Patient B-2

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Avalyn

"I wasn't ready to see them, I-" I begin, but she cuts me off with a vehement rebuke.

"Not them, me!" she bellows, her voice echoing with hurt and betrayal. "Me! Your best friend!"

"I know, I should have-" I try to interject, but once again, she silences me with her searing anger.

"Should have," she scoffs, her laughter bitter and hollow. "But you didn't. You let me think you were dead. You let me grieve you. You left me to deal with all of this alone. You left!"

"I'm sorry," I whisper, feeling the tremble in my voice as the weight of my actions bears down on me.

"You're the worst."

"I know," I concede, unable to dispute the truth of her accusation. Turning my gaze to the two men lingering in the doorway, I add, "Can we go somewhere to talk? I don't want them here."

"Baby..." Cierien's voice breaks the tense silence, but his words falter when I turn away, unable to meet his gaze.

Sophie's laughter cuts through the air, her head shaking in disbelief as her eyes rake over me with a mix of disappointment and frustration. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say," she asserts, her tone unyielding.

"We should talk in private, Soph," I plead, desperation creeping into my voice as I reach out to her.

"It doesn't matter what you want right now, Avalyn. It won't fix what you broke," Sophie insists, her words cutting through my defenses like a knife.

Despite my lack of actual anger towards Sophie, I feel myself growing defensive. I've never felt so vulnerable, so exposed. Her implication that this is all my fault stings. Even though I know I've made mistakes, I never asked for any of this.

"No? Nothing I have to say matters?" I retort, a bitter edge to my voice as I snicker at her incredulous expression. "I suppose I don't get to have an opinion on the fact that you've been living with the men who hurt me either?"

Her eyes widen for just a fleeting moment, a flicker of pain crossing her features in response to my words. I see the impact of my words, yet I press on, the bitterness in my voice palpable. "I'm so sorry that I couldn't face you, Sophie," I continue, my words laden with regret. "But even if I wanted to, I couldn't exactly do that when you were befriending the men who tried to kill me. I wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for them, but yes, go on and tell me about how shitty of a friend I am."

"I-" Sophie begins, but her words falter, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, struggling to find her voice amidst the tumult of emotions.

"What's wrong with you?" Wrath interjects, his disbelief evident as he shakes his head in dismay.

"What's wrong... with me?" I echo his words, struggling to comprehend why Wrath is addressing me in this moment.

"Sophie had no other choice but to stay with us. We helped her in her transition. She lost her best friend, and the only people she could turn to were us. Do you think that's what she wanted? She didn't ask for any of this," Wrath explains, his words tinged with a mixture of frustration and empathy.

Empathy for her, not a shred for me. She didn't ask for any of this, but who cares that I didn't either?

While his words ring true, and I acknowledge them, they fail to quell the rising tide of anger within me. Sophie had no other choice, and I don't blame her for seeking solace with them. Right now, my emotions aren't directed at her; I'm consumed by fear. Terrified that I've irreparably damaged everything and will only continue to do so. If only I could have a moment alone with her to express my thoughts freely, without these two imposing figures looming over us. Perhaps then, I could articulate what's truly on my mind. But with their piercing stares fixed upon me, I find myself too overwhelmed with anxiety to think clearly. Instead of finding a resolution, I'm caught in a cycle of self-destruction.