They Regretted It After I Gave Up Chapter 02

They Regretted It After I Gave Up Chapter 02

For the past year, he kept telling me I was just sick.

He’d said, *Kat, don’t be scared. You’ll get better once this experimental treatment is over.*

He’d said, *Kat, when you’re well, I’ll take you to California to see the ocean.*

He’d said, *Kat, I’ll always be with you.*

But just now, I had heard him say with my own ears:

“Once Tessa’s interview is over, we won’t have to give Kat any more injections.”

I used to think no one in the world was kinder to me than Beckett.

When we were little, he chased away the boys who made fun of my name.

When we were older, he drove over to pick me up on rainy days and helped me revise my college essays.

A year ago, a deep ache settled into my bones. I had no strength.

After a round of hospital tests, the doctor said it might be chronic fatigue syndrome and that I needed more observation.

During that time, Beckett seemed especially worried about me.

He came to see me every day after school, bringing snacks from Trader Joe’s and sitting by my bed to talk.

“Kat, whatever the results are, I’m here for you.”

Later, he told me his father knew a specialist in Europe who studied rare conditions like mine. He suggested we try a remote consultation first.

Mom and Dad agreed immediately.

The specialist reviewed my test results over a video call, his expression grave.

“The situation is more complicated than we thought. It’s already affecting her muscular and cognitive functions.”

Mom and Dad broke down on the spot.

I cried, too.

Beckett stood beside me, held my hand, and said, “Kat, don’t be scared.”

Now I knew.

All his concern had been a lie.

From that day on, I began the so-called treatment.

One experimental injection every week.

One strange-tasting herbal supplement every day.

One intensive IV infusion every month.

Those things only made me worse.

After each injection, my legs would go weak. Even getting out of bed became a struggle.

After drinking that supplement, I would often sleep for an entire day.

A year passed.

I didn’t get better. My body only got worse.