Where Destiny Forgot Us 9

Where Destiny Forgot Us 9 Summary

Beckett remained unconscious for three days due to hypothermia, during which he lost all memory of recent events. When he finally awoke, his first concern was the Evernite Bloom, a cure he sought desperately. The narrator revealed she had fed it to the dogs, sparking a tense confrontation. Beckett tried to find another, but she slapped him and expressed deep bitterness, accusing him of causing her immense pain and insisting she did not want his help.

 

Their painful exchange escalated as Beckett asked if she truly hated him, to which she affirmed, showing a scar as proof of her suffering caused by him. In a dramatic gesture, Beckett stabbed his own hand, asking if it made her feel better, but she remained cold and detached. After a long silence, Beckett quietly left Sierra Haven before dawn, ending their fraught connection.

 

Months later, the narrator received a call from Vivian informing her of Beckett’s death. She traveled to Westlake City, numb with disbelief at his funeral. Vivian, appearing worn and aged, explained that Beckett’s death was due to hereditary organ failure, a fate shared with his father. She revealed Beckett’s regret over a love he could never fulfill and handed over his will and a letter addressed to the narrator.

 

The will contained a single clause: the donation of all his blood for her use. The letter was brief but poignant, referencing a past promise that if he failed her, she would never see him again. Beckett urged her to live a long life despite their hatred. Overcome with emotion, the narrator whispered his name, reflecting on the Evernite Bloom and the painful sacrifices made between them.

Chapter 9

For three long days and nights, Beckett lay unconscious, his life hanging by the thinnest thread imaginable. The ordeal of hypothermia had wiped his memory clean—he remembered nothing of what had happened to him.

When he finally opened his eyes, the first thing he asked about was the Evernite Bloom, just as the others had been wondering. At that moment, I entered the room carrying his medicine, my expression unreadable. Without hesitation, I said, “I fed it to the dogs.”

Beckett’s gaze locked onto me, as if the entire world had ground to a halt. He threw off the blanket hastily and tried to push himself out of bed.

“I’ll find another one,” he insisted stubbornly.

No one could stop him. But I stepped forward and slapped him hard across the face.

“Beckett, do you really think I want you doing any of this for me?” I asked sharply.

“My condition isn’t some kind of miracle that needs curing,” I continued, voice steady but cold. “If you just stop bothering me and never show your face around me again, I’ll get better.”

“You’ve always been the one who hurt me the most,” I added bitterly.

His head jerked sideways from the slap, strands of dark hair falling over his forehead, hiding the pain flickering in his eyes. After a long, heavy silence, he finally spoke, his voice rough and raw.

“Avery, do you truly hate me that much?”

“Yes,” I said, lifting my right hand so he could see the ugly scar etched deep into my wrist. “Beckett, every bit of pain I’ve suffered is because of you.”

“You destroyed my entire life! Why wouldn’t I despise you? Why wouldn’t I hate you?” I spat, my voice trembling with anger and sorrow.

Beckett stared at the redness in my eyes, and without a word, he suddenly grabbed a fruit knife from the bedside table and plunged it into the back of his hand.

Blood splattered across the sheets, but he didn’t flinch.

“Does that make you feel any better?” he asked quietly.

I took a step back, eyeing his bleeding hand with a cold detachment. “Don’t touch me. You disgust me,” I said, echoing words he had once spoken to me.

His hand trembled slightly, and his eyes were rimmed with deep red exhaustion. He lowered his head, saying nothing more.

Before dawn the next day, Beckett packed his things and left Sierra Haven.

When the neighbor’s little sister came to inform me, I simply nodded. I never wanted any more ties to him. In this life, it was best to owe nothing and be owed nothing.

Three months later, I received an unexpected call from Westlake City. It was Vivian.

“Avery,” her voice sounded older, weighed down by fatigue. “Come see him.”

I frowned instinctively, suspecting Beckett was up to some dramatic stunt again. I was about to refuse when she whispered, “He’s dead.”

The moment my flight touched down in Westlake City, I felt numb, as if moving through a dream. It wasn’t until I attended Beckett’s funeral, standing there in silent disbelief, that the harsh truth finally sank in.

Vivian looked fragile, worn down far beyond what I remembered. Gray streaks had woven through her hair, and she caught me staring at Beckett’s photo, frozen in shock.

She came to stand beside me softly. “You might wonder why I never stopped him from chasing after you,” she said, her voice distant, almost lost in memory.

“Years ago, there was a man in this family who loved just as fiercely,” she continued. “But he was never allowed to act on it. Until his dying day, he never saw the one he longed for.”

“He left this world filled with regret.”

I lowered my gaze, swallowing the lump in my throat. “How did Beckett die?”

“Family genetics,” Vivian replied, her voice breaking. “His organs had already begun to fail before he left to find you. Just like his father.”

She pulled out a letter and a will. “He left these for you. Whether you read them or not is your choice.”

I stood frozen for a long moment before finally breaking the seal and unfolding the letter.

The will was brief, containing only one clause: the voluntary donation of all his blood, solely for my use.

My hands trembled as I opened the letter. I had expected pages filled with emotion, but instead, there were just a few lines:

[Avery, you once said if I ever failed you, you would make sure I could never see you again.]

[This time, we really won’t see each other anymore.]

[Since you despise me so deeply, you must live a long, long life.]

My vision blurred, tears threatening to spill. I lifted my eyes to Beckett’s photo and whispered, barely audible, “Beckett…”

“The Evernite Bloom… I fed it to you.”