CHAPTER 070

CHAPTER 070
«TRISTIAN’S POINT OF VIEW»

I gawked at the nurse inscrutably and watched as she wrote on her chart after evaluating my body. Why?

"Just a few more days and you're good to go," she said, and I looked at her with a tiny smile before moving my gaze to my hands and absently fondling my fingers. I was in a hospital. why?

Soon, I heard the sound of the door opening, and I lifted my head and found a doctor ambling in with a warm, vast smile on his face. Why?

"Good to have you here with us again, kid," he expressed, now standing beside my bed. "How do you feel?"

"Lost and empty," I mumbled.

I watched as the doctor nodded. "You have been in a coma for a few weeks. I’m going to ask you a few questions, and you must answer me, got it?" he inquired, and I nodded, my throat suddenly dry. "What's your name?"

Why was he asking me that? "Tristan," I retorted anyway, the name leaving my lips before I could question it. That was my name, right?

He nodded once more. "How old are you?"

I stared at him silently, unease curling in my chest. What kind of question was that? "Nineteen. I’ll be turning twenty in two months... I think."

He sighed, a faint crease forming between his brows. "Actually, you're turning twenty-one in two months."

I looked away and went back to fondling my hands, my fingers fidgeting against each other. "What happened to me? Why can't I remember anything?" My voice came out quieter than I expected, almost uncertain.

"You got into a car crash that damaged your head and heart," he replied, and I nodded slowly, trying to piece it together. How careless of me. What was I thinking? Was I drunk? Angry? What happened? The questions piled up, pressing against my skull.

"Don't stress your brain; everything will be elucidated eventually, as the accident might have caused a change in your personality," the doctor rehearsed. At that moment, the door once again opened, and I lifted my head, my attention shifting instantly, and watched as three people walked in with a little girl in their midst.

My brows furrowed. When did little nut grow that much? Was I really asleep for that long? And I thought that idiot had brown hair. When did he dye it black?

"Do you know them?"

I sighed and looked away, my gaze dropping back to my hands. "My dad, my stepmom, my stepsister, and my best friend."

"Tristan!" I heard Jarvis suddenly screech, his voice cracking, and before I knew it, he was grasping me tightly, nearly mashing me with his arms. I cackled and pushed him back lightly.

"That's so weird, man—" I started to say, but my face dropped as I watched tears spill down his face. "Hey, when did you become a crybaby?" I found myself wiping his tears with my thumbs, the gesture instinctive, and he immediately grasped me again like he was afraid I’d disappear. How cheesy, and when did he get clingy?

"You got me so scared. You even missed graduation; it was so tedious without you," he ranted over my shoulder, his words tumbling into each other, and my brows came together in turmoil. I thought I still had a year and a half before graduation. What happened to my memories? Was I really turning 21?

"It's a miracle you didn't lose all your memories as you had smashed your head so badly. And you also have hypertrophic cardiomyopathy..."

I muted out the rest, the words fading into a fading sound, toning everything out as I just stared at the door. Was someone supposed to walk in? Why did it feel like there was some presence behind that door, something waiting?

"Is someone behind that door?" I asked out, my voice quieter now, uncertain, and Jarvis wheezed out a shaky laugh.

"No, what made you think that?" the doctor asked, his tone careful, and I shook my head.

"It's probably nothing."

If someone were there, they would have walked in already. Slowly, my hand went up to my chest, a pinching pain shooting through me as I tried so hard to remember. It was like I was forgetting something important, something just out of reach, and whatever that was, it was standing behind that door.

Suddenly, I jumped off the bed and pulled out the wires attached to my hands, the sharp tug barely registering.

"Tristan, what are you doing?" I heard the panicked voices of everyone, overlapping, but I was already sprinting towards the door. I pushed it open and found a nurse who was about to walk in.

"Sorry," I said quickly, my breath uneven, and I was about to take off when a hand grabbed my wrist. I reeled my head to find my dad.

"You are endangering yourself."

I didn't care. I wanted to shout, but instead I pulled my hand from his grip and ran towards where my heart was leading me, that strange pull growing stronger with every step. Waking up from a coma and running after something unknown was not on my bingo card.

"TRISTAN!"

