His Favorite Killed His Saviour Chapter 08

His Favorite Killed His Saviour Chapter 08

Three days later, Blaine stood outside in a tailored suit, holding a bouquet of red roses like a teenager on his first date.

I watched through the window. A sudden pain tore through my abdomen, and blood rose into my

mouth.

The pain folded me over before I could call for help, and the metallic taste of blood flooded my

tongue.

Outside, Blaine was still smiling at the house, unaware that the three days had brought him to a

final goodbye.

By the time Blaine realized something was wrong and forced the door open, I knew this would be

the last time we saw each other.

I smiled while blood continued spilling over my lips. He wiped it away with his sleeve and begged

me not to die.

His hands shook so badly that he only spread the blood across my chin and his white cuff.

Every time he begged, his voice rose higher, as if volume alone could keep my heart beating.

He cried like the frightened boy I had found beneath that tree.

I pulled his hand away. “I have one final request, Blaine.

“I want my burial plot beside Elliot’s.”

‘And I want you to live a long life. Live with what you did to both of us.”

He held me and wept until he could barely speak.

“You’re cruel, Avery,” he said. “You’ve always been so cruel to me.”

An ambulance siren rose outside. I looked around the familiar Monroe home one last time.

A small cat jumped through the open window and rubbed its head against me with a mournful cry.

Its small body pressed against my side with the same gentle insistence Elliot had once used when

wiping away my tears.

I knew it could not truly answer me, but its arrival felt like a promise reaching across death.

Elliot, I had repaid the debt of love and the debt of life I owed you. If we met again, could we love each other without guilt?

Would you give me another chance beyond this life?

The ambulance carried my body away. Blaine collapsed from grief before it reached the end of the

drive.

He followed until his legs gave way, then disappeared behind the closing ambulance doors as the

siren carried me from the Monroe home.

That was the last image my failing body kept of him.

My spirit lingered for seven days. I did not see Blaine again until the third day.

His hair had turned white. He sat beside my headstone and carefully wiped the surface clean.

The black-haired man from three days earlier had become a white-haired stranger whose face

seemed decades older.

He cleaned every letter of my name with the concentration of someone performing the only act of

care still available to him.

He seemed to have aged decades overnight.

“Was this your punishment?” he asked.

“You told me to live a long life, but you left me completely alone.”

I stayed beside him without answering. Death had made my spirit light, as if my emotions had faded

with the weight of my body.

Each night, I rested near the graves and waited for someone to guide me onward,

I stayed between my grave and Elliot’s, listening to leaves move through the dark while the living

came and went.

I did not know who I was waiting for, only that I was not meant to leave alone.

On the seventh day, they came.

Audrey Monroe stood with her arm around Grant, while Grandpa Harrison leaned on his cane and

smiled at me.

“We’re here to take you home,” Mom said. “Everything is ready on the other side.”

For one bright moment, I felt like a child again. I followed them into the distance.

The years of grief fell away, and I felt as young and safe as I had when my parents and grandfather

were still beside me.

Together, we walked toward a home that required no explanation of death.

Behind me, a dirty little cat raced through the cemetery as if it had crossed the world to find me.

It pressed its head against my photograph and let out a lonely cry.

Thirty years later, a young couple passed the Monroe family home.

The woman slowed and pressed one hand to her chest. “Eli, why does my heart hurt whenever I walk past this place?

“It feels like a stone is sitting inside me.”

The young man brushed a finger over her nose, then crouched in front of her. “Hop on,

queen.”

Ava laughed and climbed onto his back. “Forward, my love.

“Charge for Ava!”

drama

Eli carried her down the street at a run, but every step was steady, as if the woman on his back were

his entire world.

They passed an old man with snow-white hair.

He turned and watched Ava with a longing he could not explain. Autumn wind scattered leaves

across the road, and grief struck him without warning.

Something in her voice, her smile, or the careless way she trusted Eli’s arms reached a memory too

deep for age to erase.

Blaine stood frozen while the couple continued down the road without recognizing him.

Though he was ancient now, Blaine cried like a child who had lost the one precious thing he could

never replace.