Chapter 132

~ Octavia ~

The nightmare still clung to me like damp fog on a cold morning, its edges sharp and unrelenting even as daylight filtered through the hospital blinds. Franklin had held me through the night, his arms a steady anchor until the first pale streaks of dawn crept across the room. Neither he nor my mother knew the details of what had haunted my sleep—the shadowy figures, the crushing sense of betrayal, the fall that felt too real—and I wasn’t ready to speak of it yet. When I finally felt strong enough to share, Franklin had already been called away to work. He kissed my forehead softly, promising to return later that day, and I told my mother I would wait until he was back so we could hear it together. The weight of the dream pressed on me, but so did the quiet hope that each passing hour was pulling me closer to wholeness.

Day after day, I grew stronger. Small victories felt monumental now. I could bathe myself, though the nurse in charge hovered nearby with gentle supervision, ready to steady me if the dizziness returned. The warm water cascading over my skin washed away some of the hospital staleness, but not the questions swirling in my mind. By the time I finished and slipped back into the fresh gown, my mother had headed home for a much-needed rest. The room felt quieter without her constant, comforting presence.

Then Victoria arrived. At first, the nurses on duty had turned her away, explaining that only immediate family was permitted. She had called ahead, her voice bright on the line, but rules were rules. I wheeled myself out to the nurses’ station, insisting she was allowed—more than allowed. She was my best friend, even if the full memories of our shared laughter and late-night talks still hovered just out of reach. Victoria burst through with helium balloons bobbing like colorful clouds and a vibrant bouquet of my favorite flowers: delicate orchids and bold sunflowers that filled the air with a sweet, earthy fragrance.

"Hey, doll!" she squealed the moment she spotted me, her energy lighting up the sterile corridor like sunlight breaking clouds.

"Vic!" I cried, wheeling faster to meet her. We collided in a fierce hug, her arms wrapping around me as if she might never let go. The balloons brushed against us, their strings tickling my cheek.

"How have you been?" I asked, pulling back to search her face.

"I’m good! I missed you so much," she said, her eyes glistening. "How have you been since you woke up? Really?"

"I’ve been... good," I replied, though the word felt too small for the whirlwind inside me. I turned to the nurses with a grateful nod. "She’s with me." They smiled and stepped aside in unison.

"Come on," I said, leading her toward my private ward. The balloons trailed behind us like a cheerful parade, brightening the beige walls and sterile equipment. Once inside, she handed me the flowers, their petals soft under my fingers, and tied the balloons to the bed rail so they floated overhead like tiny guardians.

"These are for you," she said, her smile wide and genuine.

"Thank you, Vic." I pulled her into another hug, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume mixed with the blooms. "They’re perfect."

"I’m so happy to see you, Octavia," she murmured as we settled onto the bed together. "Like I said on the phone, I was worried sick. I didn’t sleep well from the day of the accident until we finally talked. Every night I kept picturing the worst. But now that I’ve seen you—really seen you—I’m okay. You look stronger."

"Yep, I am," I nodded, though my mind was already drifting. I paused, the silence stretching just long enough to feel heavy. "What about the others? How are they?"

"You remembered the others?" Victoria asked, surprise flickering across her face.

"Not really. My memory is still foggy on names and faces, but I know I have colleagues. Franklin mentioned them."

"Well, they’re fine," she shrugged, her tone light but careful. I grew quiet again, the question burning on my tongue.

"What about... um, Bella? Bella Washington?" I asked finally, watching her closely.

Victoria’s eyes widened. "You remembered Bella?"

"Not really. Her name just popped into my head one day. I asked Franklin who she was, and he said she’s his ex and my colleague. When I pushed for more, he shut down—said he didn’t want to jumble my memories. He wants me to remember on my own. But I need help, Vic. Tell me about her."

"Franklin’s right, Octavia," she said gently, though her expression was firm. "I don’t want to risk scrambling things either. You need patience. Your brain is healing in its own time."

I glared at her, frustration bubbling up like steam. "Why is everyone telling me to wait? What if the memories never come back fully?"