Plenty of voices called after me, but they all flew over my head as I jogged down the stairs, wearing nothing but the hospital gown. I raced out of the hospital and arrived just in time to watch as a car instantly drove away.

"Come back!" I yelled, my voice straining, but it was pointless as the black car drove further and further away from me. It was at that moment that I realized my fast-beating heart and my breath coming out too quickly, and too sharply. My hand went up and clutched my chest as I fell to my knees.

What was wrong with me?

"Tristan, you stupid shit. You are going to kill yourself!" I felt Jarvis support me, his hands gripping mine as he helped me back on my feet, but I found myself falling back again, my strength giving out. Suddenly, my vision swirled, the world tilting, and everything went blank.

Mi Amor. A voice echoes in my head before it all goes quiet.

~~~~

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I could barely recognize my body, which seemed to have changed so strangely. I felt like I had been sleeping for a very long time and suddenly woke to find myself more mature than I remembered. But as I stared at the mirror, my deserted green orbs stared back at me. They seemed dreadful and isolated. Why?

What was I missing?

I sighed and cleared my head, forcing the thoughts away. I needed to stop thinking. I had been passing out a lot lately, and the doctor said it wasn't good for my health, but I was trying too hard to remember. I felt like half of my life was gone. Everything felt so bizarre, so unfamiliar in front of me. And too much had changed.

A knock pulled me out of my thoughts, and I reeled my head to find Jarvis standing there with his hands crossed over his chest, giving me a cranny look. I shrugged. "What?"

"Are you okay?"

Jarvis had been telling me what had happened over the years I seemed to have missed, filling in the gaps I couldn’t reach.

I shrugged again, frustration bubbling up. "Am I okay, Jarvis? I feel like an enormous part of me is gone. I feel deserted. I just want whatever’s gone back."

"Want what back?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I don't know. My heart is yearning for it, and I don't even know what it is, and it's really frustrating. I can't seem to remember, no matter how hard I try, and I just keep passing out."

I heard Jarvis sigh before he walked forward and took hold of my wrist. My gaze met his. "You have hypertrophic cardiomyopathy now, you aren't allowed to think much."

I rolled my eyes, a hint of bitterness creeping in. "Am I allowed to do anything anymore? I was discharged a week ago, and everyone has been treating me like some baby, and I'm hating every minute of it. I feel like I'm in some hell that I need to escape from. My home doesn't feel welcoming, Jarvis. I'm returning to LA with you. I can't stay here—I feel like I would die."

Jarvis chuckled softly. "You're being dramatic. Come on, dinner is ready." He tugged my wrist, and I followed him out of the bathroom, though the unease lingered.

We got to the dining table a few seconds later, where everyone was already waiting for us. We sat beside each other, and dinner started awkwardly, the silence heavy.

Suddenly, my gaze went to the empty chair opposite me, and I felt a huge sense of familiarity. Was someone supposed to be there, other than Dean?

Dad said Dean lost his life falling down the stairs. Poor kid… how did it happen? What was he thinking? What was I thinking? 

"Are you alright?"

The sound of my stepmom's voice pulled me out of my trance, and I realized I had stopped eating and was just staring at the empty chair with a faint smile on my face, which instantly faded. I nodded and continued eating.

Dad soon cleared his throat, gaining our attention. "Now that you're stable, I think it's time we talk about your wedding."

My spoon dropped, creating a loud, jarring sound. My what? My gaze instantly went to my dad. He seemed different. He had outgrown his beard, his hair was also longer, falling messily on his shoulders, his eyes were an unfamiliar dark green, while his jaw was always clenched. The aura around him was dark and cold. It was like he was on edge, like he could snap at any moment.

"I'm getting married?" To whom?

"To Miss Jessica Stones. We've already talked, and you had agreed to marry her. After that, you will take over the company. I'm retiring, and you're no longer a kid."

My lips parted to protest, but the sharp glare Dad sent me was unnerving. It was like he was daring me to go against his words, like he would bring hell down on me if I did. I swallowed back my words and just nodded, even though everything in me resisted.

That glare meant nothing. I was not getting married to any stranger I didn't know. I wasn't stupid. I knew they were hiding important things from me, even Jarvis, but I wouldn't let them use my illness to their advantage. Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy hadn't made me weak.