Chapter 135: I Know What You Want...

~~~~~~ Amelia’s POV ~~~~~

I watched Sylvia, waiting for her to tell me how we actually met.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

There was something about the way she looked at me that made me feel like I was standing in front of a locked door. I knew there was something important behind it, something that belonged to me, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find the key.

I wanted to know where we had met.

I wanted to know what our first conversation had been like. I wanted to know what she had thought of me when she first saw me and what had made her stay long enough for us to become a couple.

Most of all, I wanted to know how I had fallen in love with her.

My mind remained completely blank.

Sylvia was still smiling as she stared at me. The soft hospital light fell across her face, making her features look gentler than before. A few strands of her hair rested beside her cheek, and her eyes held a warmth that made my chest tighten.

She leaned closer.

I stayed still, watching her.

Her perfume reached me before her face came close enough for me to feel the warmth of her breath against my skin. Then her lips touched my cheek.

My eyes widened slightly.

The kiss was soft and brief, but I could still feel the warmth of it after she pulled away.

My fingers curled around the blanket. I didn’t know what to say.

Sylvia seemed amused by my reaction. The corner of her lips lifted as she looked at me.

"How about I..." she began, but before she could finish, someone cleared their throat.

"Ahem..."

I immediately turned toward the sound.

Camila.

She was already awake.

She sat on the sofa with her arms folded across her chest, watching us with a small smile. Her hair was slightly messy from sleeping, and she still looked as if she had only recently woken up.

I blinked at her.

When did she wake up?

I hadn’t even noticed.

Camila’s eyes moved from me to Sylvia before she slowly shook her head.

"She’s not yet fit for that right now," she said, looking directly at Sylvia.

Sylvia smiled and nodded. "I will behave."

Camila gave her a small nod as though she had just warned her about something important. "Good."

I frowned as I looked at both of them.

What’s wrong with these two?

I had only asked Sylvia how we met. Why were they acting like I had asked for something completely different?

I looked at Sylvia suspiciously.

"What were you going to say?" I asked.

Sylvia opened her mouth, but her eyes shifted toward Camila.

Camila raised one eyebrow.

Sylvia immediately smiled innocently.

"Nothing."

I stared at her. "Nothing?"

She nodded. "Nothing."

I narrowed my eyes.

I didn’t believe her. Not even for a second.

"You’re lying," I muttered.

Sylvia placed a hand against her chest and widened her eyes dramatically. "Me?"

I almost laughed. "You."

"I would never lie to you," Sylvia said, smiling.

"You just did."

Sylvia’s smile grew. "I didn’t."

"You did."

Camila let out a quiet laugh from beside the bed.

I turned toward her. "You’re laughing?"

Camila covered her mouth for a moment before shaking her head. "I’m not."

"You are."

"I’m not."

I stared at her.

She was clearly trying not to smile.

I sighed and sank farther into my pillow.

"I don’t understand either of you."

Sylvia chuckled softly.

The sound was warm and light.

For some reason, hearing her laugh made the room feel less cold.

I looked at her again. She was still watching me. There was something familiar about that look.

I couldn’t explain it.

It wasn’t a memory exactly.

It was more like a feeling.

A small, quiet feeling that told me I had seen that expression many times before.

I frowned and tried to hold on to it.

For a second, I thought I might remember something.

A place.

A conversation.

Maybe even her voice.

But the moment I tried to reach for it, the feeling disappeared.

My head felt slightly heavy. I closed my eyes for a second.

Sylvia noticed immediately.

"Are you tired?" she asked.

I opened my eyes again and looked at her.

"A little."

She adjusted the pillow behind me. "Then don’t force yourself."

Her fingers moved carefully behind my head as she lifted the pillow slightly and settled it into a more comfortable position.

I watched her silently.

She did it so naturally. Like she had done it many times before.

Maybe she really had.

The thought made my chest ache.

I looked away.

My body was becoming heavier with every passing minute. Even sitting upright was beginning to make my back hurt.

I slowly shook my head and sank against my pillow.

The cool hospital sheet rested over my legs while the air conditioner blew gently across my skin. The faint smell of medicine lingered in the room, mixed with the clean scent of the sheets.

The machine beside my bed continued to beep steadily.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

The sound was quiet, but in the silence of the room, I could hear every single beep.

I glanced at the machine.

There were numbers on the screen that I didn’t understand.

The wires attached to my body made me uncomfortable. Every time I moved, I became aware of them.

I slowly turned toward Camila.

"Where are my mom and dad?" I asked quietly.

