Captive

chapter 52

Final Goodbye

Jeff sat at the edge of his bed, the darkness of the room pressing against him. The faint glow of the city lights seeped through the curtains, casting fragile shadows on the walls. He hadn’t slept, the events of the past days replaying relentlessly in his mind. His body ached from exhaustion, but the real pain was deeper—lodged in his chest, heavy and unrelenting.

A soft knock on the door made him look up. He hesitated, heart pounding, before he pushed himself to his feet and opened the door.

Pong stood there, eyes somber, a tightness in his jaw that Jeff recognized immediately: restraint. Pong was holding something back, and Jeff knew it was because of him.

“Hey,” Jeff murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Can I come in?” Pong’s tone was careful, distant.

Jeff stepped aside, allowing him in. Pong walked to the center of the room, his gaze fixed on the floor. The silence between them was thick, heavy with words left unsaid. Jeff shut the door quietly, feeling the weight of the conversation that was about to happen.

Pong finally spoke, his voice soft. “I know things have been… hard. You’ve been through a lot.”

Jeff swallowed, his throat tight. “I’m sorry, Pong. For everything I put you through. For… for hurting you.”

Pong’s shoulders tensed. He turned around, his eyes meeting Jeff’s with a mixture of hurt and understanding. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. But you did.”

Jeff’s chest tightened. “I never wanted to—”

Pong raised his hand gently, stopping him. “I came here because I care about you, Jeff. But maybe… maybe you need space. Maybe we need space. You have too much on your shoulders right now, and I can’t be another burden.”

Jeff’s heart clenched. The words cut through him, though he knew Pong was right. His world was collapsing, and the chaos he carried was bleeding into everything—into everyone.

Pong took a deep breath, his voice steady but pained. “I’ll manage the work for a while. You need to take care of yourself. Figure things out. I’ll be here if you need me… but from a distance.”

Jeff voice was a whisper. “Thank you.”

Pong offered a small, sad smile. “You don’t have to thank me.” He lingered for a moment, his eyes softening before he turned to leave. The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence in the room grew louder.

Hours passed. Jeff lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind numb. He didn’t know if he was relieved or heartbroken. Maybe both. The pain of letting Pong go mixed with the guilt of knowing he had pushed him away.

The shrill ring of his phone jolted him out of his haze. He grabbed it from the nightstand and saw Mile’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hello?” Jeff’s voice was raspy.

Mile’s words came in a rushed, panicked tone. “Jeff—Pong’s been in an accident.”

The world tilted. Jeff sat up, his breath caught in his throat. “What? What happened?”

“There was a crash. He… he was on his way back when it happened. I don’t have all the details yet, but it’s bad. They took him to the hospital.”

Jeff’s heart pounded so hard he thought it might burst. The room felt like it was closing in on him. “Which hospital?”

Mile told him, and before Jeff knew it, he was on his feet, grabbing his jacket with trembling hands. The phone nearly slipped from his grip as he hung up.

No. Not Pong.

The guilt clawed at his insides as he raced out the door, his mind consumed by one thought: He came to help me, and now he’s hurt.

The night air hit his face as he ran toward the street, but nothing could shake the growing dread in his chest. The world, already crumbling, was threatening to collapse entirely.

Jeff’s fingers curled around the cold edge of the hospital bench, his knuckles white from the pressure. The fluorescent lights above hummed quietly, casting a sterile, lifeless glow on everything. The air was thick, suffocating him as he sat motionless, unable to process what the doctor had just told him.

Pong was gone.

The words echoed endlessly in his mind, refusing to settle into reality. He kept expecting to wake up, to snap out of this nightmare, to see Pong standing there with that familiar, steady smile, ready to reassure him that everything was going to be okay.

But the silence was relentless. It confirmed everything he didn’t want to believe.

Mile’s hand rested gently on his shoulder, but the warmth didn’t reach him. “Jeff…” Mile’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. “They said it was instant. He didn’t suffer.”

Jeff’s eyes were glazed, fixed on a spot on the floor. His jaw clenched as a tear slipped down his cheek. “He was just here. We talked… he said he’d give me space.”

Guilt clawed at his chest, sharp and unyielding. He blinked, tears falling freely now. “I pushed him away. He left because of me.”

Mile knelt beside him, his voice low and firm. “Don’t do that to yourself. Pong cared about you. He wouldn’t want you to carry this.”

Jeff’s lips trembled, his voice breaking. “I should’ve stopped him. I should’ve told him not to leave.”

The hospital doors slid open with a mechanical hiss, and the sound of footsteps and quiet voices filled the space. But to Jeff, it all felt distant, like he was trapped in a glass box, the world moving on without him.

He closed his eyes, memories of Pong flooding his mind. The laughter they shared, the quiet conversations, the comfort of a friendship that had once felt unshakeable. And now, it was gone. Just like that.

Jeff’s heart felt like it was shattering piece by piece, the pain too much to bear.

Hours later, Jeff stood alone in the cold night air, the wind biting at his skin. The city lights blurred through his tears. He took a shaky breath, his voice barely a whisper.

“I’m sorry, Pong. I’m so sorry.”

A part of him was gone now—a friend, a confidant, someone who had tried to hold him together when everything else was falling apart. And Jeff knew he would carry this loss forever.

He looked up at the night sky, the stars faintly visible beyond the haze. For the first time, he felt truly alone.

And he wasn’t sure how he would ever find his way back.