**CHAPTER THREE** **SUNNY** The shrill sound of my alarm pierces through the fog of my sleep, jolting me upright. My heart races violently in my chest, reverberating against my sternum like a trapped bird. I fumble to silence the infernal noise, taking in a deep, steadying breath as I try to ground myself in this unfamiliar space. A wave of disorientation washes over me as I take in the cramped quarters of the red brick apartment—my new home. It feels foreign, a stark contrast to the memories of my last place with Ryan. Back then, we were two carefree kids, intoxicated by love and the thrill of adventure, eager to embrace our newfound freedom as a couple. Now, this loneliness feels like a shadow that clings to me. The landlord accepted cash and turned a blind eye, likely sensing the desperation in my hopeful eyes and noticing the stark pink scar that marred my neck—a physical reminder of my past. With a sigh, I roll out of bed, reminding myself that today I will buy a coffee pot. It’s the only thing that seems to kickstart my day, even if I resent my dependency on caffeine. I splash my face with cold water, brush my teeth, and crane my neck to examine my reflection. The shadows under my eyes tell the tale of sleepless nights, while the scar—still raw and pink—stands as a permanent testament to my past mistakes. The cold fluorescent light of the bathroom floods my features, highlighting every imperfection. Glancing at the mess of blonde curls that tumble around my face, I wrangle them into a half-hearted bun. With a quick sweep of mascara, I aim for some semblance of normalcy, as if transforming my lashes might somehow translate to a better grip on my life. A habit I can’t shake pulls me towards my stethoscope, but I pause, a chill rippling through me as a recent memory surfaces—one of suffocation, panic, and overwhelming fear. I stow the instrument back into my pocket, steadying my trembling hands as I smooth my scrubs. Despite my attempts to breathe through the anxiety, my heart continues to thrum wildly, a relentless reminder of the fool I had been, blinded by love. With a softness, I touch the scar at my neck. All because I loved a boy. --- **TYLER** My morning unfolds with a sweaty bout of sparring against Cole, a welcome distraction after a grueling weightlifting session. Running a hand through my damp hair, I shake off the remnants of a stiff jab to my jaw. Cole’s strength is a force to reckon with, keeping our skills sharp amidst the sweat and adrenaline. “Giving up so soon?” Cole taunts, his hazel eyes gleaming with mischief. Focusing, I swing a heavy punch, aiming for the shadow of stubble gracing his jaw. He ducks, lunging to hit me in the gut, but I counter, catching him in a chokehold. He fights, but I grip tightly, reveling in my victory for just a moment longer. “Okay, okay!” he gasps, laughter spilling from his lips, muffled against my arm. “Giving up so soon?” I tease as I loosen my grip, chuckling as he catches his breath. He glances at his watch with realization dawning. “We should head to the office. We’ve spent too much time just playing around. We can shower there.” “Agreed,” I say, tossing my gear into my bag as I consider an impromptu coffee stop. “But first, we need to swing by Betty’s for coffee.” “Why Betty’s?” he asks, brow raised. “I lost a bet with Sam. I’d rather not deal with what happens if I don’t fulfill my end of the deal.” I shoot him a grin as I throw my bag on my shoulder. “Do you really think Sam will care about a coffee?” “Have you met Sam?” I laugh, already anticipating the caffeine fix. “I could use the boost. I have a feeling today is going to be a long one.” --- **SUNNY** The absence of coffee begins to throb in my temple, a dull reminder that I need that caffeine fix before diving into orientation. Checking the time, I decide I can squeeze in a quick stop at a coffee shop. Spotting a quaint little place bustling with people, I weave my way towards it, eager for the promise of warmth and aroma within. “Welcome to Betty’s Beans! What can I get for you?” A bright-eyed barista greets me, and for a fleeting moment, I see a reflection of the girl I used to be—a girl blissfully unaware of her own fragility. “A large black coffee, please.” I state, recognizing the need for simplicity today. My savings account is dwindling, and every penny counts. A girl on the run doesn’t have the luxury of extras. While waiting, I scan my phone for directions to the security office, feeling a pinch of anxiety at the thought of navigating the vast expanse of this hospital. It’s a labyrinth, so unlike my previous job, and just thinking about it sets my nerves on edge. When my name is called, I shove my phone into my pocket and grab the steaming cup, savoring the rich aroma as I take a victorious sip. Just as I step towards the door, my phone rings, forcing me to juggle my drink and belongings. But then, disaster strikes. My world tilts as I collide with a hard, solid mass. A gasp escapes my lips, my coffee splattering over my scrubs. Strong hands grip my shoulders to steady me as I wobble. “Shit,” I murmur, looking up to confront the man responsible for this chaos. He towers over me, muscles honed from physical effort, a striking presence wrapped in an unassuming hoodie. My irritation floods back, but so does a spark of something else, igniting a flicker of unwelcome curiosity. He meets my gaze with vibrant emerald eyes, and that split second feels charged, as if a question hangs in the air—one I have no answer for. His expression shifts, revealing something wild and tantalizing, as if he sees beyond the surface, awakening the embers of resistance buried deep within me. His smirk is artful, a careful dance of confidence and intrigue, and my breath catches. I remain silent, challenging him with the steadiness of my stare. He doesn’t move to step aside or offer an apology, instead, his voice flows like silk, “What filthy words for such a pretty mouth.” --- **TYLER** The moment our eyes lock, something stirs within me. It’s a feeling I can’t shake—like the world around us fades away, leaving just the two of us in this charged moment. Her eyes, round and fierce, flicker with a fire I’m desperate to stoke. While surprise momentarily grips her, the anger returns—and it’s beautiful. The way her freckled nose crinkles in disdain only deepens my smile. “Are you okay?” I finally manage to ask, my voice filled with genuine concern, even as the pulse of adrenaline hums through my veins. “I’m fine.” The bite in her reply cuts through the air, revealing cracks in her calm façade. Her gaze falls to her watch, a shift in demeanor that signals her intent to escape. She pushes past me, heat radiating from her shoulder where she brushes against me. I can’t let her slip away—I need to know her, to understand this stirring in my chest. “Let me buy you a new coffee, at least,” I call, still eyeing the stains darkening the fabric of her scrubs. “And maybe even cover the ruined ones.” “No, thank you,” she replies curtly, not even looking back as she maneuvers past me, her determination palpable. My heart races, desperate to hold on to this moment. “Or at least new scrubs…” I step in front of her, blocking her path. “I’ve dealt with worse. I really have to go,” she insists, her tone firm as she sidesteps me, but not without jostling me slightly. It’s infuriating yet exhilarating. “Then let me at least make it right. Something tells me I was at the right place at the right time.” “Sure, you can tell yourself that, but coffee stains on my brand-new scrubs clearly say otherwise,” she throws back, and I take a step back, defeated yet more intrigued. “Well, aren’t you just a ray of sunshine,” I say, my grin lingering even though she can’t hear me. As I watch her walk away, a tightness coils in my chest. Something inside me urges me to chase after her, but I remain rooted to the spot, heart pounding with an unfamiliar intensity. The last remnant of her presence—a sweet blend of coconut and vanilla—lingers in the air, intoxicating and haunting. I’ve never been one to chase after fleeting moments, yet here I am, captivated by a girl who’s ignited something deep within me, something that had long since been buried under layers of grief and indifference. She’s not just a passing encounter; she feels important, like a missing piece of a puzzle I didn’t even know I was assembling. Obsessed, I stagger towards the idea that her name might hold the key to a question I’ve been asking all my life. I will find her again.