Camila stepped closer to the bed. "They’ll come tomorrow," she replied calmly.

I gave her a small nod. "Okay."

I didn’t ask anything else.

I slowly closed my eyes. For a moment, I tried to relax, but my mind wouldn’t let me.

The moment I closed my eyes, Sylvia’s face appeared in my thoughts.

Not as a memory.

Just as an image I had seen since waking up.

I really wanted to remember her.

I wanted to remember everything.

Not just the good moments. I wanted the bad ones too.

The arguments. The misunderstandings. The times we had been angry with each other.

The moments when we had apologized.

The moments when we had laughed until our stomachs hurt.

I wanted to remember the ordinary things.

The things that probably wouldn’t mean much to anyone else but might have meant everything to us.

I wanted to remember how she looked when she was tired.

I wanted to remember what she sounded like when she was annoyed.

I wanted to remember how she called my name.

I wanted to remember the first time she held my hand.

I wanted to remember the first time I realized I loved her.

I wanted to remember ever loving her.

My chest tightened.

I swallowed hard.

How could I miss something I couldn’t even remember?

The question stayed in my mind.

I tried to search for something.

Anything.

I concentrated until my forehead began to ache.

I imagined Sylvia standing in front of me.

I imagined hearing her voice. I imagined her calling me Babe.

Nothing happened.

There was no memory.

No sudden image. No forgotten conversation.

Only darkness.

I opened my eyes again. The ceiling above me looked blurry.

I blinked.

The blur didn’t disappear.

A tear slipped from the corner of my eye.

I quickly turned my face toward the pillow.

I didn’t want anyone to notice. Another tear followed, and I bit the inside of my cheek because it hurt.

The small pain helped me focus for a moment. But it couldn’t stop the tears.

It hurt knowing that I remembered Camila.

I remembered my parents.

There were pieces of my life that were still there.

But Sylvia was different.

She was supposed to be someone I loved.

Someone who had been close enough to call me hers. Yet when I searched for her in my memories, there was nothing.

It felt like someone had taken a part of my life and torn it away.

I slowly wiped my cheek with the back of my hand.

I hoped no one had noticed.

But the mattress shifted beside me. Someone moved closer. A warm hand touched my cheek.

I froze.

I didn’t have to look to know who it was.

Sylvia.

Her thumb moved gently across my skin, wiping away the tear.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

I turned my head toward her. Her playful expression was gone. Concern filled her eyes as she studied my face.

"Why are you crying?" she asked again, her thumb brushing beneath my eye.

I stared at her.

I didn’t know how to explain it.

My lips parted, but no words came out.

Sylvia didn’t rush me. She simply kept her hand against my cheek.

Her touch was warm, steady, and comforting.

The warmth slowly spread through my skin.

I looked at her hand and then I looked at her face.

She was worried about me.

I could see it clearly.

Her eyebrows were slightly drawn together, and her eyes kept searching mine as if she was trying to understand what was happening inside my head.

"Crying? Why?" Camila asked.

She quickly stood up and walked toward my bedside.

The sofa made a soft sound as she moved away from it.

She stopped beside us and looked at my face.

Her expression immediately changed when she noticed the tears.

"What happened?" she asked.

I shook my head slightly. "Nothing."

My voice sounded weak.

Camila frowned. "You’re crying."

"I know."

"Then why?"

I looked down. I didn’t know what to tell her.

How could I explain that I was crying because I wanted to remember a relationship that had disappeared from my mind?

How could I tell them that I felt like I was mourning something I couldn’t even see?

My fingers tightened around the blanket.

I looked at Sylvia again.

Her hand was still against my cheek.

I wanted to hold it.

I wanted to pull her closer.

I wanted to ask her to tell me everything about us.

But there was also fear.

What if knowing everything didn’t bring the memories back?

What if I listened to every story she told me and still felt nothing?

What if the memories never returned?

The thought made my throat tighten again.

Sylvia noticed. Her thumb gently moved beneath my eye.

"Don’t cry," she whispered.

I swallowed.

"I really want to..." My voice broke.

Sylvia immediately leaned closer.

"Shhh..." She placed one finger gently over my lips, stopping me before I could finish.

I became quiet.

Her fingertip rested softly against my mouth. Her eyes remained fixed on mine.

There was no teasing in her expression now. Only understanding.

She seemed to know what I was trying to say even though I hadn’t finished. Her hand remained against my cheek while she stared at my face.

"I know what you want," she whispered.