FATED TO BE YOURS

Chapter 59: Rage of the Truth

As Mon descended the stairs, determination etched on her face, her parents' concerned voices echoed in the living room. "Where are you going?" they inquired, their worry palpable.

With a sense of purpose, Mon met their gaze. "I'm going to stay at Sam's house until she gets home," she explained, her voice resolute.

Her parents' concern deepened, their worry for her well-being evident. "But you might feel more depressed alone there," they cautioned.

Mon shook her head, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "I want to be there when Sam gets home," she insisted. "I want to be the first person to welcome her back."

With a determined stride, Mon picked up her luggage and headed towards the door, her heart filled with hope and determination. She knew that by being there for Sam, she could make a difference, even in the midst of uncertainty.

As Mon wandered through Sam's house, her heart brimming with hope and anticipation, every corner seemed to whisper of the future they had planned together. She envisioned their love blossoming within these walls, this house transforming into their sanctuary once they were married.

Her steps slowed as she passed by a photo of Sam, her fingers instinctively reaching out to touch it. "I miss you so much," she murmured softly, her words a prayer into the emptiness of the house. "When will you come home?"

Suddenly, the sound of the doorbell shattered the stillness, jolting Mon out of her reverie. With a quickening pulse, she rushed to the door, her heart racing with the hope that this unexpected visitor might bring news of Sam's return.

Mon's heart skipped a beat as she approached the door, her mind racing with anticipation. With trembling hands, she swung it open, her eyes widening in disbelief as she came face to face with Kirk.

"Kirk?" she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper, her shock palpable.

Kirk's expression was a mix of apprehension and remorse as he met Mon's gaze. "Mon," he murmured, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Can we talk?"

Mon's voice quivered with a mix of frustration and desperation as she confronted Kirk. "What should we talk about?" she demanded, her eyes searching his face for answers. "You know Sam isn't here."

Kirk's response was measured, his gaze steady as he acknowledged the truth. "I know Sam isn't here," he admitted quietly. "And I know you've been looking for her for a long time now."

The tension between them hung heavy in the air, each word laden with unspoken emotions as they grappled with the gravity of the situation. With Sam's absence casting a long shadow over their conversation, the weight of their shared concern pressed down on them, leaving them both feeling trapped in a web of uncertainty.

Mon's heart pounded in her chest as she and Kirk settled into the living room, the air thick with tension and anticipation. With a deep breath, Kirk began to speak, his voice heavy with regret.

"I need to apologize," he began, his words weighed down by the burden of confession. "For what happened before." He paused, steeling himself for what he was about to reveal. "I orchestrated the car accident," he admitted, his admission hanging in the air like a heavy shroud.

Mon's words cut through the tension like a knife, her voice tinged with bitterness as she addressed Kirk's confession. "I've already moved on from that," she declared, her tone sharp with sarcasm. "Since no one got hurt."

A bitter irony colored her next words as she continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I should be thanking you, shouldn't I?" she scoffed. "Thanks to that accident, Sam and I got the chance to patch things up."

The air crackled with unresolved tension as Mon's words hung between them, each syllable heavy with the weight of their shared history and the tumultuous emotions that had brought them to this moment.

A heavy sigh escaped Kirk's lips as he reached into his pocket, retrieving an envelope and holding it out to Mon with trembling hands. "There's one more thing I need to apologize for," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Curiosity mingled with apprehension as Mon accepted the envelope, her fingers shaking as she tore it open. Her breath caught in her throat as she scanned the contents, her eyes widening in shock as she met Kirk's gaze with furrowed brows.

With a heavy heart, Kirk began to untangle the web of secrets he had kept hidden for so long, each word a painful admission of his deception and betrayal. As the truth spilled from his lips, the air grew heavy with the weight of their shared past, and the uncertain future that lay before them.

Mon's world shattered as Kirk's words pierced through the air like daggers. "Sam has been comatose for a month already," he confessed, his voice heavy with sorrow and regret.

Shock and disbelief washed over Mon, leaving her paralyzed with grief. "No," she whispered, her voice barely audible as she struggled to comprehend the enormity of Kirk's revelation.

But Kirk's revelations didn't end there. With a heavy heart, he continued, his voice trembling with emotion. "Sam's grandmother arranged for a medical transfer to the US for more advanced treatment," he revealed, each word laden with the weight of their collective despair.

Mon's breaths came in ragged gasps as she struggled to process Kirk's revelations. The room felt suffocating, each word he uttered adding to the weight of her disbelief.

Kirk's voice quivered as he recounted the events of that fateful day, his guilt evident in every syllable. "I was with Sam when she had her recent fatal attack," he confessed, his words heavy with remorse. "We argued, and the weight of her emotions caused her to pass out."

The weight of Kirk's confession hung heavy in the air, suffocating Mon with its gravity. "Grandmother tasked me to update you on what happened," he admitted, his voice laced with shame, "but I didn't do that."

Mon's response was measured, her tone reserved as she posed the question that weighed heavily on her mind. "Why?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart heavy with sorrow and confusion.

Mon's hands clenched into fists at her sides as she listened to Kirk's words, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. She forced herself to maintain a facade of composure, unwilling to let Kirk see the full extent of her fury.

Kirk's hopeful words grated on her nerves, each syllable fueling the fire of her resentment. "I hope that when Sam realizes you're not with her during this trial, she'll see that I'm the one who stayed with her," he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation.

With each passing moment, her resolve wavered, the torrent of emotions threatening to engulf her. Kirk's plea for forgiveness fell on deaf ears as Mon struggled to contain the storm raging within her.

When Kirk handed her another envelope, Mon's curiosity peaked, but she remained guarded. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, her voice tinged with suppressed rage.

Kirk's explanation only fueled the fire burning inside her. "I've arranged everything to make it up to you," he pleaded, his words falling on deaf ears. "Someone will pick you up at the airport to bring you to where Sam is. Please take care of Sam for me"

Mon's jaw clenched as she fought to keep her anger in check. His attempts to atone for his sins did little to assuage her fury. "Take care of Sam?" she echoed bitterly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "After everything you've done?"

With a heavy heart, she accepted the flight tickets, her anger smoldering beneath a thin veneer of civility. "I'll take care of Sam," she bit out, her words laced with venom. "But don't expect forgiveness from me. Please leave my wife's house now!"