Unlovable

.30.

Darkness.

Darkness all around me.

Harvard, my studies, my dream.

My parents, my hometown LA, my life.

Him.

Everything was full of darkness. Echoed voices did not reach my deaf ears. Blacked sight did not my reach my blind eyes. I was gone, for I was in an endless abyss of darkness. All I could feel was that this was what it was. The light after darkness or darkness after light.

As consciousness gently seeped back into my mind, it felt like emerging from the depths of a dreamless abyss. The first sensations were a vague awareness of warmth and the distant murmur of voices, like echoes bouncing off the walls of a cavern. Slowly, my eyelids fluttered open, revealing blurred shapes and muted colors dancing before me. Each breath I took felt like a laborious effort, as if I had been submerged underwater for an eternity. My body felt heavy and unresponsive, every muscle protesting as I attempted to move. Panic clawed at the edges of my mind as fragmented memories began to piece themselves together, whispering tales of a time lost to me. Gradually, clarity pierced through the haze, and I realized I was no longer lost in the void of unconsciousness but returning to the world of the living.

The world around me swirled in a haze of dim lights and muffled sounds as I slowly regained consciousness. My eyelids felt heavy, as if weighted down by the weight of the darkness that enveloped me. With a groan, I tried to lift them again, to pierce through the fog that clouded my mind.

The sterile scent of antiseptic tantalized my senses, mingling with the metallic tang of blood that lingered in the air. Panic surged through me again, a primal instinct clawing at the edges of my consciousness as I tried to sit up, to escape the suffocating confines of the hospital bed.

"Lily, easy now. Don't move too quickly." The voice was a lifeline in the darkness, familiar and reassuring. I turned my head, my gaze falling upon Lorenzo Genesis, Vincenzo's brother, seated beside me with worry etched into the lines of his face.

Wasn't he one of the most powerful mafia who wanted me death in the first book— I meant, few months back.

"Welcome back, idiota."

"Lorenzo..." My voice was a raspy whisper, the sound foreign to my ears.

I swallowed past the dryness in my throat, the memories of the events leading up to this moment flooding back with visceral clarity. Why did I sound so much like a horse trying to sing, I wondered.

As the fog of unconsciousness lifted further, a sharp pang of betrayal pierced my heart like a dagger. Memories flooded back in a torrent, revealing the shocking truth that it was Adrian, who shot me when I knew he wasn't. I was confidant about him yet he ended up being the one who had pulled the trigger. The disbelief was palpable as I struggled to reconcile the image of the man I once trusted as my friend, and possibly someone who admired and cared for me, with the cruel reality of his actions. How could someone I had looked up to, someone who had guided me through the darkest moments of my life, be capable of such treachery? Yet, the evidence was undeniable, the bullet wound on my body was a painful testament to his deception. Anger bubbled within me, hot and fierce, mingling with the throbbing ache of my injuries. But amidst the fury and hurt, there was confusion.

"What happened?" I asked, my heart pounding in my chest. The last thing I remembered was the gunshot, the blinding agony that had consumed me in its wake.

"You were shot, Lily," Lorenzo answered, his voice heavy with sorrow. "You are fine now."

"Did he operate me?" My question lingered in the air. Like the first time, I knew he would be the one pulling the bullet out from me as I was the one always taking the bullet in me. It seemed like a circle of life and death.