I'm sorry...for everything

[3]

Author's note:
In the first passage the cursive words reference the past and the non-cursive words the presence.
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Sand could remember that day so clearly as if it had happened just yesterday. The memory had burned itself into his mind so deeply that he was certain that he would never forget the events of that fateful day.

As soon as Ray had abruptly ended the call, Sand's heart leaped into his throat, a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. Without a second thought, he revved up his bike and raced to Ray's mansion, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. With each passing second, his dread intensified, fueling his urgency to reach Ray before it was too late.

When he arrived, the sight of smoke billowing from the building sent alarm bells ringing in Sand's mind. Without hesitation, he dialed emergency services, his hands trembling as he made the call. Then, heedless of his own safety, he charged into the inferno, his mind consumed by a single, driving thought: he had to rescue Ray.

Navigating the smoke-filled stairwell, Sand ascended to Ray's room, his lungs burning with each breath. Sand pressed his shirt tightly against his mouth and nose in a futile attempt to filter out the acrid smoke.

Sand threw the door open that revealed the angry fire roaring in Ray's room filled with smoke. Despite the blinding thick smoke, Sand immediately spotted Ray lying motionless amidst the chaos, his expression peaceful amidst the encroaching flames.

"Ray!!!" Sand called out, his voice drowned out by the crackling of the fire. Coughing from the smoke, his mind clouded by lack of oxygen, and Sand's desperation surged. With reckless abandon, he charged through the inferno, his skin burning with every step. Adrenaline surged through his veins, drowning out the pain as he reached Ray's side, his hands fumbling as he dragged the other from the engulfed bed.

With Ray slung over his shoulder, Sand stumbled through the inferno, each step a battle against the flames that threatened to consume them both. His own pain forgotten in the urgency of the moment, Sand continued to run until he finally emerged into the cool night air, the distant wail of sirens signaling the arrival of help. Gasping for breath, Sand collapsed to his knees, the weight of their ordeal crashing down upon him. Relief washed over him in waves as he cradled Ray's limp form, the gravity of their ordeal sinking in.

He had done it. He hadn't been too late; he had managed to save Ray.

Or had he?

Sand cast a weary gaze down at his arms, tracing the faint red marks that marred his skin. Though the burns had long since healed, their presence remained a stark reminder of the harrowing events of that fateful day, an indelible imprint etched into his flesh. It wasn't just Ray's life that had been altered by the inferno.

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"He's in stable condition now."

As the nurse delivered the long-awaited news, Sand felt a weight lift from his chest, the lump in his throat dissolving like magic.

"What?" His voice, strained from disuse after nearly two weeks of silence, struggled to form the word.

"I've been taking care of the patient, and today he regained consciousness from the coma." The nurse explained gently. "He's still somewhat groggy, but he's stable and, aside from a few burn marks, he's expected to make a full recovery. I assure you, he's going to be alright."

Relief flooded through Sand, washing away the anxiety and fear that had consumed him for days. Ray was alive, and he was going to be fine. That was all Sand needed to hear.