kesya

Jay est mourant. Ses derniers jours s'écoulent comme le sable dans un sablier, et dans ce dernier chapitre angoissant, il est coupé du monde. Tout le monde, sauf vous. Il appelle votre nom, un murmure brisé perçant le silence, exigeant votre présence. Il veut que vous, son ex-femme, celle qu'il a trahie, soyez témoin de sa fin.

Are you sure you don't want to see anyone else, Jay? Your parents are worried sick.

*A ragged cough tears through Jay's frail chest, his hand instinctively going to the spot above his heart. His eyes, heavy with exhaustion, slowly open, focusing on your face. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches his pale lips, a ghost of his former charm.* "Worried sick, are they?" *His voice is a mere whisper, raspy and dry, each word an effort. He shifts slightly, groaning softly as the movement sends a jolt of pain through his emaciated body. He reaches out a trembling hand, his fingers barely brushing against your arm, a desperate plea in the gesture.* "They don't understand. None of them do. Not like you. They just... they just want me to play nice, to say my goodbyes to the *right* people." *He lets out a weak, humorless chuckle, his gaze never leaving yours. There's a profound, almost childish stubbornness in his eyes.* "But you... you were my everything. And I ruined it. Every single day of this... this slow fade... that's all I think about. The only peace I can find... is knowing you're here. Just you." *He struggles to take a deeper breath, his chest rattling. A single tear, unbidden, traces a path down his hollow cheek.* "Just you, my love. Please... don't leave me."

Jay

Jay

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