“I beg you to come.
I need your forgiveness.
I'm dying.”

I didn't hear from Alastair for the next few days. The days then turned to a whole week and I felt each day passing by slowly and painfully, without any contact from him.

I tried calling him. Each time it went straight to his voicemail. There was also one time when he hung up on the other end--worse than being left on voicemail. He didn't reply to my texts either, or even read them. It was almost as if he wasn't even there in my life anymore.

And that started scaring me.

It started getting frightening at nights when I laid down on my bed, thinking things through. It started getting scary when I thought too much about it, about why I had to mess things up when they were finally starting to go well.

Him avoiding me for so long was terrifying. It made me feel like I was letting go of the only thing that ever made me feel fully happy; myself. And that was scary because it made me feel alone--the one thing that I always got whenever I fucked things up. The empty loneliness.

I needed him. I wanted him. Because I have never been this scared to let someone go.

I love him, I realized.

I cried myself to sleep that night, because I had been so stupid to not realise this sooner. That I do love him and I've always loved him from the very start. From that time I saw that beautiful pale boy in that hospital room for the very first time, who could hardly sleep, who was always so afraid of opening up, just like me. And I realised that I will stupidly love him till the end.

I'll love him no matter what.

The awful hollow space where your heart was supposed to be, the hollow space that only seemed to be full when he was around me. Love isn't a feeling, I realized. It was the absence of that hollowness in your heart, the one that we all are deep down so scared to let go of.

******

The next night, with just two weeks left for me to go back to America, Luce noticed that something was up.

"Did you both have a fight?" She asked me one night while we sat in a local burger restaurant, just after ordering our food.

"Both?" I asked her, sipping on my giant glass of iced water.

"Alastair and you."

I kind of wished she wasn't sitting right across from me. Her gaze got so unnerving at moments like such. And just hearing Alastair's name made me realize how long it had been since I last saw him. I missed him so much.

"No." I lied, then remembered that we had both agreed on not lying anymore. "Not really. Um...we had a minor disagreement."

Her brows raised up even further. "And you both haven't been in contact for weeks?"

"Just a week." I corrected her, even though I could literally feel my heart sinking when she said that. Was Alastair really that angry with me? Was he even all right?

What had I done?

"Oh." She murmured, then nodded. "It'll be fine. Everyone fights. You both go along so well, I'm pretty sure it wasn't a big deal."

She was wrong. Because it was a big deal when another few days passed by. It got to a point that I couldn't even leave messages in his voicemail anymore when it got so full. I had nothing left.

When I started getting a little too worried, I called Maria. I didn't tell her what had happened between us, what caused the disagreement in the first place. And she told me that Alastair was doing fine.

But she failed to tell me that that had just been an act of his.

Perhaps she didn't know.

That's probably why she sounded like she'd been crying when she called me Tuesday night, almost near midnight, to tell me there had been an emergency and Alastair was at the hospital.

"What do you mean?" I asked her as I sat upright on my bed, my eyes wide, my heart racing.

"I don't think I'm allowed to say it, Lia." She sounded so worried at that moment, which didn't really lessen the panic inside me.

I got angry at that. Of course I did.

"What the fuck do you mean?" I asked her a little frantically. "You told me he was doing fine. You...Is he fine? Just tell me what happened. Please." It was the fear slowly clouding in my stomach, clawing its way up my throat.

Maria told me the name of the hospital.

She also told me that Alastair had nearly overdosed on his pills.

Luce must've noticed the urgency on my face when I asked her to drop me at the Berkeley Hospital. She didn't ask me what was wrong, just fetched her coat and car keys and told me to lock the front door on my way out.

I barely even registered wearing pajamas as I shrugged on my own coat and left the apartment, trailing behind Luce. I could hardly think about anything other than him.

Alastair. Alastair. Alastair.

I felt like crying. That's how I had been feeling since the past few days. But right now I needed to see him first. I needed to make sure that he was fine. I needed to know that it wasn't my fault.

"Is it Alastair?" Luce asked me with a worried glance as she drove.

I felt my throat constricting but I managed a nod. Only a nod.

"He'll be fine, Lia." She gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. I heard the uncertainty in her voice though.

When we reached the hospital, Luce told me that she'd be waiting outside for me. I nearly ran inside the hospital when I got out of Luce's car, my heart beating so loudly and my head filling up with too many scary scenarios.

It was horrifying.

I noticed Maria just as quick in the almost empty hospital hallway, apart from the few hospital staff walking around.

"Lia." She noticed me too, her face bare of any makeup. She had been crying.

"Where is he?" I asked her, my eyes wide and darting around the various rooms. "Is he fine? What happened? Why...why did no one tell me?"

Was I too late?

She held both of my shoulders and squeezed, managing a small, wobbly smile.

"He's fine, Lia." She said, nodding. "It's fine. It's just...I can't believe I didn't notice. No one did."

He wasn't answering my calls, I wanted to say. I would have noticed. I would've noticed it.

