My darling Allyssa

Happily Ever After

*ALLYSSA*

I gently open my eyes, the soft sunlight streaming into the room, and find Ava sitting by my side, enjoying some fruit while messaging someone on her phone.

"Baby tonight, I'll be the best you've ever had. I don't wanna brag, but I'll be the best you've ever had." The room is adorned with an abundance of white roses, I feel like I'm floating on them.

"Ava, please," Akira urges from the couch, where she supports a peacefully sleeping Ambi, while Hannah watches the news on TV.

Ava shrugs, popping a grape into her mouth. "I am the best he's had. He just couldn't resist coming back for more," she teases, and someone gags.

"Okay, enough with that," Hannah chimes in.

"No, no, please continue," I interject. They all look at me with surprise, quickly rushing to my side, enveloping me in a hug.

"Don't you dare scare us like that again, Harper," Ava says, her voice shaking with emotion.

"I promise I won't," I reply.

"You better not," Akira adds, her voice soft but stern.

"Good now we should focus on your recovery," Ambi advises, wiping away a tear that escapes her eye.

Once the doctor leaves, I glance at myself in the mirror, cringing slightly at my dishevelled appearance. "I look like a zombie," I mutter, earning chuckles from them.

"You're awake, that's all that matters," Akira says, her eyes reflecting genuine relief.

"Ava wanted to put some makeup on you, but we decided against it," Hannah states.

"Thank goodness" I joke

"You lot don't see the vision. I was going for a Bella Swan type of look." Ava begins to explain but all I can think about is William.

I regret expressing those words. I did not intend to say most of what I said. My emotions got the better of me, leading to impulsive and hurtful words. I hope it's not too late.

*WILLIAM*

FIVE MONTHS LATER

Akira sits across from me, dressed in a perfectly tailored black power suit, clicking her pen rhythmically. "For the record, buying people's places of work won't always get you what you want," she asserts.

We both know that's a lie.

Since Allyssa emerged from her coma, I find myself unable to confront her. Each evening, I send a bouquet of her favourite flowers, accompanied by a letters and a gift- it always comes back.

Regrettably, she hasn't graced our home with her presence or shown any inclination to move out. I've adorned her closet with  diamond, emerald and ruby necklaces, bracelets, anklets and watches.

Birkin bags in matching sets, sumptuous fur coats, and a lavish array of shoes and clothing. If, by some miracle, I muster the courage to face her and she extends her forgiveness, she will be met with a testament of my materialistic remorse.

"Why exactly are you here?" she inquires, her curiosity piqued.

"Is it that surprising?" I respond, sinking into the plush couch. The rhythmic clicks of Akira's pen fill the room, punctuating the air with a sense of anticipation.

"Well, you don't strike me as someone who seeks advice or willingly talks about themselves or their problems," she observes, and I casually flick a small piece of lint off my navy blue suit.

Her inquisitive gaze remains on me, the intensity in her eyes betraying her calm exterior. "What brings you here, then?" she presses, breaking the silence after my pause.