The Stranger

The dim light of the hospital room cast a soft glow over the quiet space. Alexander Hayes stirred, his eyes fluttering open to meet the sterile white ceiling tiles above him. His body felt heavy, his throat dry, and for a moment, he struggled to orient himself. Memories of his collapse flickered through his mind like broken images—his boardroom, the dizziness, the voices calling his name.

"Good morning, Mr. Hayes," a calm, melodic voice broke the silence.

Turning his head slowly, Alex's gaze landed on a nurse standing by his bedside, checking his vitals with practiced precision. Her auburn hair was tied neatly into a ponytail, and her green eyes held a quiet confidence that contrasted with the sterile surroundings. She looked up from her clipboard, offering a polite smile.

"You're awake earlier than expected," she said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Alex squinted, his voice raspy as he asked, "Where am I?"

"St. Mary's Hospital," she replied, her tone gentle but firm. "You collapsed due to exhaustion and dehydration. Your assistant informed us you've been overworking yourself without proper rest or nutrition."

His brow furrowed at her bluntness, but he was too drained to argue. "How long have I been here?"

"Just overnight," she said, jotting something on his chart. "We're keeping you for observation, but if your vitals remain stable, you can leave by the evening."

Alex nodded faintly, glancing around the room. The stark contrast between the luxury of his penthouse and the simplicity of the hospital struck him, but he quickly dismissed the thought. "I don't have time for this," he muttered, attempting to sit up.

The nurse stepped forward, her hand lightly pressing against his shoulder to stop him. "You're not going anywhere until you're cleared," she said, her voice firm but not unkind. "If you push yourself again, it could lead to something far worse."

There was an authority in her tone that made Alex pause. He studied her for a moment, taking in the faint freckles across her nose and the determined set of her jaw. There was something oddly familiar about her, though he couldn't quite place it.

"What's your name?" he asked, his voice quieter this time.

"Ellie," she replied, meeting his gaze directly. "Ellie Grace."

For a split second, Alex felt a flicker of recognition, like a half-forgotten dream tugging at the edges of his memory. Ellie Grace. The name felt... familiar. But he quickly dismissed the thought—he had no time for nostalgia.

"You seem... familiar," he said, his tone almost accusatory, though it lacked real heat. "Have we met before?"

Ellie hesitated for a fraction of a second, her professional demeanor faltering ever so slightly. Her fingers tightened around the clipboard, but she quickly regained her composure.

"Not that I'm aware of," she said smoothly, though her heart was pounding in her chest. How could he not remember her? She had spent years pushing the memory of Alex Hayes—the boy next door, her childhood best friend, and her first love—out of her mind. She had told herself it didn't matter anymore. But seeing him now, the same piercing gray eyes but in a man's face instead of a boy's, brought a flood of emotions she wasn't ready to face.

"Hmm," Alex murmured, leaning back against the pillows. His exhaustion made it difficult to pursue the thought further. "It doesn't matter."

Ellie forced a small smile. "You should focus on resting. I'll have someone bring you some water and light food. Let me know if you need anything."

As she turned to leave, Alex's voice stopped her. "Ellie."

She turned back, her heart skipping a beat.

"Thank you," he said, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable.

She nodded, quickly leaving the room before her emotions betrayed her.

---

Ellie leaned against the wall outside his room, her breathing uneven. She had spent years trying to forget the night her family had packed up and left everything behind. They had been forced to leave their home, their friends, and the life they knew—all because of the financial ruin brought on by her father's failed business. And in the process, she had lost Alex, her best friend, without so much as a goodbye.

She had often wondered what had become of him, but never in her wildest dreams did she imagine he would become the man lying in that hospital bed—a powerful billionaire whose face graced magazines and financial news outlets.

How could he not remember her? she wondered, feeling a pang of hurt. But perhaps it was for the best. The Alex she had known was long gone, replaced by this guarded, calculating man.

With a deep breath, Ellie pushed herself off the wall and returned to her rounds. Her patients needed her, and she couldn't afford to let her emotions get in the way. Whatever connection they had in the past was irrelevant now.

But as she moved through the hospital, she couldn't shake the feeling that fate wasn't done with them yet.