BELLY
My heart hurt at the sight of him. It was the first time in three years I was seeing him physically. Multiple times, I begged to see him at the hospital, yet of all his rejections, none was more painful than him refusing to come see me on my last day.
Dr. Cruz told me he did come after 'my death.' He probably felt the detachment when my heart stopped beating. I wondered why he had cared enough to show up at all. Maybe he had only wanted to make sure I was truly dead so he could move on with the love of his life without guilt scratching at his door.
Everyone bowed their heads and kept it that way until he moved, further stepping into the restaurant. By the skies, no. I couldn't be seen here anymore.
Ignoring the ache in my chest and the terrible, stupid urge to keep looking at him
