YELLOW

PART 7

"What's the patient's name?" I heard as the door opened, distant voices mingling in the air.

"Marcus, Marcus Baker," responded another voice. Footsteps drew nearer, accompanied by the faint sound of a beeping machine. Slowly, I opened my eyes and saw a woman in a white coat, her stethoscope draped around her neck and papers clutched in her hands.

"Good morning, Mr. Baker. Do you know where you are?" she asked, gently grasping my wrist to check my pulse.

"I... no..." I managed to whisper, my voice barely audible.

"You're in the hospital," she explained. "You were found in your car. Do you remember what happened last night?"

"Olivia... I was with her," I whispered again, the name escaping my lips like a fragile memory.

"Olivia? Is she your emergency contact?" the doctor inquired, her brow furrowing slightly.

"She's my fiancée," I replied, trying to convey the significance of our relationship.

The doctor looked at my medical records, her expression shifting to one of confusion. "I see a different contact listed here, and it doesn't indicate a fiancée," she noted, glancing back at the papers.

"Oh, Marcus, I was so worried!" Elora rushed into the room, her concern palpable as she hurried to my side and kissed my forehead gently. "I was so scared."

I coughed softly, a wave of pain washing over me as I tried to process everything.

"You must be Olivia," the doctor said, turning to Elora, her expression shifting to one of confusion. "Excuse me?" She glanced back at me, but I was staring blankly, struggling to make sense of it all. "Marcus mentioned his fiancée, and I assumed—"

"Oh no, Olivia is his cousin," Elora interrupted, pulling me closer to her. "I think he's just a bit confused right now. I'm Elora, though," she added in a soft voice, her tone almost hesitant. "Elora... Baker," she said, lifting her hand to display a ring—a ring I hadn't even given her. I was too disoriented to respond, my mind a haze of fragmented thoughts and emotions.

"What is this?" Olivia asked, looking down at the wooden box I had handed her.

I blew the dust off the box, a sign that it had been tucked away under my bed for ages, as I adjusted my position on the blanket spread out on the floor beside her. "These are items I'd only need if my house was set on fire. FIEK—Fire Items Emergency Kit. It's something I made when I was a kid," I explained, tracing my fingers over the carved initials on the lid. "Go on, open it," I whispered, leaning closer.

With a sense of curiosity, she slowly lifted the lid and began to sift through the contents. She discovered a few miniature cars, watching intently as she rolled the wheels between her fingers. Next came some NBA trading cards, a couple of PlayStation games, and a handful of coins. "Look carefully, underneath... all of that," I suggested, nodding toward the bottom of the box.

As she dug deeper, her fingers brushed against a letter. She picked it up and opened it slowly, revealing a collection of our photographs nestled inside. She turned to me, surprise etched on her face. "You kept these?"

I pulled my knees closer to my chest and nodded, pressing my lips together to hold back my emotions. "You're part of my FIEK kit," I said softly, my gaze drifting to her lips.

Placing the box gently to the side, she moved closer to me, her breath warm against my skin. She brushed her lips against mine, kissing me slowly, and in that moment, everything else faded away.

"How long will he have to be here?" Elora asked, her voice tinged with worry.

"We don't know yet. He's still very unconscious right now," the doctor replied, her tone serious.

"Marcus, you mentioned that you were with Olivia last night. Can you remember anything else?" the doctor prompted, looking directly at me.

Before I could respond, Elora interjected, "He wasn't with her; she hasn't been around for a while. He was with me and Ginny."

The doctor turned her attention back to me, her expression expectant.

I glanced between her and Elora, a wave of uncertainty washing over me. I knew it was best not to reveal my thoughts, so I chose my words carefully. "I'm just confused. I must've had too much to drink and mixed it with some weed," I said, trying to deflect any further questions. The weight of the truth hung heavy in the air, but I felt it was safer to keep it to myself for now.

I gazed at her through the mirror, my arms wrapped around my back. Olivia stood before me, radiant in a flowing white dress, her hair cascading down her shoulders.

"You look breathtaking," I whispered as I stepped closer, wrapping my arms around her waist. My hands began a slow journey up her arms and shoulders, planting soft kisses along her neck. Her laughter filled the room, a melodic sound that made my heart race.

"Oh really? So you remember how to do it," she teased, glancing over her shoulder at me.

I rolled my eyes playfully, my breath warm against her skin. "What do you mean? I always make sure you feel wanted," I replied, my fingers deftly unzipping her dress from behind. As the fabric slid down, she stepped out of it and kicked it aside, a playful smile on her lips.

"Do you, Marcus? Because lately, I've been feeling a bit unwanted," she said, taking my hands and placing them over her chest, encouraging me to explore.

I let out a soft moan against her lips, the warmth of her body igniting something deep within me. "I do want you," I insisted, my voice filled with sincerity.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she responded, "I want you to show me."

With that, she playfully pushed me down onto the bed and crawled on top of me, the atmosphere thick with anticipation.

"Marcus, you idiot! I was so worried about you!" Ginny exclaimed, hitting me playfully but firmly on the shoulder.

"Ouch! If you can't tell, I'm already in rough shape," I replied, trying to mask my discomfort with a grin.

She rolled her eyes at me, clearly unimpressed. "Yeah, mentally," she shot back, then turned and walked over to Elora, pulling her into a tight hug. "I was so worried about him," I heard her say, but their conversation quickly faded into the background as my mind began to drift.

I turned to look out the window, my gaze lost in the world beyond. Suddenly, an image flashed through my mind—a memory I couldn't quite grasp. I felt a warm hand take mine. "You'll be fine. I'm glad they're taking good care of you. Let me know how you're holding up," the voice echoed in my thoughts. Memories flooded back, bittersweet and distant, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was all just a façade.

As if she would actually care.

I closed my eyes, surrendering to the fatigue that enveloped me. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep, my mind desperate for a respite from reality.