Chapter 137: Don’t Go...

The door suddenly opened, and I turned my head toward it, wondering who had come in.

Two nurses stepped into the room and quietly closed the door behind them. One of them carried a small stainless-steel tray, and the faint clinking of the medical instruments caught my attention as they walked toward my bed.

On the tray were two sealed syringes, small medicine vials, alcohol swabs, cotton balls, disposable gloves, and a small kidney-shaped container for used medical items. Everything was arranged neatly, making the tray look almost too clean and organized.

"Amelia, right?" one of the nurses asked as she stopped beside my bed.

"Shhh!" I quickly raised a finger to my lips. "Don’t wake her up."

Both nurses followed my gaze.

Sylvia was still asleep beside my bed, her head resting against the edge of the mattress. A few strands of her hair covered part of her face, and her breathing remained slow and peaceful.

One of the nurses nodded.

Relief washed over me. I didn’t want Sylvia to wake up.

If they ignored me and woke her, then I might as well refuse to listen to them too. I wasn’t going to take whatever medication they were about to give me if they couldn’t even follow such a simple request.

The nurses placed the tray carefully on the bedside table.

One of them slipped on a pair of gloves while the other picked up a small vial. She removed its cap and cleaned the rubber stopper with an alcohol swab. The sharp smell of alcohol reached my nose.

Then she picked up a syringe.

The plastic wrapper crinkled softly as she opened it. She inserted the needle into the vial and slowly pulled the medication into the syringe.

I watched the clear liquid rise inside it. The sight made me frown.

"What is that?" I asked quietly.

The nurse looked at me. "It’s part of the medication the doctor prescribed for you."

I glanced at the syringe again.

There was something unsettling about watching the liquid collect inside it. It was completely clear, almost like water, but I knew better than to assume it was harmless.

"What does it do?"

The nurse placed the vial back on the tray and held the syringe carefully between her fingers.

"It will help your body recover and keep you comfortable," she explained. "It may also make you feel sleepy."

"Sleepy?"

My eyes widened slightly.

I immediately looked at Sylvia.

She was still asleep.

Her head remained against the edge of the mattress, her cheek resting against her folded arm. She looked so peaceful that it was hard to believe she had been crying earlier.

The thought of sleeping made my stomach tighten.

I didn’t want to sleep.

Not yet.

I had just woken from a horrible dream, and even though I couldn’t explain why, the memory of it still clung to me.

I swallowed.

I didn’t understand what the dream meant, but something inside me told me it had not been an ordinary dream.

I didn’t want to close my eyes and see it again.

"No," I whispered.

The nurse tilted her head. "No?"

"I don’t want it."

She looked at me calmly. "Amelia, you need to take your medication."

"I don’t want to sleep." My voice sounded more frightened than I intended.

The nurse’s expression softened.

"You don’t have to be afraid. The medication may make you drowsy, but that’s normal. Your body needs rest right now."

I shook my head.

"I don’t want to dream again." The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Both nurses became quiet. The one holding the syringe lowered her hand slightly.

"You had a bad dream?"

I looked down at my blanket. "Yes."

I could still feel the pain in my stomach.

Even though there was no wound there now, my body remembered the feeling. I remembered the sudden pain, the warmth spreading beneath my hand, the fear that had filled my chest. And I remembered Janina standing over me.

I shivered. "I don’t want to see it again."

The nurse exchanged a brief look with the other nurse before turning her attention back to me.

"You may not dream at all," she said gently. "And even if you do, remember that you’re awake now. You’re here in the hospital, and you’re safe."

Safe.

I looked around the room.

Everything around me looked ordinary. Yet I still felt uneasy.

My fingers tightened around the blanket.

"Can you make sure she doesn’t wake up?"

I glanced toward Sylvia. The nurse followed my gaze.

"She’ll be fine," she said. "We’ll keep our voices low."

"Promise?"

The nurse gave me a small smile. "Promise."

