Semua Bab The Night Before I Knew Him: Bab 181 - Bab 190

JuneAs we got to the restaurant, I swing the car door open before either of them can, sidestepping their silent competition. It’s kind of cute in a ridiculous way, watching two grown men hover over who gets to do the simplest thing. My mood swings, though, like a pendulum, because of the text I just got from Lucien. Tomorrow is the last day. The last day I’ll see Hermes if he doesn’t remember me fully.I exhale, pressing a hand to my forehead. The stakes are high, and this “fake” dinner with Ted is now my weapon. I need Hermes to remember everything… especially that he’s going to be a father.At first, Ted’s proposal had thrown me for a loop, but now I see the method in it. And still, I silently pray Hermes doesn’t open his mouth about the… earlier incident. That could ruin the delicate trust I’m building with Ted.I let out a shaky sigh, closing my eyes briefly. When I open them, I see both Ted and Hermes standing right in front of the restaurant door, waiting like two overprotectiv

~Hermes~Darkness.Not the peaceful kind. The heavy, endless kind that presses against my chest and makes breathing feel optional.“Hermes, honey.”Natalya’s voice.I turn sharply, my pulse spiking. “Natalya?” My voice echoes, swallowed whole by the void.That’s impossible.Natalya is dead.The thought lands with a sickening clarity. I know this. I remember this. So why is her voice threading through the dark like a hook in my ribs?“Hermes, honey. Come with me.”The words drift ahead of me, coaxing, familiar, wrong.I take a step forward anyway.If this is death, then it’s cruelly accurate—voices from the past, calling me where I don’t belong.Then—“Marcus, son.”My breath catches.I turn.That voice… no. That voice hasn’t existed for decades.“Mother,” I whisper. My throat tightens painfully. “Mom…”If the dead are calling me by name, then this must be it. I must be gone.Did June not sign the consent form? Did I not survive the surgery? Did I leave her alone with our baby?The tho

~Hermes~I step out, running a hand through my damp hair—then stop dead.That isn’t Agnes.For a split second, I think I’m still half-dreaming. I’d sworn it was her voice calling me. Maybe my mind is finally slipping, stitching familiar sounds into strangers.The woman in front of me is young. Blonde. About June’s age.“Oh my God—I’m so sorry,” she blurts, slapping a hand over her eyes like she’s just walked in on something forbidden.Right.My bare chest.I exhale sharply, annoyed more than embarrassed. I grab the shirt off the chair and pull it on without rushing.“Where is Agnes?” I ask.She doesn’t move her hand. “I—I’m Jane,” she says weakly. “I was told to start today and I— I thought you weren't inside. I didn’t know you were—”“You can look,” I cut in flatly, tugging the last button closed. “I’m dressed.”Slowly, her fingers part. One eye peeks through. Then the other.Her gaze flicks up to my face, then away again like she’s afraid I’ll snap.“I asked you something,” I say. “

~Hermes~I step inside, Jane hovering at my side, repeating for what felt like the hundredth time that she hadn’t informed my father about our sudden trip to Greece. I don’t answer. My eyes sweep over the villa—the one I promised June we’d see together back then. I thought maybe I’d find peace here. But I don’t even know why I came. Was it to look for her? Scoff. False confidence. If I truly wanted to find June, I would have gone to Las Vegas. That’s where she would be.And yet… something in my chest keeps pulling me here, to this place.“Don’t tell my father yet,” I murmur as I press the doorbell.“Alright, Mr. Hermes,” Jane says, and before I can react, she steps closer. “Your hair—there’s something on it.”She reaches up without hesitation, brushing it off. I murmur a quiet thank you, forcing myself not to see June in her. It’s a dangerous habit. A way my mind has been coping. I need therapy. I know that. But right now, it’s impossible.Then my eyes move forward.Three figures stan

~Hermes~I snapped upright, my heart slamming against my ribs as I turned toward the doors.“Who’s her legal guardian?” he asks sharply.“I am—”“I am—”Kayla’s voice crashes into mine.We both stop.For a second the hallway goes dead quiet. Kayla turns to look at me, her eyes still swollen from crying. “He’s… he’s the baby’s father,” she tells the doctor stiffly. “But I’m her friend. Her roommate. I’m the one who’s been with her.”The doctor’s brows knit together, processing that fast. Then he exhales.“Fine. I need you both to listen carefully.”His face tightens as he flips through the chart.“She’s still losing blood,” he says. “We need to start a transfusion immediately.”“Then do it,” Kayla snaps.The doctor exhales, shaking his head. “The problem is that —her blood type is Rh‑null. Extremely rare. We don’t have any available in the bank right now.”My stomach drops. Rh‑null?Kayla’s eyes widen as she looks at me.The words don’t register at first.“What?” I say.“We’re checking