chapter 2
646 Words
He was constantly busy, either replying to emails or on calls.
The scale of his company had left him with little personal time.
I asked suddenly, "Do I have any friends? Can I invite them to keep me company?"
He paused, recalling someone.
"One," he said.
There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice when he mentioned "one," as if to say how pitiful my social circle was.
He made a call, then turned to me. "She'll be here in half an hour. I have a meeting and need to go to the company."
I nodded. "Okay."
After speaking, he gathered his laptop and left.
I could distinctly feel his hurried steps as he left.
This hospital room repulsed him.
As soon as Belinda entered, she hugged me tightly.
"You're finally awake, you silly girl, you scared me," she said.
Belinda had visited me while I was in a coma.
She hugged me tightly.
But I gently broke free, looking at her in confusion.
"Who are you?" I asked.
Belinda was taken aback. "Emma, you don't remember me? I'm Belinda. We've known each other since we were kids."
I cut her off. "I see. You're my friend. Thank you for coming to see me. Sorry. I hit my head and lost my memory of many people," I explained.
I pointed to my head.
Belinda suddenly burst into tears.
That afternoon, she held onto me, recounting many of our shared past memories.
She said it was okay if I couldn't remember; she would help me recall them.
But my gaze fell on her slightly swollen belly.
"Are you pregnant?" I asked.
"Yes, about a month along," she replied, her mood sinking again.
It turned out that Brown was taking her abroad to give birth, but with my amnesia, she was worried about me.
"I'll be fine. Just go. Once you've had the baby, come back, and I'll be the child's godmother," I reassured her.
When Brown came to pick her up, she hugged me again.
I gently hugged her back.
In my heart, I silently wished: Belinda, you must be happy.
Johnson arrived at the hospital late, reeking of alcohol.
He went to the bathroom, and I picked up his wallet from the floor.
When he emerged, I was holding a small photo: "Who is she?"
Johnson paused.
"Do you really want to know who she is?" he asked.
I didn't expect him to be so straightforward.
My hand, suspended in the air, stopped.
He reached out, took the photo back, and placed it securely in his wallet.
No pretense.
I sat on the bed for a while.
He untied the bathrobe and got into bed.
I got out of bed, walked to the window, and opened it, letting the cold wind hit my face.
He abruptly closed the window: "Are you kidding me!"
I turned and sat on the sofa.
"Are you not going to sleep so late?" he asked, his fists clenched, showing signs of agitation.
"Go to sleep first. I'm a bit hungry and plan to order takeout."
He was taken aback.
Soon, the food arrived. I ordered a large portion of fried rice.
I lowered my head and ate spoonful after spoonful.
"Is it that delicious? Your stomach can't handle that," he remarked.
"But it really is tasty. I've been eating porridge for several days," I responded.
I shoveled another spoonful in, probably looking quite pitiful with rice grains stuck to the corner of my mouth.
"Johnson, if that girl and I were both in danger, who would you save?" I asked.
He was stunned, then his brow furrowed.
A long silence followed.
"So you would save her?"
He just took out a lighter, seemingly wanting to light a cigarette.
But I looked up: "I already guessed it. There's no need to answer."
Then, I stood up and walked towards the bathroom.
- Writer
