingers intertwining with his like a supplicant’s prayer. “I need to go to her, I need to talk to her, please,” I begged, my voice trembling with urgency,

“Can–can you send my stuff to a courier, please?” I urged, my eyes locked onto his with a pleading intensity.

Byron’s expression remained grim, his face a mask of resigned determination, but he nodded curtly.

“When did she leave?” I shuddered with my question, my voice laced with a growing sense of desperation, each passing second twisting my gut into a tighter knot. Byron’s response was a flat, emotionless blow, delivered with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel.

“They left about thirty minutes ago,” he replied,

The watch on my wrist seemed to mock me, its ticking a’remorseless countdown to the irreversible loss that had already slipped through my fingers like sand.

The movement was brief, but it spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of my situation, and the faint glimmer of hope.

I hastily gathered my belongings and sprinted to the airport, weaving through the throngs of people with a sense of urgent desperation.

1 dodged startled travelers and burst through the crowds, earning irate glares and muttered curses as I went.

The sounds of the terminal, the announcements, the rustle of luggage and the hum of conversation, taded into a distant blur as I focused on a single goal, reaching Karissa before it was too late. My teet pounded the polished floor, carrying me toward the gate with a speed born of panic and regret.

I purchased the first available ticket, regardless of the expensive cost, and spent the interminable wait pacing back and forth like a caged animal.

The sorrow that had taken up residence in my mind marched havoc. If the self–devouring remorse didn’t ultimately kill me, the exhaustion it wrought surely would, my eyes felt like hardened pebbles, my limbs heavy with the burden I carried.

Time itself seemed to slow, stretching out the minutes into an eternity of despair as I waited to board the plane, my mind racing with the devastating consequences of my actions.

As I settled into my seat, rellef and heartache washed over me, the private enclosure offered a small mercy, allowing me to surrender to the emotional storm that had been building inside.

The hostess’s concerned inquiry about my dishevelled state was met with a curt nod, my voice lost to the overwhelming turmoil. The bitter taste of bile lingered in my throat, refusing to subside, as I clasped my head in my hands, silently imploring the universe to ease the excruciating pain that threatened to consume me whole.

The five and a half hours that followed were an eternity of anguish, each ticking minute a fresh torment. I kept my phone charged, my eyes fixed on the screen with a desperate intensity, as I repeatedly clicked on Karissa’s WhatsApp profile, only to be met with the crushing silence of unread messages.

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