Rossi One: Kian's Little Sky

79. heartbreakingly tender

Third Person's PoV

Sky awoke to the sterile whiteness of the hospital room, the events of the previous day crashing over her like relentless waves. The echo of Officer Martin’s words, revealing her father as a suspect, reverberated in her mind, a haunting refrain that refused to be silenced.

As the reality of her loss and betrayal settled in, a torrent of anger and blame surged within her. She thought of Kian, his decision to fire her from the job that could have funded her trip back to Canada, to be with her mother. “If only Kian hadn’t fired m-me,” she murmured, the bitterness in her voice palpable. “I would’ve been working, saving, flying back to rescue h-her.”

“Matteo, why did you listen to him? Why did you ask me to talk that day?” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I s-should’ve been on my flight, not d-delayed by a bus accident.”

The weight of her choices, influenced by her love for Kian, now felt like shackles. “I was a f-fool,” she confessed to the empty room, “for believing that Kian would love me, that he would never leave me. But h-he already did, in so many ways.”

Tears streamed down her face as she grappled with the harsh truth that her love for Kian had blinded her to the reality of her situation, leaving her stranded in a foreign country while her mother needed her most. The pain of this realization was a new wound, one that would take time and strength to heal.

Sky lay there, the pain in her heart a relentless tide, each thought a wave crashing against her battered spirit. “How could everything happen l-like this?” she pondered, her voice a mere whisper lost in the vastness of her solitude. “How could I be so unlucky in everyt-thing—family, love, friends?”

The questions circled in her mind, vultures over a desolate landscape. She recalled leaving her mother four years ago, a decision that now haunted her with every labored beat of her heart. “I’m unworthy of h-her love,” Sky admitted to the silence, a confession to the universe. “I was a selfish brat, and maybe… maybe I deserve all of this p-pain.”

Sky’s thoughts spiraled, each one a sharp reminder of her solitude. “Why has all of this happened in such a s-short amount of time?” she questioned the indifferent walls. “Why do I keep making the wrong d-decisions?”

Her mind replayed every choice, every turn she had taken, leading her to this moment of profound loss. Trusting Kian, leaving her mother in the care of a man whose cruelty was now laid bare; these decisions haunted her. “Losing someone you love is like a thousand needles in the heart,” she thought, feeling the acute sting of each imagined needle.

Sky’s heart, now broken, seemed beyond repair. The trust she had placed in Kian, the distance she had put between herself and her mother, it all compounded into a deep, unyielding ache. “I can never m-mend it again,” she whispered, a vow to the shattered pieces of her heart that lay scattered within her.

The door creaked open, but Sky couldn’t muster the strength to see who it was. Her world had narrowed to the pain within her, a pain that seemed to eclipse everything else.

“Sky,” a voice called out, a voice laden with sorrow and regret. It was Kian. She knew it without looking. His presence filled the room, but she couldn’t face him, couldn’t bear to see the sadness in his eyes that she knew mirrored her own.

“Sky, please,” Kian implored, his voice closer now. But she remained still, her gaze fixed on the impersonal ceiling, a blank canvas against the turmoil inside her.

Kian’s voice cracked as he continued, “I’m so sorry. I’ve failed you, failed us.”

But the words were just echoes to Sky, distant and hollow. She felt adrift, untethered from the love that had once been her anchor. In her heart, where warmth once resided, there was now only an icy void.