"Hey, don’t say that—they will," she reassured me, squeezing my hand.

"If they will, why haven’t they by now?" I frowned, sighing deeply. The fog in my mind felt thicker than ever.

"It’s something you should ask Franklin or, better yet, your Doctor. He’ll have the right answers. I’m just here to be your friend, not your doctor."

She was right, of course. I exhaled, letting the tension ease. "Just tell me about what’s going on in your life, then."

"Okay," Victoria said with a warm smile, launching into stories of work deadlines, her latest personal dramas, and the last concert she’d attended. Her voice painted vivid pictures—crowded stages, laughter with new friends, the everyday chaos that felt both familiar and distant. It was good to listen, to feel connected to something beyond these four walls. An hour later, she announced she had to leave; she’d taken a short leave from the office just to see me.

"You could have waited until the weekend," I told her, though I was grateful she hadn’t.

"I couldn’t wait," she admitted, hugging me tightly again. "I needed to see you as soon as possible." She promised to return on the weekend, and I escorted her out, watching the balloons sway gently behind us until she disappeared down the hall.

Half an hour later, Franklin returned, looking sharp in a tailored three-piece suit that made him seem both powerful and approachable. He carried lunch—steaming containers that filled the room with savory aromas—and arranged the tray for me with careful hands.

"How was work?" I asked, watching him move.

"Good," he shrugged, though the faint lines of fatigue around his eyes told a quieter story. "Victoria came by earlier to visit."

"She did? That’s sweet of her...though it sounds like she ditched work for you," he said with a small smile.

"She asked for permission," I replied, already reaching for the food.

"I brought lunch," he added, settling the tray in front of me.

"Thank you." Before I took the first bite, I spoke up. "Guess the first place I’ll go once I’m discharged from here."

"McDonald’s? KFC? Subway?" he suggested playfully.

"As much as I love their food...eww, no. That stuff reeks of calories," I grimaced, and he laughed, the sound rich and warm.

"So where would you like to go?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"The gym," I said with a smile.

"The gym?" He frowned slightly, caught off guard.

"Yep." I nodded. "I want to blow off some steam and keep fit. I feel like I’ve added weight lying here."

"You’ve barely added any," he chuckled, eyes soft.

"You’re only saying that because it’s what I want to hear," I rolled my eyes.

"It’s the truth," he insisted.

"Eat up—your meal’s getting cold," he reminded me gently.

I took a few bites, savoring the warmth, then looked up. "Is Dr. Aris on duty?"

"I don’t know. Why?"

"Because I need to ask him some questions," I said, meeting his gaze.

"About...?"

"My health. Why aren’t all my memories returning now that I’m getting better?" Victoria’s words echoed in my mind, fueling the need for answers.

"It’s a gradual process, Octavia," he sighed, patient as ever.

"You aren’t Dr. Aris, Franklin," I pointed out.

"You’re right—I’m not. But you need to be patient. Memories don’t flood back overnight. They come slowly, like how you remembered your parents first, then Clinton, our wedding outfits, Victoria, Nola, and even—"

"Bella Washington?" I finished for him.

"Yes, her...though you only remembered the name. That’s still a good sign everything will return in its own time, okay?" He sat at the foot of the bed, watching me eat. "Don’t worry that they aren’t rushing back."

"At first I didn’t want them to return," I admitted quietly. "I was scared of remembering why I was angry at you. But when Bella’s name popped up and you said she’s your ex...I need all of it now. The full picture."

"It will return," he said softly, falling quiet as I finished my meal.

When the tray was cleared, he spoke again. "Would you be more comfortable in your own clothes instead of the hospital gown?"

"If it’s possible, yes—I’d love that," I nodded, the idea of normalcy lifting my spirits.

"Okay. I’ll get you something comfortable by tomorrow," he promised. Then, after a pause, "Can you tell me about the nightmare now?"

"My Mom isn’t here yet. I need to tell you both at the same time," I replied.

"Okay, no problem," he nodded, sighing as he leaned back. The room settled into a gentle quiet, but beneath it hummed the unspoken weight of secrets still waiting to surface.