Killed Me for Your Precious Angel? Now Pray She Can Save You from Hell - Chapter 59: Chapter 59

New Zealand's sunshine was always extraordinarily bright.
Brooklyn pushed open her apartment window, letting the cool breeze brush against her cheeks.
She took a deep breath. The air carried hints of salt and wildflowers—completely different from that perpetually gray city she'd left behind.
Freedom tastes like mountain air and possibility.
"How are you feeling today?"
Alistar's voice came from behind her, accompanied by the soft click of the door lock.
She turned to see him carrying a bouquet of fresh sunflowers, their golden petals gleaming in the afternoon light.
He brings flowers like other people bring hope—quietly, consistently, without expecting anything in return.
"Much better."
She took the flowers, her fingertips gently touching the soft petals.
When was the last time someone gave me something beautiful just because they wanted me to smile?
"The wounds barely hurt anymore."
Physical wounds, anyway. The other kind... those are taking longer.
Alistar arranged the flowers in a vase, expertly trimming the stems with the same careful attention he gave everything in her life.
For the past two months, he'd brought different flowers every day—sometimes daisies, sometimes roses, today sunflowers.
He never said anything overly romantic, never pushed, never demanded explanations. Just quietly placed them by her bedside like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Like I deserve beauty. Like I'm worth the effort.
"You mentioned wanting to open a bakery. I found some promising locations."
He spoke while arranging the bouquet, his movements gentle and precise.
"When you're feeling stronger, we can go take a look. But only if you want to. No pressure."
No pressure. When was the last time someone said that to me and meant it?
Brooklyn watched his profile, warmth spreading through her chest like sunlight melting ice.
When she'd first fled the States, she'd been like a startled animal—jumping at shadows, sleeping with her back to the wall, unable to eat without checking every exit.
Even with money and a new identity, she couldn't find peace.
I was so broken. So convinced I'd never be safe anywhere.
During her two days in Paris, she'd barely slept, constantly expecting someone to break down her door and drag her back.
Since the Sheridans had bought her original ticket to France, they knew her initial destination. That feeling of being tracked had terrorized her. She'd hopped between countries multiple times before finally settling in this small town in Queenstown, New Zealand.
Running, always running, until Alistar found me crying in that internet café and said the most beautiful words I'd ever heard: "You're safe now."
"I think..."
She hesitated, the old fear of being a burden creeping in.
"I might need to rest a little longer."
What if he gets tired of waiting? What if he realizes I'm too damaged to fix?
Alistar stopped arranging the flowers and looked at her with those kind brown eyes that had never once held judgment.
"No rush. Properties will always be available."
His voice was so patient, so understanding, that it made her chest tight with emotion.
He moved his entire business here for me. Rearranged his whole life. Left his family, his friends, his whole world—for me.
But he never mentioned the sacrifices or asked when she might return his feelings. Never made her feel guilty for the space she needed to heal.
He loves me enough to let me be broken. Loves me enough to wait while I put myself back together.
"Actually..."
She fiddled with a sunflower petal, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm much better now, it's just..."
The nightmares still come sometimes.
The bone-deep cold of that freezer. The whip tearing into her back. Kaiden's emotionless stare as he handed her over to that monster...
Stop. You're here now. You're safe.
A warm hand gently covered hers—careful, respectful, ready to pull away if she showed any sign of discomfort.
"Brooklyn."
Alistar's voice was soft but steady.
"Look outside."
She instinctively lifted her head.
Outside was azure sky, seagulls gliding lazily past, children's laughter echoing from the distance.
No guards. No cameras. No one watching, controlling, owning.
"No one here can hurt you."
He smiled, and she realized he meant every word.
"So take all the time you need. I'm not going anywhere."
I'm not going anywhere.
Brooklyn's eyes filled with tears as she remembered her first three days in Queenstown—she'd been too terrified to leave the apartment, convinced Kaiden would somehow track her down.
Alistar had brought her local delicacies every day, patiently explaining which streets were safe, which bakery had the best pastries. He'd never once made her feel pathetic for her fears.
He saw me at my absolute worst and chose to stay.
"Want to try that new café today?"
He smoothly changed the subject, somehow always knowing when her thoughts got too dark.
"I heard their tiramisu is incredible."
He never pushes. Never demands more than I can give.
She blinked away the moisture in her eyes and nodded.
"Okay."
The café overlooked the lake, white umbrellas dotting the terrace. Brooklyn slowly savored the tiramisu in front of her, letting the sweetness ground her in the present moment.
The coffee's bitterness blended with cream's sweetness on her tongue, making her close her eyes in appreciation.
Simple pleasure. When did I forget these existed?
"Good?"
"Really good."
She nodded, surprised by her own smile.
"Though the coffee flavor's a bit mild."
"We'll make our own next time."
He ruffled her hair affectionately—the touch so gentle, so devoid of possession or demand.
Next time. He always talks about the future like I'll be in it.
"I bought an espresso machine. We can adjust it to your preferred strength."
He remembers everything. What I like, what I need, what makes me feel safe.
Brooklyn suddenly remembered something and couldn't help laughing—really laughing, for the first time in months.
"Do you remember my first attempt at tiramisu? I used salt instead of sugar. It was absolutely disgusting."
"I remember."
Alistar's eyes crinkled with amusement and something deeper—like he treasured even her disasters.
"But you stubbornly insisted on finishing every bite, saying we couldn't waste ingredients."
He thought my stubbornness was endearing, not defiant. He saw strength where others saw obstinacy.
They shared a laugh, sunlight pooling on their table in warm, golden patterns.
These moments are becoming more frequent.
Sometimes discovering childhood snacks at the grocery store, sometimes curling up with old movies on rainy afternoons, sometimes just walking the lakefront in comfortable silence.
Gradually, Brooklyn found herself looking over her shoulder less often. She stopped waking from nightmares in cold sweats. She no longer had panic attacks when glimpsing a familiar silhouette.
I'm healing. Slowly, carefully, but actually healing.
"Alistar."
She spoke suddenly, using his first name instead of the formal distance she'd maintained.
It's time. Past time.
"Thank you."
He looked mildly surprised, then shook his head with that self-deprecating smile she'd grown to love.
"You don't need to thank me."
Yes, I do. You saved my life.
"I'm not being polite."
Her voice was earnest, thick with emotion she'd been too afraid to show.
"I really mean it... thank you for bringing me here. For giving me space to heal. For never making me feel broken or wrong or... or like damaged goods."
For loving me enough to let me find myself again.
The lake breeze tousled her hair. Alistar reached out to brush it away, then caught himself and pulled back just before touching her cheek.
Always so careful. Always respecting my boundaries even when I want him to cross them.
"Brooklyn."
His voice was gentle but resolute, filled with a devotion that made her chest ache with gratitude.
"I just want you to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted."
Not to own me. Not to control me. Just... to see me smile.
In the distance, waves lapped gently against the shore—constant, rhythmic, eternal.
Like life itself. Like love, when it's real. Eventually healing all wounds, bringing new beginnings.
For the first time in over a year, Brooklyn felt something that might have been hope.
Maybe I can love again. Maybe I can trust again. Maybe I deserve someone who sees me as precious instead of property.
And maybe, just maybe, that someone had been sitting patiently beside her all along.