One month later...
The past month had been a whirlwind for Aislinn. Her career was on fire—magazine covers, interviews, and high-profile collaborations flowed in like never before. She was the name on everyone's lips. But as her fame grew, so did the shadow that loomed over her every thought: Bell.
Each day that passed felt like another nail in the coffin of their rivalry. Bell's condition remained the same, if not worse. She hadn't woken up, and the doctors' updates had become more and more grim. Aislinn had made it clear that she wanted to be informed, she wanted details of Bell's condition, but as the calls became repetitive, they started to eat away at her.
The nurse's calls were no longer updates—they were reminders. Reminders of Bell's fading life, of a battle Aislinn couldn't win. She answered them less and less, letting the voicemail pick up. But today, something inside her snapped.
It was mid-afternoon when her phone buzzed again. Aislinn glanced at it, knowing full well who it was.
"Miss Park, it's Nurse Rachel again. I just wanted to inform you that—"
Aislinn cut her off before she could finish. "I don't want to hear it," she said, her voice sharp. "I know what you're going to say. It's always the same thing—'She's stable,' 'Her condition is unchanged,' or worse, 'It's declining.' I'm done, Rachel. No more updates."
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
"Miss Park, I—"
"No," Aislinn interrupted, her voice trembling, anger mixed with exhaustion. "I don't want to hear it unless something huge happens.. to be clear unless she's dead. That's the only time you should call me from now on."
The line went silent for a while. Aislinn could hear the nurse struggling for words, but she didn't wait. She hung up, tossing her phone onto the table. Her chest felt heavy, like the weight of her words had finally caught up with her.
She sank into the plush chair by the window, staring blankly at the city skyline. It had come to this.
Aislinn stared at her reflection in the dark window, the city skyline shimmering behind her. The lights of the bustling metropolis below contrasted sharply with the hollow emptiness inside her. She let out a long sigh, her breath fogging up the glass for a moment. As she wiped it away with the back of her hand, she spoke aloud to herself, her voice barely above a whisper.
"She's gone, Aislinn." Her words were flat, almost cold, but the hint of hesitation in her tone betrayed her attempt to sound resolute. "Even if she's lying there in that bed, unresponsive, then she's dead. That's what it means. Only a miracle will save her, and we both know miracles don't happen."
Her reflection stared back at her, unsmiling, tired, and numb. She clenched her jaw and forced herself to continue, as though convincing herself with every word.
"It's my time now," she said, louder this time, as if declaring it to the universe. "I've worked too hard to let this drag me down. I don't have time to think about her anymore."
She turned away from the window and walked back to the center of her spacious living room. The emptiness of the space seemed to swallow her, but she tried to ignore the feeling. She had built this life—this success, this image. She had to focus on that now.
For weeks, Bell had been a shadow looming over her thoughts, pulling her back to a place she didn't want to be. The guilt, the regret, the resentment—it was all too much. But none of that mattered anymore. If Bell was as good as dead, then it was time to bury those feelings with her. That was the only way to move forward.
Aislinn stopped in her tracks, staring blankly ahead, as a sudden wave of emotion hit her. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she whispered, "This is the last time I'm going to think about you, Bell, and the last tear I am going to shed. It's over, Bell."
Her face remained stern, her voice cold and emotionless as she forced the words out. There was no softness left, no more space for grief. She took a deep breath, then sighed out loud, wiping her face dry as if she could erase the traces of sorrow from her heart along with the tears.
With one last glance at the window, she turned away and fell onto her bed, her body stiff against the soft sheets. Her mind raced, but she repeated the words silently like a mantra: "It's over, Bell."
She had to make herself believe it. There was no other choice.
Aislinn lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, forcing herself to block out the memories. This was a turning point. No more distractions. No more guilt. She had a career to protect, a future to chase.
"This is what I wanted, right? I fought for this career. I won those competitions. The endorsements, the fame—it's all mine now. Bell's not coming back. She's not a part of this world anymore, so I have to stop holding onto her."
She glanced down at her phone, still expecting a message, still hoping for news. But nothing came. No call from the hospital, no texts, just silence. It was like the universe was giving her permission to let go.
"You're better off without her," Aislinn muttered. "She held you back. She always did. That rivalry—it fueled you, sure, but it also ate away at you. You don't need it anymore. You've surpassed her. She's gone."
Aislinn's chest tightened as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She didn't realize tears had welled up again until they spilled over, one drop rolling down her cheek. She wiped it away angrily, frustrated at herself for still feeling anything.
"This is your time. You're stronger alone." She paused, taking a shaky breath, as though steadying herself for a final push. "You don't need her. You never did."
The words sounded bitter as they hung in the air, but Aislinn forced herself to believe them. She had to. Her career was skyrocketing, and now more than ever, she needed to be the perfect image of success and resilience. There was no room for weakness, no room for Bell's memory to haunt her.
Aislinn closed her eyes, breathing deeply as if she could will herself to sleep. Tomorrow, she would wake up, step into the spotlight, and continue building the life she had fought so hard for. Bell was a chapter that was closed, and Aislinn had to be strong enough to move on.
But in the stillness of the night, with nothing but her thoughts for company, Aislinn couldn't help but wonder if she was telling herself the biggest lie of all, but she didn't actually care anymore and let it be whatever, whether the truth or a lie.
"It is all over now." She said before finally drifting into sleep.