Page 40 of Saved By The King's Gamma

For a moment, we stay frozen in that position, our bodies tense and our eyes locked. The tip of the knife presses against my chest, over my heart.

“My heart isn’t worth beating if yours isn’t. More than my life,” I repeat her words back to her, my voice firm yet filled with an emotion I can barely contain.

“So, what’s it gonna be? Are you going to kill me? Because I can’t live without you. My heart only beats for you.”

Her lips quiver, tears streaming down her face as she looks at me, the knife trembling in her grasp. The weight of her decision hangs in the air between us, a palpable tension that threatens to consume us both. In this moment, I realize the depth of her pain, the darkness she’s been fighting alone.

But she’s not alone, not anymore. I’m here, willing to bear the burden of her pain, to stand by her side through the darkness until we find the light together. “Abbie, please,” I whisper, my voice breaking with the intensity of my plea. “I need you more than my life. We can get through this together.”

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Abbie lets out a sob and drops the knife to the floor.

“I can’t,” she cries out, falling to her knees as tears stream down her face. “I can’t do it.”

Without hesitation, I drop to the ground beside her and wrap my arms around her trembling form. It breaks my heart to see her like this - so broken and vulnerable.

“It’s okay,” I whisper soothingly into her hair as she clings to me for dear life.

“You’re not alone, Abbie. You’ll never be alone again,” I promise her, my voice steady.

I love her, and I’ll do whatever it takes to see her smile again, to see her realize how truly beautiful and strong she is.

Abbie clings to me on the floor, her sobs finally quieting until only her uneven breathing remains. Her small body trembles in my arms, and I hold her tighter, as if somehow my embrace alone can shield her from the storm raging inside her. I kiss the top of her head gently, murmuring quiet reassurances, even though I know my words probably won’t reach her right now.

She’s lost in her own mind, in her pain. I can see it in her vacant expression, feel it in the way her fingers twitch restlessly against my chest as if she doesn’t know what to do with herself anymore. It tears me apart, this helplessness, but I won’t give up on her. I refuse to give up on her.

I let her cry it out, holding her until her trembling eases. After a while, I gently help her up and lead her back to the kitchen. She moves like she’s on autopilot, her steps slow and her eyes distant. I sit her at the table and grab the plate of food I prepared earlier. The steak has gone cold, but I don’t care. What matters is getting her to eat something.

I set the plate in front of her, but as I sit beside her, I hesitate. My eyes flick to the silverware, and a deep worry gnaws at my gut. After what just happened, I can’t risk giving her the knife, not when she’s still in this fragile state.

Taking a deep breath, I cut the steak into small pieces myself, then pick one up with my fingers and hold it out to her. Abbie stares at me blankly for a moment, as if she doesn’t understand what I’m doing.

“Come on, love,” I say softly. “You need to eat.”

She doesn’t react at first, but after a moment, she leans forward slightly, letting me feed her. She chews slowly, mechanically, as if she’s not really present. I keep feeding her piece by piece, not rushing her, just quietly offering her what she needs.

With each bite, she seems more distant, more lost in her thoughts. The weight of her silence presses down on me like a heavy stone, but I keep going, determined to get her through this one small act.

When she’s finished eating, I stand to take the dishes to the sink. I glance back at her as I rinse the plate, noting the vacant expression on her face, the way she stares into nothingness like she’s still trapped in her mind.

“I’m going to shower,” she murmurs suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alarm bells go off in my head immediately. I don’t trust her to be alone, not after what just happened. Not after she burned herself earlier. I dry my hands quickly and turn toward her.

“I’ll come with you,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm.

She shakes her head slightly, already heading toward the bathroom. “I’ll be fine.”

I’m about to argue, but before I can, the mindlink opens, and Liam’s voice comes through loud and clear.

“Hey, just checking in. How’s everything going over there?” Liam asks, his usual cheerfulness slightly muted.

I grit my teeth, watching Abbie disappear into the bathroom and hearing the click of the lock as she shuts the door behind her. Shit. I don’t like this.

“Not great,” I answer Liam through the mind-link as I move toward the bathroom door. “She hurt herself earlier. Burned her hand trying to… I don’t even know what she was thinking.” I bang on the door, trying to keep my voice steady despite the rising panic in my chest. “Abbie, unlock the door.”

There’s no response, and I feel Liam is listening in via the mindlink.

“She’s not answering, and I don’t trust her to be alone right now.”

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