The evening sky outside St. Mary's Hospital was a soft gradient of orange and purple as Alex Hayes sat in his hospital bed, staring blankly at the IV stand beside him. He had spent the day catching up on rest—a rare luxury—but his mind refused to slow down. His assistant, Natalie, had come by earlier to drop off his phone and laptop, but he hadn't touched them. The usual urgency of his work felt distant, muted by something far more unsettling: the strange familiarity he felt with the nurse, Ellie Grace.
Her name echoed in his mind like a distant melody he couldn't quite place. The way she had spoken to him, the way her green eyes softened when she looked at him—it tugged at something buried deep within him. He leaned back against the pillows, rubbing his temples.
"Ellie Grace," he murmured under his breath.
A knock on the door broke his train of thought, and he looked up to see her enter the room, clipboard in hand. She had changed into a fresh set of scrubs, her auburn hair still tied back, but a few stray strands framed her face.
"Mr. Hayes," she greeted, her voice calm but professional. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," he admitted, though his gaze lingered on her. "Thanks to you, apparently."
"It's my job," she replied with a faint smile, stepping closer to check his vitals. "Your blood pressure is improving, and your hydration levels are back to normal. If all goes well, you'll be discharged tomorrow."
Alex watched her closely, his sharp eyes catching the subtle way her hands trembled as she adjusted his IV line. She was trying to appear composed, but there was something beneath the surface—something she was hiding.
"Ellie," he said suddenly, his voice softer than usual.
She froze for a moment before meeting his gaze. "Yes?"
"Have we met before?" he asked, his brows furrowing. "You seem familiar, but I can't figure out why."
Ellie's heart skipped a beat. She had hoped he wouldn't ask. For years, she had wondered if he remembered her, if he ever thought about the summers they spent riding bikes through their quiet neighborhood or the late-night talks by the old oak tree. But now, faced with his question, she didn't know how to answer.
"I don't think so," she said finally, forcing a polite smile. "I meet a lot of patients."
Alex's eyes narrowed, sensing her hesitation. "You're lying."
Her head snapped up, her green eyes widening. "Excuse me?"
"You hesitated," he said, leaning forward slightly. "You know me. Don't you?"
Ellie swallowed hard, her professional demeanor slipping. "It's not important," she said quickly, stepping back.
"It is to me," Alex insisted, his voice firm but not unkind. "I need to know."
She sighed, setting the clipboard down on the bedside table. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We've met before. A long time ago."
Alex's expression shifted from curiosity to something deeper—something that looked almost like regret. "When?"
Ellie hesitated, her heart pounding. "We were neighbors," she said finally. "When we were kids."
The words hit Alex like a thunderclap, and memories began to surface—fragments of a childhood he had long buried beneath the weight of his adult responsibilities. He saw flashes of a little girl with auburn hair and bright green eyes, her laughter ringing through the air as they raced their bikes down the street. He remembered the nights they spent staring at the stars, sharing their dreams and secrets.
"Ellie," he whispered, the name tasting familiar now. "Ellie Grace."
She nodded, her throat tightening. "That's me."
His mind raced, piecing together the fragments. "Your family... you just disappeared one night. No warning, no goodbye. One day you were there, and the next, you were gone."
Tears pricked Ellie's eyes as she nodded again. "We went bankrupt," she admitted, her voice shaky. "My dad's business failed, and we lost everything. We had to leave in the middle of the night."
Alex's chest tightened at her words. He remembered waking up to find her house empty, the windows dark and the yard eerily quiet. It had been one of the worst days of his life, losing his best friend without explanation.
"I looked for you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I begged my parents to tell me where you went, but no one knew. I thought... I thought I'd never see you again."
Ellie bit her lip, struggling to hold back her tears. "I didn't want to leave," she said softly. "But I didn't have a choice."
For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of their shared past settling between them like a tangible thing.
"You're different now," Alex said finally, his voice tinged with both admiration and sadness. "But I'd know you anywhere."
Ellie blinked back her tears and managed a small smile. "You're different too. A little less messy, though."
They both chuckled, the sound breaking the tension.
"I guess life has a funny way of bringing people back together," Alex said, his gaze locking onto hers.
Ellie nodded, feeling the faint stirrings of hope. But as much as she wanted to believe in fate, she couldn't ignore the fear creeping in. Their lives were worlds apart now—his world of billion-dollar deals and luxury, and her world of hospital shifts and struggling to make ends meet.
"I should let you rest," she said abruptly, standing up.
"Ellie," Alex called, stopping her in her tracks.
She turned back, her heart aching at the intensity in his gaze.
"This time," he said quietly, "I'm not letting you disappear."
Ellie didn't respond. She simply nodded and walked out of the room, her mind racing with emotions she wasn't ready to face.