Chapter 111

~ Clinton ~

I was happy—genuinely happy—that Octavia remembered me. And I was even happier that her father had decided to let me see her, despite Franklin’s protests. I guess Ben was simply doing what any father would do to make his daughter happy. That was good enough for me.

After Franklin stormed out, Ben returned to the ward.

"So I just spoke to your mom," he said, smiling at Octavia. "She’s already working on that homemade chicken soup and sourdough breadsticks. You’ll have a proper dinner tonight."

"That sounds great," Octavia replied, her smile lighting up the room.

Ben turned to me. "Since this is your good friend, I suppose proper introductions are in order." He extended his hand. "I’m Ben Herman."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Herman," I said, shaking it firmly.

"Likewise." He gave a warm nod, then glanced at the door. "I was actually about to step out and grab something to eat before you arrived. Would you like to join me?" 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

"No, I’m good, thanks," I replied, shaking my head. "But thank you for the offer."

"Alright then." Ben looked back at me, his expression turning serious but kind. "Mr. Clinton, I need you to promise me you won’t do any funny business with my daughter while I’m gone."

"Don’t worry, sir. Nothing like that will happen. I’ll stay right here until you get back. You have nothing to worry about."

"Okay." Ben turned to Octavia. "I’ll be right back, sweetheart."

"Okay, Dad," she said softly.

Once he left, I smiled at her. "Your father seems like a really nice person."

"He is," she agreed, nodding.

I pulled the chair closer to her bed. "How have you been since you woke up?"

"Honestly?" She exhaled slowly. "I’ve been feeling strange. They told me I was in a coma for eight whole days—more than a week. It feels like the accident happened yesterday and I just woke up today. Time really flies when you’re unconscious, I guess."

"But you’re okay, right? Nothing too severe?" I asked, concern tightening my chest.

"The doctor said I have amnesia. That’s why I can’t remember Franklin or how the accident even happened. Everything feels foggy... but at least I remember you and my parents. That’s something, right?"

"I’m really sorry you’re going through this," I told her gently.

"It’s fine," she shrugged, though her eyes told a different story.

"Don’t worry. Your memories will come back. It’s just a matter of time." I told her.

I sighed and leaned back in the chair, my thoughts drifting to Franklin. The pure rage on his face when he saw me with Octavia...he was consumed by jealousy. It was written all over him.

"I’m surprised you remember me but not Franklin," I said quietly.

"I’m surprised too," she admitted. "I should remember the man I married more than my friend, right? That makes sense, doesn’t it?"

I nodded. "We’re kind of...connected, you know."

"Connected how?" she asked, tilting her head.

"It’s complicated, but I’ll break it down simply. My father has some kind of long-standing grudge against Franklin’s family—for no good reason, really. And Franklin doesn’t like me because he thinks I might try to steal you away from him."

Her eyes widened. "Well...would you?"

I paused, meeting her gaze. "Only if you let me."

She stared at me for a moment, then let out a soft breath. "That’s fair. But if Franklin really is my husband, then I’m supposed to have feelings for him, aren’t I? That’s why people get married."

I shook my head inwardly. She had no idea her marriage to Franklin had been nothing more than a business arrangement, a marriage of convenience between their families. Should I tell her the truth? Or should I stay quiet and let her memories return on their own?

Telling her now would be manipulation. I had already broken her trust once before. If I took advantage of her amnesia, and her real memories came flooding back later, she would hate me all over again. As painful as it was, she deserved the truth—but she deserved to remember it herself.

"It’s better if you regain those memories on your own instead of me filling in the blanks," I said carefully. "Telling you everything might complicate things and mess with your head. I don’t want that."

"That means you know what happened between us before I lost my memories of him," she said, studying my face.

"Not everything... but yeah, I know enough. Still, it’s best if it comes back naturally."

"Okay," she whispered, then leaned back against the pillows as I helped adjust them for her.

"Hey," she said suddenly, a mischievous spark in her eyes. "Remember when you were acting like Dr. No from the first James Bond movie?"

My eyes widened. "You remember that?"

"Mmm-hmm." She grinned and dropped her voice into a perfect Dr. No impression: "I’m afraid you are just too late, Mr. Bond."

I burst out laughing. "Damn, you really remembered."

"It was one of those iconic memories you just don’t forget," she said, laughing along with me.

"I’m really glad you didn’t forget it," I told her, warmth spreading through my chest. "Really."

"I also remember that I forgave you for something you did wrong to me," she continued, her expression turning thoughtful. "I can’t remember what it was, but I know I was in a forgiving mood."

I frowned slightly. ’Would she eventually remember the reason I broke her trust? Would she resent me again? Hate me?’

"What do you think it was?" she asked, curious.

"Octavia..." I began carefully. "Like I said, I think it’s better if you remember everything on your own. Telling you might complicate things, and I don’t want to risk messing with your recovery."

She reached out and took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Okay. Thank you. I hope I remember soon."

"Me too," I whispered.

"I think the reason I couldn’t forget you is because you’re a good person," she said softly. "A good person my brain refused to let go of."

"Sometimes I don’t believe I’m a good person," I admitted.

"Why would you think that?"

"I don’t know... not everyone on this planet is good, Octavia."

"You are a good person, Clinton," she said firmly, squeezing my hand again. "Just believe that."

I missed her touch more than I could say. Seeing her awake and smiling made everything feel a little lighter.

"I’m happy you’re finally awake, gorgeous," I told her.

"Gorgeous?" She looked a little confused, but there was a hint of a smile.

"It’s the nickname I gave you," I explained. "Because you are gorgeous."

She tilted her head slightly, still processing it. "I guess I forgot that part... but I like it."

"I’m glad you do."

She sighed and settled deeper into the bed. "I feel exhausted... like I ran a marathon, even though I just napped earlier."

"Get some real sleep this time," I said softly. "Not just a nap. You need it."

"Yeah," she murmured.

I pulled the duvet up to cover her properly. She looked up at me. "Are you going to leave now?"

"Only if you want me to."

"Don’t leave. Stay with me until I fall asleep?"

I nodded. "Okay."

She smiled, then closed her eyes. Her face already had more color than the pale, lifeless version I’d seen when she was unconscious. She yawned once, and within minutes her breathing evened out. Soft snores filled the quiet room.

A few minutes later, Ben returned, carrying a small takeout bag. He paused when he saw her sleeping and spoke in a hushed voice. "Oh, she’s asleep."

"Yeah," I said, standing up quietly. "Now that I know she’s fine, I should head out."

"Okay." He nodded.

"Thank you again for letting me see Octavia, Mr. Herman. It means a lot."

"You’re welcome. I did it for her sake. I didn’t want any complications affecting her health. If seeing you helps her, then who am I to stop it?"

I gave him a grateful nod. "Thank you once again. I’ll be going now."

"Take care, Mr. Clinton. Goodbye."

"Bye, Mr. Herman."

I took one last long look at Octavia sleeping peacefully, then slipped out of the ward as quietly as I could.

I was happy to have seen her.

When I reached my car, my phone buzzed with a notification. I pulled it out and smiled. Annabel Oakley Reagan had added me as a friend on Snapchat. I opened the app, accepted the request, and felt a small, satisfied grin spread across my face. Annie really was determined to be my friend on every platform. I liked that.

With a final glance at the hospital, I started the engine and drove off.