The silence between them grew heavier, dense like fog thickening in a confined space, making it harder for either of them to breathe.

Victor was the first to break it. His voice cracked, carrying disbelief and something darker, something uneasy.
“Where did you get that?”

Cecilia took a careful step back, instinctively retreating. Even though Victor had already put distance between them earlier, it felt like he was silently begging for more now.

“One of the nurses who transferred me in the ambulance came to see me,” Cecilia said, her voice steady though her heart wasn’t. “She told me it fell that night, slipped beneath one of the machines. They only managed to recover it today.”

A faint, sad smile tugged at Cecilia’s lips. Unlike Victor, she couldn’t mask what she felt, everything was there in her face, plain and aching. She held up the ring, raising it to her eyes. “This—is this an engagement ring? Are we engaged?”

She looked directly at him, searching his unreadable face. “I know what the doctor said, but this-this is good news, isn’t it? If it’s really an engagement ring—it matters. It’s not some overwhelming truth, it’s just a small detail—an important one, like the one I’m asking about.”

Victor’s voice was cold, too carefully measured when he finally spoke. “Did you remember something?”

Cecilia shook her head. “No. But when I woke up, you were angry. And I know it wasn’t because of the accident. You didn’t want me near you. And I-I had this dream. I was searching for something, but I don’t know what it was and I need it.” She pressed her hand to her chest.

“Something feels wrong, and you-you’re distant,” she said, almost accusingly. “I’m going crazy trying to figure out why I took your car. If you said I stole it, then we fought. And if I was out there driving, it must have been for something important. I must’ve been distracted and—”

“Hey, hey. Calm down.” Victor was quick to close the distance this time, wrapping her in a firm, grounding hug. It was almost identical to the desperate, relieved embrace he’d given her the day she woke up. “Breathe, Ceci. Slow down. It’s okay. We didn’t fight.”

Cecilia followed his lead, pulling in a long, ragged breath and realizing just how badly she’d needed air. She clung to him, suddenly aware she might’ve been on the verge of a panic attack, though she wasn’t sure; she’d never had one before.

“You’re overthinking something that doesn’t matter,” Victor murmured as he gently pushed her back just enough to cradle her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Of course I was upset about the accident. You almost died. But you and I—we’re fine. There was no fight. There’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“But—” Cecilia gripped the ring tighter in her fist. She knew she should stay quiet, Victor was reassuring her, telling her everything was fine, so why did she feel the need to keep saying something was wrong? “Why didn’t you tell me?” she repeated.

Victor sighed softly, shaking his head. “You already know. The doctor said not to pressure you. Even small details could hurt you.” His voice turned tender, careful, like he was afraid she might break. “I didn’t want to push you to remember anything you’re not ready for. And you’re not searching for anything. You and I are here. Together. That’s the only thing that matters now. You and me.”

Cecilia blinked. Victor’s voice, so sweet and steady, soothed her scattered thoughts. “Really?”

“Really.” There was a long pause before Victor sighed again and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Does it bother you? Being engaged to me?” He tried to sound playful, but a thread of seriousness laced the words.

“No!” Cecilia’s eyes widened in alarm. “It’s not that—it’s just—you feel different. You’re not the Victor I remember.”

Victor rested his forehead against her neck, his breath hot against her skin. “It’s been seven years, Ceci. You can’t expect things to be exactly the same.”

Feeling his breath on her skin, Cecilia couldn’t hold back anymore. She cupped Victor’s face and forced him to look at her. Then, with trembling anticipation, she closed the distance and kissed him.

It started soft, hesitant, like neither of them quite believed this was happening. Their lips brushed lightly, testing the reality of the other. But the hesitation didn’t last. The need surged up like a tide they’d both been holding back for far too long.

They devoured each other, as hungrily as they had in countless stolen moments on the worn couch of their apartment. Victor pressed his tongue against Cecilia’s lips, coaxing them apart, and when she yielded, their mouths found a familiar, intoxicating rhythm. It was so sweet, so achingly perfect that when they finally had to part for air, they both groaned in frustration at the separation.

“Do you love me?” Victor asked, his voice low, raw.

Cecilia smiled. “Of course I do.”

“Then everything’s fine.” Victor returned her smile, though his eyes flickered with something else, something more complicated.

“Now get ready. I have to sign some papers, but I’ll come back for you after.” As he spoke, he took her right hand and carefully slipped the engagement ring from her fingers.

“What are you doing?” Cecilia’s heart twisted.

“This thing’s bothering you too much. It’s better if I keep it,” Victor said, though his tone sounded almost forced.

“No.” Cecilia tried to snatch it back, and when she did, she caught the way Victor’s brow tightened.

“You’ve been staring at it, trying to remember, and it’s hurting you,” he told her, his voice growing sharper.
“It’s better if I hold onto it. Later I’ll give you another one, a better one.”

Something in the way he emphasized that last part felt like a challenge, a dare.

“But I don’t want another one,” Cecilia said, the words thick with stubbornness. “I want to remember when you gave me this. And—”

“We’re together,” Victor cut in, his voice insistent. “That’s the only thing that matters. Even if you never remember, you’re alive, and you’re with me.” He turned away and started for the door.

“Victor—” Cecilia caught his hand, making him turn back.

“Do you love me?”

The question made Victor hesitate. “This isn’t about that. You know it’s because I care about you, that’s why I can’t give it back,” he evaded, refusing to answer directly.

“It’s better this way. Don’t insist, you don’t need this now.”

“I need it,” Cecilia shot back stubbornly.

“Maybe I don’t remember, but this is proof. Proof that you and I were building a life together.” She smiled, and the look clearly threw Victor off. In that tiny window of hesitation, she made her move, slipping the ring from his grasp with a light, practiced motion.

“I promise I won’t obsess over it. I’ll be patient. Besides,” she added, softening her voice, “you better hurry up. I’m already looking forward to going home with you.”

Victor stared at her for several seconds, his expression unreadable. Then, wordlessly, he turned and left the room, the door closing a little too hard behind him.

Cecilia looked down at the ring in her hand. Rather than slipping it onto her finger, she threaded it onto the chain of her grandmother’s necklace and tucked it into the folds of her shirt, hiding it close to her heart.

She was confused, yes. But she wasn’t a fool and she knew, as surely as she knew her own name, that something wasn’t right. Sooner or later, Victor would have to tell her what she was searching for.

Or she would find it herself.