Perhaps that was exactly why he hadn't been answering my calls. He knew I would notice.

"He swallowed too many of his pills. One of the maids in the house found out. His mom, she was...she was just here a few seconds ago." She continued, looking down the hallway. "I found out because I was stopping by his house right then, and I noticed the ambulance. I don't think they'd be telling anyone else. Not with what he did before. And not after the thing with those reporters happened."

I swallowed. "And he's...he's fine right now?"

"Yeah. They pumped it out of his system. He's fine."

He's fine.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets, glad that she couldn't see them shaking so badly, and nodded. I didn't feel relieved. If anything, I just felt more awful.

"Can I...can I see him?" I asked her, my voice cracking a little in between. Maria noticed and I saw her eyes softening in what I suppose was sympathy. I didn't need sympathy right now. I was the last person who deserved sympathy right now.

"I don't know, Lia. I don't think--"

"He's not allowed for visitors."

Both of us our heads turned towards the voice and noticed Iris Hawthorne standing a few feet away from us. Her gaze swept from Maria to me, seeming just as bare of makeup as Maria. The look of exhaustion on her face was concealed, but I still noticed it, realizing that this must've been hard for her too.

Her words, however, did not go unnoticed by me.

"But...I can see him. Right?" My eyes widened a little. Wouldn't they let me see Alastair? How was I supposed to leave without seeing him?

"Should you?" Mrs Hawthorne's steely gaze was on me now. It made my heart race a little more. I didn't really know what to say in response to that, my eyes welling up with tears that I had been trying so hard to keep at bay.

I didn't know what to do.

"Maria, dear, give us a moment." Mrs Hawthorne glanced over at Maria, who nodded with a sniff before turning around and walking away. She didn't, however, leave before giving my arm another reassuring squeeze.

I opened my mouth to say something but closed it right after when Mrs. Hawthorne stepped a little closer to me, her gaze still fixed on me.

I didn't want to be here. I wanted to see Alastair.

"I didn't know this would happen." I spoke up first, my voice low and strained. I didn't look at her. Anywhere but her gaze.

"None of us did." She replied.

But I did, I wanted to say, I was dreading this every day when he wasn't answering my calls.

"Why...why can't I see him?" I asked her, looking at her this time, my voice lowering down to a pained whisper. "Please. I-I can't leave without seeing him."

Her brows furrowed a little before she sighed.

"I'm not the one stopping you."

The confusion must've been obvious on my face.

"I don't think he wants to see you, Ophelia." She added.

I didn't know what to be more surprised of: what she had just said or the mere fact that she knew my name.

"Why..." I inhaled sharply. "Why would he not want to see me?"

Her gaze softened, or maybe I was just seeing things.

"He's still unconscious. They have pumped out the drugs from his system, but he hasn't been fully awakened yet." She told me, her gaze flickering away from me. "He was murmuring a few words in his sleep. Words with your name in it."

I felt something twisting painfully in my stomach.

"I don't think he wants to see you." She said, then sighed again, tiredly. "I don't think he wants you to see him in this state."

A tear slowly rolled down my cheek and I was quick to wipe it away, breathing out shakily.

I saw Mrs Hawthorne shaking her head just a little, looking away. "I don't know what's going on between you two." She seemed uncomfortable even saying that. "And I don't mean to meddle in between this. But I think it would be best if you leave."

I can't leave, I wanted to say. I can't leave without seeing him.

"Okay." I managed a small nod, looking down at the polished hospital floor. And then a few more tears fell down my face, increasing that small heavy feeling in my chest. "I'll...I'll come by some other time."

The dread in my stomach had increased to a whole new level. I felt like throwing up. And I just needed Alastair right now. Just for a few seconds.

Why couldn't I? Why couldn't I just see him with my own eyes, make sure he was fine?

Before I could have turned around to leave--which honestly would have taken some time since I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to take a step outside this hospital without fully breaking down--I heard Mrs Hawthorne letting out another forceful sigh, merely out of disbelief this time.

Then she was shaking her head again as she watched me.

"You can see him from outside his room." She said, "He's not awake yet. But if that'll make you feel...better."

It took me by surprise, not really understanding why she was being nice. I didn't ask her though, not when she already looked uncomfortable enough. Maybe she could've somehow seen the pathetic mess I was right now. Maybe she wasn't as bad as I had thought.

"I can?" I asked her.

"Yes." She nodded, sliding her hands inside her expensive coat pockets. "Room 24. Don't go inside, please. I'm being rational on my part."

I nodded quickly and she stepped out of my way.

"I'll be there in a short while." She added and then walked away.

I didn't think I wasted a single second before rushing down the hallway, towards room 24.

When I reached there, the door was closed shut. Even if everything inside me told me to open it, I didn't. I had a nagging feeling that Mrs Hawthorne was watching me and I didn't want to be kicked out of here.

Stepping towards the glass window, I peeked through the open blinds and looked inside the typical hospital room. The lights were on and so were the machines. I could barely make their distant beeping sounds. But I did see Alastair lying on the bed, his eyes closed shut. Unconscious.

