Chapter 367

Wade stood and moved toward the window, his back to me. I quietly approached the bed. Up close, I saw she was strikingly similar to me; breathtakingly beautiful. If my parents were alive, I would have immediately asked if I had a long-lost sister. My eyes fell on the nameplate: Narelle Yule, 28 years old. "Miss Yule," I silently greeted, "I'm Keira."

Wade's voice broke the silence. "Come back in," he said into his phone, instructing the caregiver.

The caregiver returned promptly, prompting me to leave the room. Wade followed silently, and we walked in heavy quiet. After some distance, he spoke.

"The doctors say there's no chance of recovery. Her family… they've given up."

"But you haven't," I replied.

Wade's pace slowed; his voice was barely a whisper. "People always say there's a chance for a miracle, right?"

Miracles exist, certainly. We see them on TV, read about them, but in real life, they're exceedingly rare.

"You told me she's been like this for a year, right?"

"Almost two years," he corrected, his voice hollow.

Two years. If a miracle were to happen, it would have by now. Her family's surrender spoke volumes.

"You could still try to convince them," I offered, hoping to comfort him.

Wade lowered his gaze. "I already did. Last week, they wanted to discontinue treatment. I begged them for more time. They gave me one more week. Now… there are only three days left."

The deadline loomed; with Narelle unresponsive, hopelessness enveloped him.

"Are you holding on because you can't let go of her? Or is it because you don't want to live with the guilt?" I asked, seeking to understand his motivation.

Wade swallowed hard. "Even if she wakes up, I'll still owe her."

He was right. Since Narelle sacrificed herself for him, that debt became a part of him. Even with a full recovery, the burden would remain. It wasn't just guilt; he didn't want to lose her.

"You can't convince her family, and it's making you feel powerless, isn't it?" I asked, knowing the answer.

Wade's steps slowed almost to a halt. "I'm not anyone important to her. I don't have the right to decide…" His voice cracked. "I don't even have the right to protect her."

Seeing his defeat, I hesitated before asking the question hanging in the air: "Do you love her?"

Wade looked up, his eyes wide with shock and panic. His reaction answered my question. I didn't know their full story, but it was clearly tragic.

A wave of empathy washed over me. I felt for Wade and the weight he carried, but knew my words couldn't ease his pain. Everyone has their wounds; only they can heal them.

Wade remained silent as he walked me back to Yuna's room. He handed me the fruit with a soft, sincere, "Thank you."

I nodded lightly. "Keep moving forward."

He hummed faintly, then turned and walked away. I watched him disappear around the corner. I didn't move until I felt a lightness in my hand. Looking up, I saw Hayden standing before me.