I open my eyes, only to find an unfamiliar ceiling. My vision is still quite blurry, but then, it becomes better. My head pulses with pain, but it's so much better than what I felt before.

Abruptly, I sit up and find that I'm sitting on a bed that's not mine. What the hell has happened to me? I snap my head around and find Jake standing in the doorway, leaning against the door frame. "Shit," I involuntary curse.

"You passed out," he says, as if it can't be any clearer. "When I still saw you again this morning, I thought you were crazy. You looked like shit."

"How could--"

"Melanie," Jake answers before I can finish my question. "You're lucky. She found you, brought you inside and treated you."

I freeze for a while before a sigh leaves my mouth. So, it's not a dream. It's really her.

I thought that I was hallucinating. Damn. I even thought that I'd died and entered heaven.

Melanie stayed here, by my side. She saved me.

I suddenly feel so stupid for not waking up at that time.

"Where is she?" I ask, the question leaving my lips even when I don't remember moving them. Jake is right. I'm crazy. Why am I still waiting for her when she doesn't want to be with me anymore?

Even though it might be true that she doesn't love me anymore, I won't stop loving her. I saw the sadness in her eyes, and it makes me wonder whether it's because she was lying. If she was, if she suffers as much as I do by not being with me, I definitely won't let her go, even if she pushes me away.

"Not so fast." Jake scoffs, but I can see it from his eyes that the coldness is gone. The sceptical look is gone. And maybe, I haven't lost my best friend. "We need to talk," he says before closing the door behind him.

I'm sitting at my desk when Jake opens my door, making me turn to him.

"He's gone," Jake says. Before I can open my mouth to ask, he beats me, "Don't worry. I didn't let him leave before he took the porridge you prepared for him."

I let out a small sigh of relief. I hope that he'll get even better soon.

Jake leaves while I'm just staring blankly at my lap. I'm thinking of discussing with him about the plan I've been working on for my future, so I head to his room. When I arrive at his door, I'm surprised at what I find.

He's bending down toward his nightstand, and what shocks me is the thing he's putting into the drawer.

"Is that a gun?" I ask as my heart thuds louder inside my chest.

He startles, abruptly shutting the drawer. I can hear him whisper a curse before facing me. His face hardens.

"Jake," I stutter, not believing what I saw earlier. I've never seen a real gun before. Why would he keep one? How on earth did he even get one?

I approach him as he sits on the bed, burying his head in his hands. "What is happening?" My voice is shaking. "Why would you keep a gun in your room? Is that even legal?" I sit beside him on the bed and touch his shoulder, hoping that he'll be honest with me.

He turns to look at me, and my heart sinks when I see the frustration on his face. "Look, I know that I took you away from that place in which Derek had locked you. But ever since that happened, I can't help but worry about your safety. That fucking incident left an imprint on me that I would never forget. You're now living with me, Mel, and I have to make sure that you're safe."

I listen to him intently, knowing that he still hasn't finished his story. He runs his hand through his hair and lets out a deep sigh. It's almost painful to watch him. "I was responsible for what happened," he rasps, shocking me. "I left you alone because of my internship. I was too caught up with my new life and heavy works here that I barely had time to check on you. I didn't notice that something terribly wrong had happened while I was away."

I shake my head in denial, my heart breaking as he blames himself. No, it's not true.

During that period, even though he was super busy, he still sacrificed some of his time to call me in between his hectic schedules, to listen to me, to ask about my day. I was the one who hides things from him. I didn't tell him about the stalker. I didn't tell him about what was going on between Vaughn and me.

"That time when I came again to Boston and found out that Vaughn hurt you, I was so mad at Vaughn. But I was so mad at myself too," he continues. "I didn't tell him about Camila because I was afraid that it would hurt his feelings. I thought it was better for him to know that she left him without a word rather than to find out that she cheated on him because of her feelings for me. I did wrong too. There were many things I wish I could have prevented from happening. I got carried away while attempting to give that bitch some lesson. I never thought that I'd hurt him so bad. It was all my fault."

My eyes water as I watch him breaking. I've never seen my brother so devastated. "But what I regret the most is leaving you alone in the house while I was going to ask him why he'd hurt you. I just went to his apartment, consumed in anger that I forgot about you. I didn't think that you would follow me, and because of that--" he chokes, unable to finish his sentence.

I swallow, remembering everything that happened after that. I got my heart shattered, wandering alone on the street, meeting Derek...

"I just fucking got back in Boston when that psychopath took you." He buries his eyes in his palm, his hand shaking. "I couldn't be more fucked up. I don't even think that I can face Mom and Dad. I know for a fact that they're disappointed in me."

"No, it's not true," I whisper brokenly. All this time, he's done nothing but being the best big brother I could have ever asked for. He's been taking care of me. After the incident, he has been so attentive of me and has prioritized my healing above all else that I haven't even realized how much the tragedy has affected him too. He stays strong for me in spite of his own struggle.

He finally turns to me, his eyes bloodshot, and I give him a hug. I sigh, hoping that time will really erase this paranoia.

But somehow, the fact that my brother has brought a gun into this house still bothers me, lingering at the back of my mind.