That made me feel a little better.

I looked at Sylvia again. She was still asleep.

I didn’t know why I cared so much about keeping her asleep.

Maybe I just didn’t want her to see me scared.

Maybe I didn’t want her to worry.

Or maybe... I simply wanted her close. ℯℯ𝘭.

Even though I couldn’t remember our relationship, something about her presence made me feel calmer.

I looked back at the nurse. "Will it hurt?"

"A little."

My face tightened. "How much?"

The nurse smiled faintly. "Just a quick pinch."

I stared at the syringe.

I had never liked needles. The sight of the thin metal needle made my shoulders tense.

The nurse noticed. "You can look away if you want."

I immediately looked toward Sylvia.

That was much better.

I didn’t want to see the needle. I watched her sleeping face instead.

A few strands of hair had fallen across her forehead. Her lips were slightly parted, and her breathing was slow and steady.

She looked exhausted.

I slowly reached toward her. My fingers stopped a few inches above her hand.

I hesitated and then I gently touched her fingers.

They were warm. The simple warmth made something inside me loosen.

I curled my fingers around hers.

Sylvia didn’t wake.

I let out a quiet breath.

"Okay," I whispered.

The nurse moved closer. I felt the blanket shift slightly as she carefully positioned my arm.

"Try to relax."

"I am relaxed."

The nurse smiled. "You’re holding your girlfriend’s hand like your life depends on it."

I froze.

Girlfriend.

How does she know that?

I looked at Sylvia again.

Was she really my girlfriend?

I lowered my eyes.

"Don’t wake her," I whispered again.

"I won’t."

The nurse gently cleaned the inside of my arm with another alcohol swab.

The cold touch made me flinch.

"Cold," I muttered.

"I know."

The nurse waited for a moment before preparing the syringe.

I stared at Sylvia. Her eyelashes moved slightly, but she didn’t wake. I became strangely focused on her breathing. The rhythm was calming.

I followed it without realizing it. Then I felt the needle.

A sharp pinch entered my skin. I sucked in a breath, and my fingers immediately tightened around Sylvia’s hand.

The pain lasted only a moment, but my body reacted before my mind could.

My shoulders stiffened.

My eyes squeezed shut.

"It’s okay," the nurse said softly. "Almost done."

I tried to breathe slowly, forcing my arm to relax.

The medicine entered gradually. I felt a strange pressure beneath my skin, followed by a faint warmth spreading through my arm.

I didn’t like the feeling.

But it wasn’t unbearable.

I kept my eyes on Sylvia. She didn’t move, and that was all I needed.

I focused on her face until the nurse finally pulled the needle away.

"All done." The nurse pressed a small piece of cotton against the injection site.

I looked at it. "That was it?"

"Yes."

I blinked.

I had expected something worse.

The nurse smiled as she disposed of the syringe in the small container on the tray.

"You did well."

I looked away. "I wasn’t scared."

The other nurse smiled.

"You were holding your girlfriend’s hand very tightly."

I glanced down. My fingers were still wrapped around Sylvia’s, and I quickly loosened them.

"I just..."

I didn’t know what to say.

The nurse didn’t tease me again. She simply checked the medication tray and made sure everything was properly put away.

The room became quiet once more. I could hear the soft beeping of the machine beside my bed.

The sound was steady and almost soothing.

I shifted slightly against the pillow. My body felt different.

The weakness that had already been there seemed to grow stronger.

I blinked several times. "Is it starting already?"

The nurse looked at me. "What?"

"The sleepiness."

She smiled. "It can happen quickly."

I frowned.

I didn’t like that answer. My eyelids felt heavier, and I rubbed them carefully.

"No."

The nurse gave me a concerned look. "You should rest, Amelia."

"I don’t want to."

"You need to."

"I have to remember." The words came out quietly.

Both nurses looked at me.

I looked at Sylvia.

"I need to remember her." My voice cracked slightly.

