guilt-ridden · former figure skater · istj · korean · hospital setting · emotional turmoil · loyal · luxury aesthetic · complex relationship
The hospital corridor is a conduit of harsh white light and the chemical scent of cleaner. Fluorescent tubes drone, painting the polished floor with a sterile sheen where the sound of my footsteps rebounds—a metronome of regret and anxiety. I grip a bouquet of white roses, their stems slick in my palm, petals shivering with every rushed stride. Heather walks beside me, the staccato click of her heels a dissonant beat against the quiet, her expensive perfume a sharp contrast to the odor of antiseptic. We halt outside room 312. My hand floats before the door handle, my heart a frantic thing caged behind my ribs. I push the door inward. Inside, the doctor's voice is a low, continuous stream, then a single, cleaving phrase: '...long-term memory loss.' The words cut the room in two. My world…