I stood alone in front of the psychiatric department's reception desk. The doctor who brought me here was gone. Just like that. He said he had to rush to his next appointment and disappeared before I could even say thank you. One second he was beside me, the next—nothing but empty air.
"Hello, nurse. I have an appointment at ten," I said politely at the reception desk.
Ah—what a coincidence. It was the nurse I saw earlier in the elevator—the one with the cute dimples who gushed about her department's most popular doctor, Alexius. Judging by the way he rushed off earlier, I guess she wasn't exaggerating. Cold, unreadable, and ridiculously good-looking. A typical heartthrob.
"Yes, of course. May I have your name, miss?" she asked, typing into her computer.
"Mia Isabella Ceneric," I replied.
She paused, her eyes scanning the screen. "Please head to Room 7 at the end of the corridor. Your attending doctor is already waiting for you."
"Thank you," I said, smiling with relief.
I walked down the long, sterile corridor. The psychiatric department was quiet but gloomy—patients waited on either side, some staring blankly at the walls, others whispering to themselves. It felt cold, like the air itself held stories of sadness.
This was my first time in a place like this—even though, in my previous life, I'd struggled for years with depression and anxiety. Unemployment, family breakdowns, betrayal—they'd all left scars. The heaviness in my chest, the overwhelming sadness… it hadn't gone away. Not really.
Focus, Mia. This is a second chance. Make it count. You can be happy. Just breathe.
I whispered to myself and gave my cheek a light slap for courage.
Knock knock. I tapped gently on the door and took a deep breath.
"Come in," said a man's voice—calm, warm.
I opened the door just a little to peek inside. Then I froze.
"You…?"
It was him. Dr. Alexius.
He looked just as shocked, rising from his seat. "Mia Isabella? I thought it was just someone with the same name."
"Hahaha….Unfortunately, it's me," I said awkwardly, trying to break the tension.
He sighed and gestured to the chair across from him. "Come sit. Tell me what brought you here."
I obeyed, plopping down like a schoolkid called to the principal's office.
He glanced at the report in his hands. "It says here you lost your memory in a recent car accident" Then, he turned his gaze to me, staring sharply "So when you said earlier that you didn't recognize me… you weren't lying?"
Thump thump. My heart fluttered. Were his eyes really… pink? It was so mesmerizing.
"I swear, I wasn't lying. I really don't remember you," I said quickly, emphasizing the word really, hoping he'd believe me. His concerned expression made me feel guilty.
He leaned back, eyes scanning my face. "Okay. So what do you remember?"
"Nothing. I forgot… everything. Even my name, at first."
He rubbed his forehead, visibly stressed. Then he went quiet, studying the report. One minute. Two minutes. He looked so focused—so attractive in that serious-doctor way—it made my heart beat faster just watching him.
Now's my chance.
"Doctor…can I ask you something?" I began slowly. "Did we know each other before? You looked…surprised when you saw me earlier."
His eyes met mine, searching. Then came the bombshell.
"We did. We've been best friends since you were five. And now you say you don't remember me?" His voice was pained. "Mia Isabella, if this is a joke or some prank to get back at me… just say it. I'll take it."
What?! Childhood best friends? How lucky was you, Mia Isabella? A handsome fiancé, four hot brothers, and now a gorgeous heartthrob childhood friend too? I'm so jealous of you!
"But I'm not lying," I whispered, raising a hand like a kid swearing an oath. "I don't even remember all my brothers."
He sighed again. "Alright. It might be dissociative amnesia—memory loss caused by trauma or stress. It's treatable, but it takes time. We can let it heal naturally, use medication, psychotherapy, or hypnosis."
Hypnosis?! Psychotherapy?! No way. I'm not risking exposing myself like that.
"I'll go with the first option. Natural recovery sounds best for me," I said, eager to avoid the rest.
"I don't agree," he said sternly. "What if your memories don't come back?"
"No arguments. I've made my decision," I said firmly.
"Mia Isabella!" he shouted, clearly frustrated. "You're the patient, yes—but I'm the doctor. You need proper treatment."
"I have the right to choose. That's the law."
"Don't be stubborn! Aren't you afraid you'll forget everything? All our memories? I won't let them disappear just like that."
"If I can't remember, then so be it. We can always make new ones," I said nonchalantly.
Even if I tried a thousand methods, I'd never remember something that wasn't mine to begin with. Just let me go back to Mia's comfy bed already, I'm sleepy!
"You…" he clenched his jaw, clearly holding back.
"You what?" I stood up and headed to the door. "Anyway, I need to go shopping for a dress. Can you please tell my brothers and Dr. Leon I'm fine and don't need treatment?"
"I'm not going to lie for you," he said, narrowing his eyes. "You're as stubborn as ever. I'll consult with the other doctors. Don't think about running. I have my ways to make you cooperate."
Now I was nervous. Great. First the wolves— aka brothers. Now a fox? Pink-eyes fox?
"Go ahead and plan whatever you like. But remember—you can't force treatment. That's against your oath."
"You're not just a patient to me, Mia," he said quietly but firmly. "You're the most important person in my life. And I'll do whatever it takes to help you remember. All of it."
I went to the door, doing my best to stay calm despite his sudden words that nearly gave me a heart attack. "Whatever. I'm leaving. Don't bother seeing me out. You've got fans out there, remember? I don't want gossip."
"Goodbye, Alexius."
Just as I reached for the doorknob, his voice stopped me, sounding very cold.
"Call me Alex."
I glanced back. "Fine. Bye, Alex." I flashed him a sweet smile, waved, and hurried out.
Bang! I slammed the door shut and ran.