The Last Goodbye
871 Words
silence~
It stretched endlessly around Mav, thick and suffocating. The world outside the hospital window kept moving—cars rushing by, people talking, life going on—but inside this room, everything felt… still.
His fingers twitched against the sheets, his heart pounding against his ribs. He wasn’t afraid of silence. He had lived in it, in the stillness of a world without sight, where voices mattered more than faces, where touch meant more than appearances. But this silence… it wasn’t comforting.
It was empty.
And the only voice he wanted to hear—the one that had been his anchor through the storm—was gone.
The Operation
Mav had never been one to rely on fate. He had always believed in making his own path, shaping his own destiny. But after losing his vision, after feeling the weight of isolation, Isa had become something more than just the girl who helped him.
She had become his reason to hope.
He still remembered the way her fingers had curled around his hand before the operation.
“Are you ready?” she had asked, her voice softer than usual.
Mav had nodded, though deep down, he wasn’t just nervous about the surgery. He was nervous about what came next.
“I want you to be the first person I see,” he had told her.
There had been a hesitation. A pause. It was so small he almost missed it.
But then she had smiled. He could hear it in her voice when she whispered, “I’ll be right here.”
Waking Up Alone
Pain. A dull, persistent ache spread through his skull, making it hard to think. The world was too bright, too sharp, a blur of white and gray as his senses adjusted.
Mav blinked. The fog in his vision cleared, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he could see.
The walls. The machines. The window overlooking the city.
But not her.
His chest tightened. His heartbeat pounded in his ears.
“Isa?” His voice was rough, barely more than a whisper.
No answer.
Mav forced himself to sit up, ignoring the stiffness in his body. His vision was still adjusting, but he could see well enough to know—she wasn’t there.
His hands gripped the sheets. “Where is she?” he demanded, his voice sharp.
The nurse who had just entered the room hesitated. “She left.”
Mav froze. “What do you mean… left?”
“She walked out a few hours ago. Didn’t say where she was going.”
No. That didn’t make sense.
She promised.
She promised.
His pulse spiked, his breathing uneven. “Get me my phone.”
The nurse hesitated. “Mr. Blackwood, you just woke up from—”
“Get. Me. My. Phone.”
The authority in his voice left no room for argument. Within seconds, the nurse handed him the device.
Mav’s fingers trembled as he unlocked it and dialed Isa’s number.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
Voicemail.
A cold dread settled into his bones. He called again. And again.
Nothing.
His grip on the phone tightened. Where the hell was she?
A Truth That Shatters
Days passed. Mav searched everywhere. He asked the hospital staff, checked every place she had taken him before—the small café she liked, the park where they sat for hours, even the apartment she had been renting.
Gone.
No trace. No explanation.
And then… his mother arrived.
“I heard you’ve been looking for her,” she said, taking a seat beside him, a glass of wine in her hand as if this was just another social visit.
Mav didn’t respond. He had no patience for her games.
She sighed. “Oh, sweetheart. I hate to see you like this. But maybe it’s time to accept the truth.”
His jaw clenched. “What truth?”
She swirled the wine in her glass, her expression perfectly composed. “That girl… Isa. She was never here for you, Mav.”
His entire body went rigid.
“I warned you about people like her,” his mother continued. “She was kind to you, yes, but only because she knew who you were. What you were.”
Mav’s hands curled into fists. “Stop.”
His mother didn’t. “I gave her a blank check, Mav. Told her she could take whatever amount she wanted. And do you know what she did?”
His breath hitched.
“She took it.”
The words hit him harder than any physical blow.
No.
No, Isa wouldn’t—
Would she?
His mind screamed at him to fight back, to deny it, to push away the poisonous words his mother was weaving into his thoughts. But doubt—doubt was cruel. It sank its claws deep, whispering possibilities he never wanted to consider.
His mother reached out, brushing his cheek with cold fingers. “You have to let this go, darling. She’s not coming back.”
Mav barely felt her touch.
Because for the first time since waking up, he realized something terrifying.
Isa was gone.
And he had no idea if she had ever truly been his in the first place.
- Writer
