Chapter eighty two

Sophia lay on the hospital bed, the sterile smell of antiseptic filling her nostrils. The beeping of machines created a rhythm that felt too foreign, too clinical for her shattered heart. She stared at the ceiling, hoping against hope that this was all just a bad dream. But the reality was harsh and unforgiving.

"It can't be possible. Alex couldn't have forgotten me… This doesn't make any sense. I mean, he should have remembered me," she muttered, tears streaming down her cheeks like a river of despair. The memories of their time together flooded her mind—the laughter, the quiet moments, the promises made under starlit skies. All of it felt like a cruel joke now.

Just then, Rachel walked into the ward, her expression a mix of concern and sympathy. She quietly sat beside Sophia, unsure of what to say. The silence hung heavy between them, punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of the machines.