Lethal Obsession

Epilogue

"But man is not made for defeat. A man can be destroyed but not defeated." ― Ernest Hemingway

Epilogue

The sound of heels pounding on the floor spread through the dark hallway. The weather was getting colder and the heating did not make the place any less creepy. There was no one around which contributed to the anxiety spreading through my body. The lighting was dim, and the air was dominated by the smell of fear.

After a few minutes of walking, I finally arrived at my wanted destination. The room was spacious, bigger than any cafeteria or restaurant I had ever visited. The metal tables were at a decent distance from each other, and for each, there were two chairs of the same material. Most of them were occupied, which partly explained why I did not meet any people on the way there.

After a few seconds of looking around in search of the person I had come for, I finally spotted him. He sat in the corner of the room with his eyes lost, as if his thoughts were somewhere far away. He looked so different yet so familiar. Something in my chest hurt at the sight.

Sighing deeply, I headed towards him, my heels loudly letting everyone know who I was. However, he did not notice me. He was so engrossed in his fantasy that he never looked at me, until the moment when I sat down on a chair opposite him.

I didn't say anything, I didn't even have to, my presence alone was enough to make his shoulders tense and his face wake up abruptly and make the expression I knew so well. He lit up, his eyes finally getting color, but there was something sad in them that could break everyone's heart. Everyone but mine.

"How's the physical therapy going?" I asked him after a long silence. I didn't want to make him laugh, my plan was more to provoke him. Sitting across from me in a wheelchair he looked like a poor, harmless creature. Unfortunately, that could not be further from the truth. "You are not in the mood for talking? Pity."

He ran his eyes over every inch of my face and body, stopping at my, now short, hair, which barely reached my shoulders. I thought it looked good on me, but the sad gleam in his eyes made me clench my fists. I knew what he was thinking, the weight on my heart was good enough proof.

"They say it'll take time, but there is a chance of you walking again," I continued, looking him straight in the eye, even though his gaze was still fixed on my hair. "I, on the other hand, hope you won't," I told him in a neutral voice, but the poison in it was absolutely recognizable to someone who knew me as much as he did.

"You failed, Mateo," I told him in a strong, determined voice, the kind he had never heard before.

That was enough to finally break him out of the trance he was in. He looked directly into my eyes and allowed me to see the torrent of emotions that were boiling in his. Sadness, longing, love, suffering, but also anger and remorse. He didn't regret doing all those things to me, no, he regretted losing me for it.

"You tried to destroy me, break me, kill me, but you didn't succeed in any," I smiled a true smile, never taking my eyes off his dark orbs. He didn't speak, he didn't have to. The painful grimace on his face was enough for me to understand his feelings and I enjoyed every single one.

"The only thing left after the accident are barely visible scars, reminders of what you did to me, reminders that I came out of it all as a winner." Every word I spoke hurt him even more than the last. I knew him well enough to make out the small changes on his face.

Still, his silence was bringing the worst out of me. He did so much to me, I went through so many things because of him, I felt too much pain for him to just look at me silently and say nothing. Rare were the moments when he showed compassion, but I expected at least that much from him. I did not hope for an apology, much less repentance, but I thought that maybe just once in his life, he would act like a man. I was wrong.