After what felt like an eternity, the sharp, twisting pain in Jeffrey's stomach finally began to fade.
He slowly, carefully pushed himself up, got out of the bed, and walked over to where Rachel slept in the chair.
Her breathing was deep and steady; she had fallen completely asleep.
He bent down, ignoring the lingering discomfort in his own body, and gently lifted her into his arms.
He carried her the short distance back to the bed, laying her down softly before pulling the blanket up to cover her.
His gaze lingered on her peaceful, sleeping face.
Earlier, a terrifying thought had flashed through his mind: if he and Rachel were truly over forever, then... he wouldn't be able to go on living.
It felt like he would lose his very reason to exist.
A bitter, self-deprecating smile tugged at his lips. It turned out that his entire life and death had always been in her hands.
He had stupidly thought that breaking up would give him back control of his own life.
