His Revenge, Ruthless

A sharp, antiseptic scent filled the air before she even opened her eyes. The cold air pressed against her skin, her body feeling strangely heavy, as if she were sinking into the mattress beneath her.

Beeping. A slow, rhythmic sound, steady and unrelenting.

A hospital.

Panic slithered through her chest as she tried to move, but her limbs felt weak. Something tugged at her arm-an IV. Forcing her eyes open, she winced at the bright fluorescent lights.

Where was she?

The question echoed in her head, followed by another, more terrifying one.

Who was she?

A sharp pang of fear shot through her. Her mind was a blank slate, void of any recollection of her life before this moment. There were no names, no faces, no memories-just a hollow void where they should have been.

Still drowning in confusion, she heard footsteps. A nurse rushed into the room, her face breaking into a bright smile as she looked down at her.

"You're awake! How are you feeling?" the nurse asked, her voice filled with warmth and excitement as she checked her vitals.

She tried to speak, to tell her she felt weak and disoriented, but her throat was dry, and her voice barely came out as a whisper.

"You've been in a coma for three months. We were starting to lose hope," the nurse continued, oblivious to the panic building inside her.

Three months? Her heart pounded. She had been unconscious for three whole months? What had happened to her?

The nurse must have noticed her rising anxiety because she quickly added, "Don't worry. You don't have to force yourself to speak. Your body has been through a lot, so this is normal."

Normal? How could anything about this be normal?

The nurse kept talking, mentioning how her case had been something of a miracle, how the doctors had been invested in saving her. But the words blurred into the background, drowned out by the deafening roar of her thoughts.

Nothing about this felt real.

"I'll get the doctor," the nurse said, giving her a reassuring pat on the arm before disappearing out the door.

Moments later, she returned with an elderly man in a white coat, his expression gentle yet professional.

"How are you feeling, Laura?" he asked.

Her breath caught.

Laura.

The name felt foreign, like it belonged to someone else. But it was the only piece of identity she had.

"My body feels heavy," she finally managed, her voice hoarse and brittle.

The doctor nodded. "That's expected. Your body has been inactive for a long time, but you'll regain your strength soon."

She swallowed, her throat tightening. "I... I can't remember anything. I don't know who I am. I only know my name because you called me that."

His expression softened. "Memory loss isn't uncommon in cases like yours. Your brain suffered significant trauma, but don't panic-your memories will likely return with time."

His reassurance did nothing to calm the unease twisting in her gut.

Before she could say anything, his next words sent her mind spiraling.

"We need to conduct a scan to check your baby's health. Now that you're awake, we need to ensure everything is fine."

She blinked. "My... what?"

"Your baby," he repeated gently. "You were pregnant when you were brought in."

The room spun. Her breath hitched as a cold chill swept through her veins.

P-Pregnant?

Her hands instinctively moved to her stomach, but she felt nothing different. No memories, no connection. Just emptiness.

How could she be pregnant when she didn't even know who she was?

Her pulse pounded in her ears. If she had a husband, why wasn't he here? Why wasn't anyone looking for her?

Or worse...

Was she even married at all?

The thought made her stomach churn. Her mind raced with horrifying possibilities. If she had no family searching for her, no husband at her bedside, then what kind of life had she lived before this?

The doctor must have sensed her distress because he spoke again, his voice gentle. "Don't stress yourself too much, Laura. Your body is still healing."

She barely heard him. Her mind was spinning with too many unanswered questions.

Over the next few days, she regained enough strength to move around the hospital room. Her body was still weak, but she pushed through. Staying still made her restless, made the questions in her mind too loud.

One evening, as she sat staring out the window, a soft knock came at her door.

An older woman entered, carrying a small tray of food. Her silver hair was tied back neatly, her kind eyes studying Laura with something close to recognition.

"You must be starving," she said with a gentle smile.

She wasn't. But she nodded anyway.

The woman set the tray down and took a seat beside her bed. "You don't remember anything, do you?"

Her throat tightened. "No."

The woman sighed, her gaze distant. "It must be terrifying... waking up with no past."

She lowered her eyes. "It is."

For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then, the woman reached into her pocket and pulled out a small chain with a pendant. She placed it gently on the tray beside her.

"I found this with your belongings when you were brought in."

Laura stared at it, hesitant. The pendant was gold, simple but elegant. When she picked it up, she noticed initials engraved on the back:

A.S.

A strange sensation gripped her, like she was supposed to remember something. Someone.

The woman must have seen the confusion on her face because she added, "You shouldn't fight fate; everything will happen at its desired time."

"You have a long road ahead of you, dear," she said kindly. "But you're not alone."

She left the room, leaving Laura staring at the pendant.

Who was A.S.?

And why did something about those initials feel...familiar?

The next morning, the doctor returned to check on her, as he was going he turned to speak to her.

She swallowed hard, unsure of where this was going.

She had nothing to her name. No identity beyond Laura.

The doctor smiled warmly. "You'll be discharged tomorrow."

She nodded, but deep down, unease curled in her chest.

"How about the hospital bills? Will they let me leave without paying?"

The doctor's expression shifted. "Well... that's the surprising part. Your bills were paid in full."

Her heart skipped a beat. "By who?"

He shook his head. "We don't know. It was paid in cash the night you were brought in. The person kept shouting for us to save you and the baby, then vanished before we could ask any questions."

A shiver ran down her spine.

Someone knew she was pregnant.

Someone paid her bills.

Someone disappeared the moment she was wheeled into surgery.

A terrifying thought whispered through her mind.

What if the person who saved her...