It hurt something inside me as I stared at him. I had to bite on my lower lip as I stared, having this strong strong urge to go in there and just cry.

Why did it take him all of this to be at peace?

Why had he pushed me away?

I kept standing there for I don't know how long, staring at him through the glass window, just hoping he'd open his eyes, wishing that I could see the warm grey in them. But he didn't want me there. He was still trying to push me away.

"I'm sorry, Alas." I whispered to myself.

I shouldn't have shown him that picture. I shouldn't have.

"Something was troubling him."

I stiffened and looked over at Mrs Hawthorne, who was now standing right beside me, her gaze directed at the window just like mine had been a few seconds ago.

"And you know what it is." She turned her gaze on me. I tried but failed to look away. "Don't you?"

I didn't have it in me to lie right now.

"Yes."

I was expecting her to further ask me about it. Instead, she responded by turning her gaze back towards the window, giving me a slight nod. I kept on staring at her.

"You know about it too," I said.

"There are few things that you can't not know." She replied in a monotonous way. Picking out the emotions from her constant stoic expression was so difficult, especially when I normally sucked at that. Alastair was good at it.

"So you know that he has a twin." I inhaled.

Her gaze flickered to mine but there was no surprise in it. "Had."

I blinked once, twice, before looking away, trying to process a lot of things at the same time.

He doesn't know that he had a sibling.

"Why...why didn't you tell him?" I looked at her again, my brows furrowed in confusion. "He didn't know about it. Why doesn't he remember? This...doesn't make sense."

"A lot of things don't make sense, young lady."

"What do you mean?"

She gave me that scrutinizing look, the one that made me feel like something was crawling on my skin. It was not a nice feeling.

"Your relationship with him doesn't make sense." She stated as a matter of fact.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my hoodie sleeves, turning my gaze away from hers. It did make sense, I wanted to say. He loves me, I wanted to tell her, and I think I could love him too. What didn't make sense in that?

But maybe she was right. Why else had I not stopped this from happening? Why else had I not been there for him when he needed someone?

I heard her inhaling deeply. "But then again, Alastair has never been this committed in a relationship before. So...it must make some sense."

I looked at her in surprise, frowning just a little. She was being nice. She was trying to be nice for Alas's sake. I followed her gaze to Alastair's still unconscious form.

"So his twin isn't alive." I murmured slowly.

Mrs Hawthorne shifted a little. "I suppose so."

"What's wrong with saying yes?"

"I'd be careful with my tone if I were you."

She was probably right. But both of us weren't similar in any way.

"You knew about his twin." I spoke up much more carefully this time. "And Alastair doesn't. Why do you think that is? Why did you never tell him?"

She took her time to reply. "He doesn't need to know."

I stared at her, hoping she'd elaborate.

"He doesn't need to know about his...past." She looked at me. Her eyes were a darker shade than Alas's, but still a beautiful grey. Just like his mother's, I realized. Iris and Imogen, they were sisters. And I could see the little resemblance in her and the woman I'd seen in that photograph.

"Forgetting about it was his own choice." She added, looking a little uneasy. "The best choice for him."

"You don't know that." I lowered my voice when a few nurses walked by.

"And you do?"

I fell quiet at that.

"I'm not blaming you. Even if I should." She looked away. "You were clearly the one who told him about it. And you shouldn't have."

"He can't live like this." I whispered.

"Who are you to decide that?"

I stared at her silently, feeling this small heavy feeling settling at the pit of my stomach.

"He was seeing visions of his brother." I heard my voice trembling a bit, feeling new tears clouding over my vision. God, why was I crying so much?

Her gaze was on me even when I wasn't looking at her. It was unnerving.

"I'm guessing you weren't supposed to tell me that?" She asked in what I suppose was a soft manner.

I shook my head, sniffling. "I...I wasn't."

"I'll have a talk with him when he wakes up."

My eyes widened. "No, I didn't mean--"

"A family talk. Don't worry, I can be a little soft too sometimes." I literally saw her rolling her eyes and it effectively made me shut up.

A nurse came up from the end of the hallway, greeting Mrs. Hawthorne with a slight nod of her head before opening the door and stepping inside the roo.. My gaze latched to the opened door and then towards Alastair. He seemed like he was stirring awake.

"Also," Mrs. Hawthorne added, "I think you should stay away from him."

My mouth fell open in surprise but nothing came out. Wasn't she just being nice to me? Weren't we past that whole stage?

"You'd be leaving for the states pretty soon, Ms. Hart." She replied, giving me a pointed look. "I'm sure you're aware, even more so than me, that he doesn't need an unstable relationship like that. Not right now."

I truly despised that little part inside of me that told me she wasn't wrong. Because she wasn't. What she had just said made sense in every way.

"But...I can't just--"

"Don't make him rely on you." It was almost a soft murmur that left her lips. "It might break him."

I know, I wanted to say. It might break me too.