His Sexual Addiction

Chapter 67: He's Gone

"L-Lyka... where's Kiro? Well, knowing him, he would probably accompany you here with his car... wait, did you just ride on a bus to be here?" Kurt bombarded me with questions, but I decided not to answer any of them. I didn't want him to know anything about me and Kiro. "You said you helped my family, right? So... you were just there, in our area? What are you doing in our area?" I asked, feeling puzzled about his presence in the squatter area when he seemed well- off. "You're being judgmental, Lyka," he responded, but I couldn't understand what part of my questions made me judgmental. "So, why was Kiro not with you?" I asked again, feeling frustrated with his evasive responses. Instead of giving a straight answer, he simply nodded and let the conversation drop. Feeling tired and overwhelmed, I decided to rest my head on the car seat, pretending to sleep. But my mind was racing, and I couldn't help but overthink. What could have happened to Kiro now? The thought of him using me as a rebound hurt me deeply. Was that why he called me Lily at first and then suddenly became kind to me? Did he just see the one he loved in me? I couldn't hold back my tears, but I reminded myself that stressing out was not good for my baby. I tried to calm myself down, reminding myself to keep fighting and to stop crying. "Why are y-you crying, Lyka? Is there a problem?" Kurt's concern interrupted my thoughts. I looked at him and whispered, "Is there something that happened to Father that I need to be nervous like this?" I asked, wiping off my tears. He remained silent, and I took that as a confirmation that something was wrong with my father. "Frankly, yes," he finally answered, and my heart raced with anxiety. What else could possibly go wrong on this already terrible day? It was funny how quickly my mood had changed from happiness in the morning to tears now. Time and emotions had a way of flipping like a coin. I could hardly find my voice as I whispered, "Thank you for answering." The ride to the hospital felt excruciatingly long, and my knees were shaking as we walked towards

the entrance. Kurt noticed my trembling and placed his arm around my waist to support me. I protested, but he insisted, saying that I might fall without his help. In my confusion, every step we took felt like a blur. I didn't even notice which room we were headed to, my mind clouded by worry and fear. But then, as I saw the door with the chilling label 'Morgue,' my heart plummeted like a stone into the depths of despair. My steps faltered, and I couldn't move any closer to that foreboding entrance. The reality of the situation hit me like a tidal wave, crashing against the fragile wall of denial I had constructed. "Why are we here, Kurt?" I managed to choke out, my voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and desperation. "You must be mistaken. This can't be right. This can't be where my father is." Kurt's gaze was heavy with a kind of empathy that only confirmed what I dreaded. His somber expression seemed to convey the truth that my heart refused to accept. The silence between us was deafening, and my mind raced, attempting to rationalize any alternative explanation. "Lyka..." Kurt's voice was soft, laden with compassion. It was as if he wanted to ease the blow that was about to strike, but he knew that no words could cushion the impact of the truth. A realization dawned upon me, stark and merciless. I didn't need him to say it aloud; the room's very label spelled out the undeniable reality. My eyes widened in a mix of shock and devastation. No, it couldn't be true. My father, the pillar of our family, the source of strength and guidance, couldn't possibly be inside that room. It was absurd, unthinkable—a nightmare I was desperately hoping to wake up from. "N-no..." I whispered, my voice trembling. "What am I thinking? This can't be right. Father isn't inside that room, right? It's just a mix-up, a terrible misunderstanding..." My words were a desperate chant, an attempt to reassure myself that the gut-wrenching truth was merely a cruel trick my mind was playing on me. But as I looked at Kurt's solemn expression, my resolve faltered. The silence between us was a confirmation of what I was afraid to acknowledge. I felt the tears streaming down my face, blurring my vision as reality crashed down upon me. The possibility I feared most had become my unfortunate reality. "Kurt, please tell me I'm wrong," I pleaded, my voice breaking with every syllable. "Tell me that my

father isn't there... Tell me it's a mistake." Kurt's eyes held a depth of compassion that was difficult to fathom. He extended his hand to me, a gesture of comfort and support in the face of an unbearable truth. My heart ached, and the sobs that had been building up inside me erupted uncontrollably. The tears flowed as a torrent of emotions overwhelmed me—the sorrow, the disbelief, and the harsh reality that I was facing the loss of someone so dear to me. "Why are you so quiet? Answer me, Kurt! Answer me!" I cried out, my voice shaking with desperation. I needed an answer, even though I was afraid of what it might be. My heart raced like a wild horse, and I could feel my pulse throbbing in my temples. The silence that followed felt like an eternity, heavy with uncertainty. Each passing second weighed me down, filling me with a growing dread. Kurt's lack of response seemed to confirm my worst fears, a confirmation I didn't want to hear. Just as I was about to be consumed by my own spiraling thoughts, a figure appeared at the door. It was my mother, her presence a lifeline in the darkness of my emotions. I rushed to her, my arms wrapping around her as if she could shield me from the pain that loomed ahead. Our tears mixed, wordlessly sharing our grief. "Mother! Mother..." I began, my voice catching in my throat. But words seemed inadequate in the face of the overwhelming sorrow we both felt. She held me tighter, her sobs speaking volumes even before she uttered a single word. Amidst her tears, she managed to say, "Your father is gone now..." My heart clenched in my chest, the weight of her words crashing down on me. The world around me seemed to blur as I struggled to process what I had just heard. It couldn't be true, could it? "No... No, that can't be true," I muttered, as if saying it aloud would somehow make it less real. Denial was a flimsy shield against the truth, but I clung to it nonetheless. In my mind, I could still see my father's smile and hear his laughter. He was just resting, right? He had a habit of sleeping in, after all. I closed my eyes, a silent plea echoing within me. Maybe, just maybe, this was all a mistake. Maybe I would wake up from this nightmare and find my father at home, safe and sound. But deep down, INôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

