Reasons To Stay Alive Book 소설 & 이야기

"You wanted to matter. To be important to me. The surgery made you feel needed, valued. Was it really so wrong to let you have that feeling?" She stared at me like I was speaking a foreign language. "You're insane. You actually believe your own justifications." "I believe in survival," I said coldly. "In doing what's necessary to protect what I've built. You think you're some kind of hero, exposing me? You're not. You're just another obstacle." "Then why am I still alive?" The question stopped me. Why was she still alive? I'd had countless opportunities to finish this. To snap her neck, to choke the life from her, to make sure she never spoke another word.

Chapter 49: His Life Zaina’s POV In this world, life is like a game of survival. You need to be brave, wise, and strong to survive. The only difference between life and a real game is… once you die, it’s over. You can’t be resurrected. If you’re lucky enough to stay alive, then move forward and continue living in this chaotic and cruel world.

A reason to live. I was willing to give my life away because I didn't have anything to live for accept my people. And don't get me wrong, it was a great reason to give your life away. If it meant they could live. I was willing to die alone. But now I have a reason to live, a reason for something to fight for and it's him. And I will fight for him! I will fight for him and his happiness. And if his happiness means that I have to live then I will do it! I will make sure I live for him so he can be happy!

“Are you doing this because you genuinely have feelings for him, or are you doing this because some part of you wants to blow up the story you’ve been raised inside?, Because those are two different reasons.” I opened my mouth to answer her immediately she finished the question, “Of course it’s about him,and this isn't about rebellion” and then I stopped myself, because Cara had asked me not to get defensive and answering immediately was a defensive reflex. I stayed silent for a while, “It's him,” I Said in a much calmer voice,finding out the truth matters to me too, and I won’t pretend It doesn’t.But if there were no locked box, no photograph,no gaps in the story,if everything I’d been told

Will they hinder any possible chances of me having a normal life? Her book says 'everything happens for a reason', and I'm still trying to process the reason for my kidnap, hostage situation and near death experience. What's the reason for almost dying? Is it a lesson that life can be ended at any time even without me being ready? Is it to prove to me that cruel people do exist in the world? I'd long come to term with that aspect of life. I'd learned that people can do horrendous things to prove a point. I'm a living proof of that fact. So maybe, she could answer these questions- help me to find the closure that I need.

“I remember everything. I remember you lying to me the whole time. And I remember… that you don’t love me at all.” I closed my eyes for a moment, suppressing the sting rising behind them. Then, I lifted my head and met her gaze directly, calm and resolute. “That’s right. I have never loved you. I saved you, coaxed you, and called you my wife… all because you’re strong and could keep me alive. In this cannibalistic apocalypse, emotions are the most useless thing. Only self-interest keeps us alive. Now that you remember everything, do whatever you want with me. Kill me if you like.”

I was talking to it. The presence stilled. because now I wasn’t reacting. I was challenging its choice. “You chose to survive,” I continued. “But you don’t understand what that means.” The space cracked. wider. because that didn’t resolve. didn’t fit. didn’t complete. “Survival isn’t just removing risk.” The mark surged. hard. “It’s holding onto what makes it worth it.” The space shattered. Violently. because now everything conflicted. everything contradicted. Zayden’s breath hitched. sharp. because something inside him reacted. not fully. not completely. but there.

Then quietly said: “Because sometimes leaving hurts more.” The network pulsed softly. The new consciousness absorbed the answer carefully. “But humans continue hurting each other,” it whispered. I nodded slowly. “Yes.” No denial. No pretending humanity was kinder than it really was. The presence drifted closer emotionally. “Then why continue bonding?” My throat tightened. Because the answer felt painfully simple. I looked at Nathan. At the exhaustion in his eyes. At the fear he still carried. At the love he kept choosing anyway. And softly whispered: “Because some people become part of your reason for surviving.”

I would survive it. Because survival was the first step toward strength. --- *******

For taking everything from me and still expecting me to sit at his table. Breakfast. Dinner. His rules. His voice. My life felt like a cage built from moments—short moments of peace, crushed by long moments of grief. But I needed to stay alive. For the baby. For myself. For the tiny chance that Renz… somehow… wasn’t gone. So I wiped my face, straightened my hair, and stood. Not because I feared him. No. Not because he demanded it. No. But because survival is quiet. And today, I'd chose to live again, even if it hurt.