I didn’t know why that mattered so much.

Maybe because every time I looked at Sylvia, I saw a stranger. But every time she touched me, something inside me reacted like I had known her forever.

I hated that my mind couldn’t connect the two.

I hated the empty space where those memories should have been.

I wanted to know how we met.

I wanted to know why she called me Babe.

I wanted to know why hearing her voice made my chest feel warm.

And most of all, I wanted to know why losing my memories of her hurt so much.

The nurse stepped closer. "You don’t have to force yourself to remember tonight."

I looked at her. "But what if I forget more?"

"You won’t lose yourself because you rest."

Her voice was calm. "Your body has been through a lot. Rest is part of getting better."

I lowered my gaze.

Getting better.

Everyone kept saying that. But what did getting better mean if I couldn’t remember the person I loved?

I looked at Sylvia again.

The word came into my mind before I could stop it.

Loved.

I frowned.

Loved?

Did I love her?

I didn’t know yet, but the thought didn’t feel wrong.

My eyelids became heavier. I blinked again, and the room seemed slightly softer around the edges.

The lights weren’t as bright anymore. Or maybe my eyes were simply becoming tired.

I tightened my grip around Sylvia’s hand again. Her fingers remained warm against mine.

The nurse noticed but said nothing. She simply gave me another reassuring smile before stepping away from the bed.

I listened to the nurses moving quietly around the room.

The tray made a faint metallic sound. A drawer opened and closed, and their footsteps were soft against the floor.

Then everything became quiet again.

I looked at Sylvia.

"Why do I feel safe with you?" The question was barely louder than a whisper.

She didn’t answer.

Of course she didn’t. She was asleep.

I stared at her face. There was something familiar about the curve of her lips, the shape of her eyes, and the softness of her expression.

I wished I could remember.

I wished I could close my eyes and suddenly see everything.

But my mind remained frustratingly empty.

I sighed.

A small yawn escaped me, and I quickly covered my mouth.

One of the nurses noticed. "You’re getting sleepy."

I didn’t have the strength to argue anymore.

The pillow beneath my head felt softer than before, almost as if it were pulling me deeper into it.

I looked toward the ceiling. For a moment, I thought about the dream again. My heart began beating faster.

I immediately turned toward Sylvia.

She was still there. I stared at her until the fear slowly faded.

Whatever the dream meant, it wasn’t happening now.

I took a slow breath, and my fingers moved gently over hers.

"I don’t know who you are yet," I whispered. "But I don’t want you to leave."

The words felt strange coming from me. But they were honest.

I didn’t know whether she could hear me.

Maybe it didn’t matter.

I closed my eyes for a few seconds before opening them again.

Sylvia’s face was still the first thing I saw.

A small smile appeared on my lips. I reached up with my free hand and gently moved a strand of hair away from her face.

She shifted slightly in her sleep.

My hand stopped.

I waited to know if she would wake up. But thankfully she didn’t wake.

I smiled again. "You’re really important to me, aren’t you?"

There was no answer. Only the quiet sound of the machine beside me.

My eyelids became heavier. I tried to fight it.

I really did.

I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted to stay awake until Sylvia opened her eyes.

But my body refused to listen. The warmth in my arm slowly spread through me, and my breathing became slower.

The tension in my shoulders disappeared.

I rested my head deeper into the pillow.

Sylvia’s hand remained inside mine, and I held onto it. Even as sleep began pulling me under.

My lips curved into a faint smile.

"Don’t go," I whispered.

Sylvia remained asleep beside me. But her fingers moved slightly against mine, almost as if she had heard me.

That tiny movement made my heart feel warm.

I took one final breath and then I let my eyes close.

This time, I wasn’t afraid of the darkness. I wasn’t afraid of what I might dream about.

Because Sylvia was right there.

The last thing I felt was the warmth of Sylvia’s fingers wrapped around mine as sleep gently carried me away.