knew that reality was harsher than any dream. And the pain of losing him was something I wasn't prepared to face. I clung to any hope, trying to spit out possibilities that could prove this was all a mistake. But my mother gently wiped my tears away, and I knew my father's passing was undeniable. "No, Lyka... he's gone now... your Father is dead," my mother finally said, breaking my heart with those painful words. I continued sobbing, feeling lost and overwhelmed by the mess my life had become. My mother held my hands as we walked into the room. Inside, my younger siblings, Datdat and Dodong, were crying too. In front of us was a bed, and someone was lying there, covered with a white towel. It was my father. I gasped for air as I approached the bed. "F-father..." I couldn't find the right words, only tears and sobs escaping from me. I remembered how he used to call me his princess when I was young, how he would scold me whenever I applied for a job. Memories flooded back, reminding me of the times he hated being bedridden because he didn't want us to work for him. "What happened? Why are you suddenly laying there? W-wake up! Wake up!" I cried, hugging him despite the white covers that concealed his features. After crying and mourning for what felt like an eternity, exhaustion set in. I took deep breaths as I felt my mother's comforting embrace from behind. "Do you know what your father said when we were on our way here?" she asked gently. I was speechless, so I shook my head to indicate that I didn't know. "He said... he's sorry for what he said to you... he was really thankful to have a child like you... and he's really proud of his... princess," she shared, and those words pierced my heart once more. I quietly sobbed, missing my father terribly. Dodong, Datdat, and Kurt were waiting outside, giving us space to grieve in private. "M-mom, what happened to Father? Why did he d-die?" I asked, my voice breaking. "According to the doctor, your father's condition was critical, and he couldn't make it," she explained, her voice filled with sorrow.

I nodded, slowly coming to terms with the painful reality that my father was now gone. After a few more minutes, we left the room, leaving my father behind. Outside, Dodong, Datdat, and Kurt were there, offering their support and condolences. My heart was heavy, but I knew I had to stay strong for my family. The journey ahead would be tough, but we would face it together. "What are we going to do now, Mother?" I asked, my voice shaky with grief. "Your father's body will be cremated. His body will be sent to us after... For now, let's just go home and clean the house to welcome your father's ashes..." Mother replied, her voice heavy with sorrow. This has been an incredibly tiring day for all of us. Kurt, who stood beside us, remained silent, perhaps trying to offer some respect during this difficult time. As we approached Kurt's car, the reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt guilty for inconveniencing him. "Ahmm, Kurt? Are you busy now? We disturbed you, right? You can go, and we will just commute—" I hesitated, not wanting to burden him any further. "No! No, it's okay, Lyka..." Kurt reassured me, opening the backseat for Mother, Dodong, and Datdat. I couldn't help but wonder how many people I had inconvenienced today. As we drove home, the atmosphere inside the car was heavy with silence. Even Dodong, who usually radiated cheerfulness, seemed subdued, and Datdat, despite her recovery and newfound ability to walk, appeared stressed. It was difficult to witness the pain we were all going through. "L-Lyka, my daughter?" Mother's voice broke the silence. "Yes, mom?" I replied, my heart aching for her. "Can I ask a question?" she inquired, her eyes searching mine for answers. She asked me about Kiro. I swallowed hard, unsure if I should share the truth with her at this moment. With Kurt still present, I decided to postpone the conversation for now. "He's... somewhere," I responded cryptically. Mother looked at me with suspicion, but she turned away, respecting my response. As we arrived at our house, the air felt eerie, and the weight of the day's events pressed down on me like a suffocating shroud. I struggled to catch my breath, feeling light-headed and disoriented. It

dawned on me that I hadn't eaten anything since leaving Gustavo's mansion earlier. My mind was clouded with negativity and the overwhelming grief of losing the two most special men in my life. I stopped walking, my body giving in to the overwhelming emotions and exhaustion. Everything turned black as I succumbed to unconsciousness.