Chapter 2
Chloe
I sat at my desk in the dorm room, forcing myself to calm down.
My mind felt unusually clear after coming back, as if it had been washed clean. I began to recall every detail of the past four years, trying to pinpoint exactly where I had gone wrong.
"Why did I fall in love with James?" I wrote this question on paper.
The answer surfaced quickly: [my lifesaver.]
That car accident four years ago—no, to be precise, three years ago now. I lost all my memories. When I woke up, the first thing I saw was James's handsome face, and he told me he had saved me.
From that moment on, I made him my hero.
But thinking about it now, James seemed too composed back then, too... rehearsed?
I stood up abruptly. Something wasn't right.
A real hero who saves someone in a crisis should be nervous, frantic—how could he have been so calm? And James's clothes had been clean and neat, not at all like someone who had just rushed from an accident scene.
I needed to verify this.
The records department at Stanford Medical Center was quiet, sunlight filtering through the venetian blinds onto the floor.
"Is Nurse Linda here?" I asked at the front desk.
"She's at the third-floor nurses' station."
I quickly walked to the elevator. Linda was the nurse who had cared for me after the accident. If anyone knew the truth, it would be her.
"Chloe? My goodness, you've grown so beautiful!" Linda exclaimed when she saw me.
"Linda, I need to ask you something," I said directly. "Do you remember who brought me to the hospital three years ago?"
Linda furrowed her brow. "Of course I do. What's this about, honey?"
"Was it a blond guy? Really handsome?"
"Blond?" Linda shook her head. "No, no, the person who brought you in wasn't a blond guy."
My heart raced. "Then who was it?"
"It was this rebellious-looking kid in a leather jacket, covered in tattoos. Looked tough, but his hands were shaking when he carried you in." Linda recalled. "He waited outside the ER the whole time, only leaving after he knew you were going to be okay."
I could barely breathe. "What was his name?"
"Louis Wild. I remember clearly because his hand was trembling so badly when he signed the forms."
Louis Wild.
Not James.
It was never James.
I felt the world spinning around me.
Four years. For four whole years, I had loved the wrong person.
The campus coffee shop buzzed with activity; the afternoon rush was always the busiest.
I found James in the corner, chatting with some friends, looking like he was in a good mood.
"James, I need to talk to you alone."
He hesitated when he saw me, then waved his friends away. "You guys go ahead."
"What's so serious?" James asked with a smile. "Yesterday you suddenly said you wanted a fresh start, and today..."
"James," I looked directly into his eyes, my voice surprisingly steady, "why did you lie about saving me?"
James's smile froze. "What?"
"The car accident three years ago. You weren't the one who saved me." I enunciated each word.
James's face turned pale. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
"I just came from the hospital," I continued. "Nurse Linda told me the truth. The person who brought me to the hospital was a rebellious guy in a leather jacket, not you."
"Chloe, let me explain..." James reached for me frantically, but I moved away.
"Explain what? Explain why you pretended to be my savior? Explain why you let me believe you were my hero?"
James's forehead began to sweat. "I... I just didn't want you to remember the painful memories. The accident was traumatic for you, I was afraid..."
"So you lied?" My voice rose. "Made me think you saved me, made me eternally grateful to you, made me..."
"Chloe, I did it for your own good!" James defended desperately. "I genuinely liked you, I..."
"Liked me?" I couldn't help but laugh, though it was filled with bitterness. "If you really liked me, why did you choose Emily when our lives were at stake?"
James looked confused. "What life-or-death situation? What are you talking about?"
Looking at his bewildered expression, I suddenly realized that was something that happened in the "future." But it didn't matter anymore.
"Forget it," I stood up. "Four years, James. For four whole years, my love was built on a lie."
"Chloe, don't be like this..."
"I only want to know one thing now," I turned to look at him. "The person who really saved me—where is he now?"
James's expression grew complicated. "I don't know."
"You'd better really not know," I picked up my bag. "Because I'm going to find him."
The sun was setting, and the sycamore leaves along the campus path were beginning to turn yellow.
I walked alone, Linda's words echoing in my mind: His hands were shaking when he carried you in... He waited outside the ER the whole time, only leaving after he knew you were going to be okay.
That was how a real hero should react. Nervous, worried, afraid.
And James? For four years, he had enjoyed my gratitude, my devotion, my hero worship.
I sat in my dorm room at midnight, the laptop screen casting a blue glow across my face. My roommate had already fallen asleep, but I couldn't rest. Not when I finally knew the truth.
"Louis Wild," I whispered to myself, fingers flying across the keyboard.
The search results flooded the screen. Too many Louis Wilds, but none seemed right. I needed something more specific.
"Louis Wild Bay Area tattoos motorcycle"
This time, fewer results appeared. I scrolled through them methodically, my heart racing with each click.
Then I found it.
A Facebook profile showing a young man in a leather jacket, leaning against a black Harley. The bio was brief: "Bay Area Community College, Mechanical Engineering, 21."
My hands trembled as I clicked through his photos. There he was at what looked like a motorcycle club gathering, laughing with friends who all looked equally tough and rebellious.
"Found you," I breathed.
The address listed was Bay Area Community College. According to his posts, he seemed to spend a lot of time there, especially in the afternoons.
I closed the laptop and lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow, I would go find him. I would finally meet the person who actually saved my life.
I needed to find Louis Wild and give him the long-overdue thanks he deserved.
More importantly, I wanted to see what this truly brave person looked like.
No longer James's fake hero image, but a real, flesh-and-blood savior.
Perhaps this would be the first step in my fresh start.
