Chapter 212: The Weight of Grief
Alaric and Galatea rushed to the hospital, hearts heavy with dread. By the time they arrived outside the hospital morgue, it was just past five in the morning. The hospital’s long, dimly lit corridor echoed with only the sound of their footsteps and shallow breathing. As they approached the end of the hallway, they saw Cormac sitting on a bench, his posture slumped, his head bowed, motionless. Just seeing him like this, without even exchanging a word, felt like a heavy blow to Galatea.
She understood the weight of his grief. It was the same numbness she had felt when Brennan died—so intense that it felt as though her body couldn’t even cry.
Alaric stopped a few steps away from Cormac, unsure of what to say. Words seemed futile at that moment. No matter what he said, it wouldn’t take away the agony Cormac was living through.
After what felt like an eternity, Cormac slowly lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot, and his face was drawn with exhaustion. In just a few days, he had aged, and the strain of everything that had happened was evident in the sharp hollows beneath his eyes.
When Cormac’s gaze landed on Alaric, the numbness that had overtaken him seemed to vanish in an instant, replaced by a deep, raw pain.
Without warning, Cormac surged to his feet and grabbed Alaric by the collar, slamming him against the wall. “Was it you? Alaric, was it you?” he demanded, his voice hoarse with anguish.
Alaric knew exactly what Cormac was asking. He wanted to deny it, to brush off the accusation, but seeing Cormac’s broken, desperate face, he couldn’t bring himself to lie.
Cormac’s voice cracked as he screamed, “Alaric, answer me! Was Orion’s car accident your doing?”
Galatea stepped forward, but Alaric, sensing the growing tension, placed a hand on her arm. “Galatea, step aside,” he said softly, his tone pleading.
With a heavy heart, Galatea moved back. Cormac tightened his grip on Alaric’s collar, shaking him with all the strength he could muster.
“You wanted to get back at Griffon, didn’t you? You wanted to make him suffer, didn’t you?” Cormac’s words were fueled by a bitter anger, a grief-stricken rage. “Then go after Griffon! The debt should be paid by the one who owes it. Didn’t you already sue him? Didn’t the police already take him away? What more do you want? Why couldn’t you spare Orion?”
Cormac’s voice trembled as he continued, “Even if she was wrong, she didn’t deserve to die. She loved you for so many years. She loved you for so long…”
“Orion’s car accident had nothing to do with me,” Alaric said, his voice calm, though the pain in his eyes betrayed his words.
But Cormac wasn’t listening. He roared in grief, his face contorting in anguish. “Alaric, if you really want revenge, come after me! Come after me! Take my life, but give me back my sister! Give me back my sister!”
Alaric, unable to hold back any longer, pushed Cormac aside, forcing him to the ground. Cormac collapsed, his sobs echoing off the walls, his body shaking uncontrollably.
“Calm down, Cormac!” Alaric urged, kneeling beside him, but Cormac’s voice was frantic.
“Calm down? How can I calm down?” Cormac cried, his voice raw with pain. “In the span of a single night, I lost both my mother and my sister. It feels like a nightmare. Two people who were alive one moment, and gone the next…”
He paused, choking on his words, before continuing, “My mother died without saying a word. I watched her, and it was like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t. And my sister… my beautiful, young sister… She died wearing pajamas and slippers. Her face was unrecognizable, her body broken. I never even got to say goodbye. How can I calm down, Alaric? How am I supposed to live with this?”
At those words, Galatea couldn’t hold back her tears. The pain in Cormac’s voice was too much to bear. She could understand it—understand it, but she couldn’t relate to it. She had never lost two loved ones in a single day.
Alaric stood there, silent, knowing there was nothing he could say to ease the agony Cormac was experiencing. All they could do was be there for him, as he cried, as he vented his pain.
Cormac’s grief stretched on, unrelenting. Eventually, exhaustion took over, and he collapsed in a heap, unconscious from sheer emotional and physical fatigue. Alaric quickly scooped him up, taking him to the hospital’s restroom. Galatea sighed deeply, the weight of it all pressing down on her chest.
As they settled Cormac onto a bed, Galatea spoke quietly, her voice heavy with sorrow. “Cormac is so pitiful. He’s the most innocent in all of this… and Ravenna… she passed away so suddenly.”
Her voice caught in her throat, and for a moment, she struggled to hold back the tears. She vividly recalled the last time she had visited the Nash family, when Ravenna had said she wanted to attend her and Alaric’s wedding. It felt so unfair, so senseless.
Alaric let out a long sigh, his arms around Galatea as they stood there in silence. “Life is unpredictable, Galatea. No one can control it… No one can prevent it.”
Griffon was still in the police station, facing the consequences of his actions. The weight of the situation now fell on Cormac’s shoulders. He was the only one left to deal with the aftermath of his mother and sister’s deaths, but he was unconscious, lost to his grief.
Alaric and Galatea took charge, making arrangements for the funeral. It was a somber duty, but it was something that had to be done. They would help Cormac, despite the deep wounds that had been inflicted on all of them.
After a day of planning, Cormac finally regained consciousness. Galatea was the first to approach him.
“Cormac, we’ve arranged everything. Ravenna and Orion’s affairs are all taken care of,” she said gently, trying to ease him into the reality of the situation.
Cormac didn’t respond, his body lying still on the hospital bed, his gaze vacant. He seemed like he didn’t even hear her.
“We’ve made the funeral arrangements,” Galatea added softly. “But Cormac, the dead can’t come back. You need to take care of yourself now. Please.”
He remained silent.
“I want to be alone for a while,” Cormac finally murmured, his voice hoarse.
Galatea nodded, her heart aching for him. “Okay. Alaric and I will be just outside. Call us if you need anything.”
Without a word, Cormac turned away, his back to her as he lay there, lost in his grief. Galatea closed the door softly behind her, her chest tight with the weight of it all.
When she met Alaric in the hallway, she saw the same sorrow in his eyes.
“It’s going to take him a long time to come to terms with all of this,” Galatea said softly, her words heavy with understanding.
Alaric nodded grimly. He understood all too well.
Just then, Silas walked over, a serious expression on his face. “Mr. Alaric, there’s news from the police station.”
“About Griffon?” Alaric asked, already knowing what had to be coming.
Griffon had always been close to Orion. Now that he knew she was dead, Alaric could only imagine how much pain Griffon was in. But in the end, he deserved it. All of this—every bit of it—was his doing.