My head ached a little when I opened my eyes, but the hospital lights weren't as harsh today. The nurse had left the curtains half-drawn, letting golden light spill across the bed.
Another bouquet. This one was wrapped in navy paper with a tiny sketch tucked inside — of a bird flying across a sunset sky.
There was no name.
I picked it up slowly, tracing the drawing. It felt familiar. Warm. Safe.
The door creaked.
"Hey," a voice said.
I turned.
It was the boy from yesterday — the one with stormy eyes and tousled black hair. He wore a simple hoodie and jeans, but somehow… he looked out of place in the quiet hospital room. Like someone too intense for these walls.
He sat down beside me.
"I brought you your favorite chocolate," he said softly, placing it on the table.
I blinked. "How do you know my favorite?"
He paused. "I just… remember."
His voice cracked a little, like he wasn't used to being this soft.
I looked at him more carefully.
There was something in the way he watched me. Like I was a memory he was trying to hold onto.
"I'm Damien," he added, like he'd forgotten to say it before.
I nodded slowly. "You were here yesterday."
"Yeah. I've… been here every day."
I smiled politely but didn't know what else to say. My heart felt weird. Like it was beating fast for no reason.
Just then, the door opened again.
"Hey Ava," came another voice — warmer, lighter.
Rylan.
He entered with two coffees and a small smile. He glanced at Damien, and something unspoken passed between them.
"I brought you vanilla," he said, holding it out. "You said once it tasted like sunshine."
"I did?" I asked, taking the cup.
He grinned. "You don't remember, but I do."
I blinked at both boys. Something tugged at my chest.
Why do they both look at me like I'm theirs?
---
Later that afternoon, Chloe visited and helped me walk around the courtyard. We talked about school, and I tried not to feel like a ghost inside my own life.
"Everyone's been so kind," I told her. "But… Damien? And Rylan? They confuse me."
She hesitated.
"Damien was your… everything," she said softly. "And Rylan… was trying really hard to be part of that."
"But I can't remember either," I whispered.
She nodded. "Then maybe let your heart remember. Not your brain."
---
That night, in my room, I found a note slipped into one of my books.
It was written in messy, rushed handwriting:
> "Even if your memory betrayed me…
I won't stop loving you. Not even for a second."
– D
And the next morning, a message popped up on my phone.
> Rylan: "Good morning sunshine ☀️ Did you sleep okay?"
My che
st fluttered.
And for the first time… I wasn't sure who I was falling for all over again.