❝𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓'𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒓.❞
━━━━━━━━━━
There's a saying that one is entitled to keep whatever they find but the question is: can you always keep what you find?
Wren Ashenherst was raised as a boy and expected to live under the...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
his warped attachment
───────────────
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
After taking his medication, Aillard was fast asleep. I stayed with him until he was deep in his slumber and when I was sure that he wouldn't stir awake due to any other reasons, I removed my hand from his and left the room. Stepping into the kitchen, I dialled Jeremiah's number and the other party picked up the call shortly after a few rings. A playful greeting followed, "Hello adorable birdie, how have you been?"
"Jeremiah," I exhaled. "I called to talk about Aillard."
"He had another episode this morning," I reported accordingly before asking, "Didn't you say that he had been alright?"
Silence. Jeremiah hadn't said anything thereafter and I knew that these two had been fooling me all this while. My fingers closed into a tight fist and I was clenching so hard on nothing that my knuckles paled. More than I was trusted at Jeremiah and Aillard, I was angry at myself. I should've known him well enough to expect that he would lie about it to me. Trying to conceal the tremble in my voice, I asked, "How bad was it?"
"Wren—"
"I want to know, Jeremiah," I pleaded, feeling the tears rushing to my eyes. "I need to know."
"Everything sort of went down when you left. Aillard was persistently anxious, antsy and sometimes, almost desperate," Jeremiah explained. "The amount of stress and pressure that he was placing on himself had worsened his asthma."
"No wonder he looked so worn down. Aillard hasn't been eating and sleeping well, has he?"
"Aillard had been trying his hardest with everything, Wren. He may still have some relapses but as long as he's kept in check, all is good."
"He doesn't look fine at all," I said curtly.
"But this man loved you more than he loved himself — more than he would love anyone else. No matter how much he needed you in the past three years, he wouldn't let himself shatter the best life he hoped for you to lead," Jeremiah sighed.
