If the Sun Has Faded Away (UNDER REWRITING)

Chapter 32: Walking away

I buried my head in my hands, unable to bear the excruciating pain that clawed at my insides. Tears streamed down my cheeks, hot and heavy, unstoppable.
"Please God... rescue her... don't take her away from me."

The prayer slipped from my lips before I even knew I was saying it. I, who had sworn off praying years ago, was begging the God I no longer believed in. It was absurd. But in that moment, desperation had overtaken reason.

I'd severed my relationship with God the day I lost Julia.

From the moment she died, my anger toward Him had grown fiercer with every passing day. How could He have taken my mother from me, and now—now, He was about to take Lucy, too? I had given up on Him, and it seemed like He had given up on me as well.

Maybe He was as furious with me as I was with Him. Maybe that's why this was happening. But it wasn't fair—wasn't it enough that He'd taken my mother? Why Lucy?

I raised my tear-streaked face to the ceiling, staring blindly upward.
"Don't you dare do this to me!" I shouted, my voice cracking in the hollow emptiness of the hospital room. "Do you understand?"

"John?"

A soft voice snapped me out of my frenzied thoughts. I instantly recognized it.

"Alice..." My voice was little more than a whisper as I turned toward her. She was standing just a couple of inches away, her expression a mix of concern and confusion.

She rushed toward me, sitting beside me with her gaze locked on mine. Her eyes—soft but intense—searched me, sweeping across the room as if expecting to find someone else there.

"Were you talking to someone?" she asked, her voice tentative.

I stiffened under her scrutiny. I had been caught. Not just by anyone, but by Alice, who had already seen me at my most vulnerable. The last thing I wanted was more pity from her—or anyone.

"No," I said, trying to sound sure of myself. "No one."
But my voice faltered, and I knew I wasn't convincing.

She looked at me, a long silence stretching between us. Her concern pierced through me, making me feel exposed.

"Aren't you supposed to be on your next intervention?" I tried to deflect. "You know... saving lives instead of hovering over your favorite rock star?" My voice had a forced bite to it, a crude joke meant to keep her away from what I was really feeling.

But the truth, the crushing truth, was that Lucy's fate was out of my hands. And I couldn't bear the weight of that.

Alice didn't flinch. She shook her head gently, her eyes filling with a sadness that I didn't want to acknowledge.

"John, please don't." Her voice was soft but firm.

I recoiled inwardly at her compassion, feeling the edges of my raw fear begin to tear through me again. I didn't want her to see me like this. Not Alice.

"Don't what?" I shot back defensively.

"Hide," she said simply, her eyes locking onto mine. "Behind that famous, nasty humor of yours."

I scoffed, though it sounded hollow even to me. "Oh, you think you know me that well?"

She didn't back down. "I believe I do."

I wanted to lash out, push her away. The fear, the helplessness—it was too much to handle. I didn't want anyone to see it. Especially not Alice.

"You know John the Beatle," I spat, suddenly cold. "But you don't know a damn thing about me."