It had been a month since Alena had regained consciousness.
Since that fragile first moment when her eyes blinked open, she had remained silent. Blank. Lost. Her soul seemed to have vanished somewhere between the screams, the pain, and the darkness she had endured. Every day that passed, she remained motionless, her eyes empty, lost, and faraway. Her body moved only when necessary under the careful guidance of the nurses.
The doctors had said to give her time. To be patient. Not to force her into speaking, smiling, or reacting. Let her heal slowly. They said it would take much longer for someone who had endured as much as she had, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally.
Kieran listened to these words, nodding silently. He didn't try to force her. He didn't demand responses, laughter, or gratitude. He simply let her be. But that didn't make the pain and guilt in his chest any less.
A private nurse had been appointed to take care of her 24/7. She fed her, cleaned her, dressed her, helped her move from bed to wheelchair, administered her medicines, and gently guided her to the backyard to breathe fresh air. Her leg was still plastered; she couldn't walk. Her body, though no longer in immediate danger, was still fragile, delicate, and recovering from injuries.
That evening, the nurse wheeled Alena into the garden. The sky was a muted canvas, the sun setting in soft streaks of orange and purple, casting a warm glow over the grass and trees. Alena's eyes were fixed straight ahead, empty, lost in thoughts Kieran couldn't reach, thoughts he couldn't imagine. She didn't react to the gentle breeze brushing her hair, the chirping of birds, or the soft rustling of the leaves.
The nurse spoke to her sweetly, softly, her voice full of warmth and comfort, but Alena didn't respond. She remained lost in herself, her fingers resting limply on her lap.
Kieran appeared then, stepping lightly into the garden. He smiled at the nurse. "I'll take care of her from here," he said.
The nurse smiled back, a quiet understanding in her eyes, and left, leaving the two of them in the garden, wrapped in the gentle glow of the fading sun.
Kieran sat on his knees before her, careful not to overwhelm her. His hands hovered for a moment before he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, brushing it gently aside. "How are you, Alena?" he asked softly, his smile warm but cautious.
She looked at him, but her gaze was empty. No flicker of recognition, no spark of emotion, nothing. Kieran's chest ached, but he kept that gentle smile on his face.
"Don't you want to talk to me?" he asked softly, still smiling.
Her lips parted slightly. Her voice came out faint, broken, tired. "Why are you doing this?"
Kieran blinked, caught off guard. "Doing what?" he asked, though he already knew the weight behind her words.
"Why are you taking care of me?" she asked again, voice hollow and distant. "Why are you putting so much effort into making me happy when I don't want to? There's no use in all this… because I don't feel anything. I don't have any hope left. I'm tired… I don't want to continue this journey. I want to free myself from this cruel world. I don't want to live anymore."
Her words fell like stones onto the fragile silence of the garden. Her eyes didn't waver; they were empty, dry, and far away.
Kieran's heart broke. He could feel how much she had broken from inside. He took both her hands in his, holding them gently but firmly, "I'm sorry for everything, Alena," he whispered, voice raw. "I'm guilty. Ashamed. I'm ashamed of putting you through all this misery." his voice low, he continued, "For that… you can punish me. I accept it. Any kind of punishment. But don't punish yourself like this. Don't lose yourself. Your life isn't finished, Alena. It's about to start. You've got a future ahead of you, a fucking life to live. Put yourself together. Let me heal your soul. Let me bring you back to life. Please… cooperate, Alena."
His voice cracked. He was almost begging now, voice trembling, eyes brimming with tears.
"There is nothing to hope for, nothing to live for," she said, her voice still blank, distant. "I don't see any meaning in living this life further. I'm tired. Don't waste your time and resources on me."
Kieran swallowed hard. He searched her eyes desperately, trying to find even a flicker of life, any hint of hope. But there was none. Only emptiness, vast and endless.
He brushed his thumb over the back of her hands again, gently, soothingly. "I want you to live, Alena. I want you to be happy. I'll do everything, try everything… to make you happy. I won't give up. Not ever. I believe in you. I believe in myself."
Her gaze met his, not with warmth, but with quiet observation. She was silent, yet he felt her awareness, even if her heart refused to open.
"You are my responsibility now," he said firmly, as if taking an oath. "I'll make sure you live a happy, meaningful life. This is my promise. The day I fail to keep this promise… I'll end myself."
Her lips didn't curl, her eyes didn't soften. The words didn't touch her yet. The wound in her soul was too wide, too deep. But his stubbornness, his unwavering commitment, pressed against the darkness surrounding her heart.
Kieran leaned forward, pressing his forehead lightly against her hand. He kissed her knuckles softly, a gentle, tender act of devotion. "I'll stay by you," he whispered. "I'll talk to you, laugh with you, sit in silence with you… whatever it takes. I won't leave your side. Ever. I'll fight for you, for your soul, until it wakes up again. Until you feel life. Until you feel happiness again."
Alena remained still. Silent. Her lips moved slightly, but no sound came. Her empty eyes blinked at him, not moving, not reacting.
But Kieran did not move. He stayed there, kneeling, talking softly, brushing her hair behind her ears, letting his words wrap around her like invisible warmth. "Do you want to sit in the garden today?" he asked softly, though he already knew she wouldn't speak. "We'll sit here, breathe, maybe the air will feel nice… maybe you'll remember what it feels like to be outside."
He wheeled her slowly along the paths of the garden, whispering little things, stories of the farmhouse, the birds, the sky. He told her about the roses blooming near the fountain, how the wind smelled like rain coming, how the cats had found a sunny spot by the shed.
Sometimes, he laughed quietly, making soft, gentle jokes, trying to make her smile even though he didn't expect it. Sometimes, he simply stayed silent with her, letting her be, keeping his hand on hers, grounding her in the only safety she had left.
"See?" he said softly, brushing a leaf from her lap. "It's a small world. Nothing here can hurt you. You're safe. You're free. You're alive."
Alena's eyes moved slightly, following the tip of his finger. It wasn't much, but it was progress.
Kieran felt a surge of hope mixed with pain. She was still broken, still lost, still empty, but she was here. Her senses were returning, even if her heart remained buried.
He leaned closer and whispered, "I'll never stop, Alena. No matter how long it takes. I'll sit with you, walk with you, talk with you… until the day your soul remembers what happiness is. And until that day, I'll be right here. Always."
Her hand twitched slightly under his. A faint squeeze. Not a lot, but enough.
Kieran's chest tightened, tears escaping his eyes. He smiled through the grief, holding her hands closer, letting her feel the warmth, the life in him, the determination he carried for her.
"You're going to live, Alena," he whispered. "You're going to see colors again. You're going to laugh again. You're going to feel alive. And I'll be here, every step, until you remember how to smile."
The sun dipped lower, painting the garden in deep oranges and purples. Kieran kept talking, softly, gently, steadfastly. Even if she didn't respond, he would not stop. He would not leave. He would not give up.
And maybe, just maybe, someday, she would respond.