A week later, Matilda checked herself out of the hospital, and there was nothing Keaton could do to stop her. She had managed to hit all the right marks on her checklist, presenting a picture of health that left the doctors with no choice but to sign her out.
This was what troubled Keaton the most. Matilda was the model patient, hitting every milestone, taking her medication on time, and showing signs of recovery exactly when expected.
But this was precisely what made it so terrifying. Matilda had effectively buried all her thoughts and feelings, putting on a facade of wellness that was heart-wrenching.
On the day she left, Keaton watched her walk out of the hospital doors, then dialed Yvan. "Yvan, she’s gone," he said, watching Matilda’s retreating figure.
Yvan sat in his car under the shade of an oak tree, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel as he caught sight of Matilda hailing a cab.
"I know," he said, his voice hoarse, a testament to the emotional strain since their explosive argument in her hospital room. That had been the last time Yvan had seen her, her words cutting him deeply.
He watched as Matilda got into the cab with Logan, driving away without a backward glance, perhaps knowing Yvan was watching from afar but choosing not to acknowledge it.
Yvan watched the taxi disappear, his emotions fragmented.
He didn't want to let go, wanted to make amends, to desperately save whatever was left. But how, Matilda, how can I make you look back?
Eventually, Yvan stepped out of his car and into the hospital lobby where Keaton, in his lab coat, waited with a worried expression. "You finally showed up."
Keaton had no idea that Yvan had been watching Matilda leave.
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