As they continued their slow walk through the hospital garden, Rafael's questions lingered in the air, a reflection of his lingering uncertainty.
"When am I gonna discharge?" Rafael asked, his voice tinged with impatience.
"Soon," Peter reassured him, offering a comforting squeeze on his shoulder.
"Just need to work hard."
"You're still weak."
Rafael sighed, a sense of frustration evident in his voice.
"Sometimes I feel like I'm missing something."
Peter cast a sympathetic glance at Rafael, recognizing the weight of Rafael's unspoken words. It was clear to Peter that Rafael was grappling with the absence of someone significant in his life – Hazel. But Rafael's memory struggles prevented him from fully grasping the puzzle of their relationship.
As they walked, Peter resolved to help Rafael piece together the fragments of his memory, knowing that time was of the essence. Despite the doctor's assurances that Rafael would gradually regain his memories, Peter understood the urgency of Rafael's situation.
"Yes, it is," Peter confirmed, acknowledging Rafael's observation.
"There was someone in your life, and she's missing from it now."
His mind raced to piece together the fragments of memory, but the details remained elusive, shrouded in the fog of his amnesia.
"What do you mean?" Rafael questioned, his voice tinged with urgency.
"Who?"
Peter took a deep breath, steeling himself to deliver the truth. "She was our colleague, and she is missing."
"Missing?" Rafael's brows furrowed in confusion.
"Was I with her?"
"Yes, in fact, we were all together," Peter confirmed, his tone somber.
Rafael's restless energy intensified as he grasped for answers.
"Then what happened? Where is she?"
"What's her name?"
Peter attempted to calm Rafael's escalating agitation, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Rafael, calm down. You know her, and after you get discharged, we will go find her. But first, you need to be fit."
"Is she lost?" Rafael pressed, desperation evident in his voice.
"Not lost, she's near, but we can't reach her without your help," Peter explained gently.
"Try to remember her and that day."
"It was your wedding day," Peter reminded him softly.
"My wedding?"
Rafael murmured, the weight of the revelation settling in as he grappled with the implications of his forgotten past.
"I can't remember anything. Just some screams…" Rafael said, his voice distant as he grappled with the fragments of memory.
"Her name is Hazel," Peter reiterated, his gaze locked with Rafael's.
"Hazel!" Rafael repeated, the name echoing in his mind as he tried to piece together the elusive memories.
"Yes," Peter confirmed.
"Hazel!" Rafael touched his forehead, a flicker of recognition crossing his features.
Meanwhile, in Texas, Hazel and Francisco were en route back, seated in the private chamber of the plane. Francisco was engrossed in his work on the laptop, stealing glances at Hazel who sat beside him. She remained fixed on the scenery outside the window, the beauty of the city scape below mesmerizing her.
Francisco's gaze lingered on Hazel, observing her in his peripheral vision, but she remained oblivious, lost in her own thoughts.
Two people sat in silence, the air thick with unspoken tension. After a while, Francisco shut down the laptop and broke the silence with a question.
"Want to talk to your parents?" he asked, his voice cutting through the quiet.
Hazel turned to face him, her fingers tracing absent-minded patterns on her chin.
"Why suddenly?" she inquired, her tone guarded.
Francisco raised an eyebrow, a hint of determination in his gaze.
"I thought you should talk to them," he replied simply.
Hazel's lips pressed into a thin line as she processed his words. His sudden suggestion caught her off guard, leaving her unsure of his motives.
"After going home, we will talk to your parents," Francisco continued, his tone unwavering.
"We?"
Hazel repeated, her voice tinged with skepticism.
A small smile played on Francisco's lips as he gently clasped Hazel's hand.
"Won't you introduce me to your parents, Hazel?" he asked, his eyes searching hers for a reaction.
Hazel's eyebrows furrowed slightly as she lowered her gaze, processing his words.
"I see," she responded calmly, though her thoughts churned with uncertainty.
"That's why you are so eager for me to talk to them," she concluded.
"What will I say to them?"
Her face tightened with the burden of choosing her words.
"A criminal?" she continued, her words slicing through the air.
"Murderer!"
"My kidnapper?"
"Or my rapist?"
Francisco's lips tightened as he held onto Hazel's hand firmly.
"You are smart, and you know what to tell them."
Hazel couldn't help but chuckle, her tone laced with mockery.
"I will tell them the truth, Mr.," she retorted.
"Hazel!" He interrupted her.
Suddenly, Francisco pulled her hand closer to his lips, causing Hazel to meet his gaze.
"Call me by my name," he urged softly, pressing a gentle kiss on the back of her hand as he clasped it.
Hazel took a deep breath, her gaze shifting away from him. Despite her inner turmoil, she couldn't deny the captivating allure of his features – the sharp jawline, piercing blue eyes, and soft lips held a mesmerizing charm.
'A criminal should not have to be this handsome,' Hazel mused inwardly, her conflicting emotions swirling within her.
Francisco released her hand but continued to play with her knuckles, his actions drawing her attention. The sight of his blue veins tracing beneath his skin added another layer to his undeniable appeal, a magnetism that could charm any girl.
"You won't call me Mr. in front of your parents, right?" Francisco said, his gaze lingering on Hazel's long fingers.
Hazel attempted to pull her hands away, but Francisco maintained his grip, refusing to let her go.