Page 44 of Hate You Most

The doctor looked down at the clipboard one of the nurses had, then looked back at Viktoriya with something resembling pity.

“Ms. Volkova, no one has let anyone into your hospital room without permission. It says here that Ms. Sanchez is listed in your emergency contacts along with your father.”

Viktoriya froze, and her lungs burned. She wished she could look Dakota in the eye right now, but she wasn't completely sure she was still in the room. She could have left as the nurses and doctor rushed in, she wouldn't have known.

“What?”

“Ms. Sanchez is listed here as your emergency contact,” the doctor said.

Holy shit. They were together? The world collapsed in on itself. Viktoriya's world. She didn't remember that. She didn't remember being in a relationship with anyone, let alone her rival and her biggest competitor.

Her lungs were stinging, and it became very apparent in a matter of seconds that Viktoriya couldn't breathe properly.

“No, is not true.” She coughed, tried filling her lungs with air. “No, no, that is not true. Tell me is not true.”

The monitor behind her beeped rapidly. “Is not true,” she repeated over and over until she was screaming it. If Dakota hadn't left the room before, there was no way she'd stuck around now.

“You need to calm down, Ms. Volkova,” the doctor said. “You need to take a deep breath.”

The beeping intensified and Viktoriya wondered for a second if this was what dying felt like.

“Is not true, tell me we're not together.” She was losing her mind. No, she'd already lost it and this was the aftermath of it all. “Tell me! It is not true!”

She was screaming, she hadn't even realized. Her mind had morphed into a pure panic. She screamed about her father, about her career and status, about how Dakota hated her, about how she needed to leave the room. She screamed that this was a setup—a trap.

The nurses and doctor spoke hurriedly beside her, and something was injected into her IV to make her calmer.

“You’re okay,” the doctor said, his voice becoming more muffled by the second. “You’re fine, you just need to get some sleep, now.”

The world sank into darkness around her, and Viktoriya's body fell into the void. Her last thought pierced her mind on loop: She was in a relationship with Dakota Sanchez. With her rival.

What the hell had she done?

February, 2014. - October 16th, 2022.

— Winter Olympics. Sochi, Russia. Henry Ford Hospital, Intensive Care Unit, night.

When Viktoriya woke again, it took her a few blinks to orient herself. She was still at the hospital, and she still couldn't remember the past eight years. Her head hurt more than before, and Dakota Sanchez was still in the room.

She was hunched in the orange plastic chair beside her, with her back toward Viktoriya. Her dark hair clung to the side of the chair and she looked to be fast asleep.

She hadn't left. Apparently she wasn't so easy to get rid of.

Viktoriya found herself smiling at that. She didn't want her to wake up alone, so she was sleeping on what looked to be the world's most uncomfortable chair—even after she'd screamed about her in a delirious panic.

Eight years. She had missed so much.

CHAPTER TEN

February, 2014. - October 17th, 2022.

— Winter Olympics. Sochi, Russia. Henry Ford Hospital, Intensive Care Unit.

One excruciating day later and Viktoriya's memory hadn't decided to magically return the last eight years by the push of a button or by completion of another test. In fact, she had grown so impatient she could hardly stand being in the room whenever the doctor or nurses came by.

To Viktoriya's dismay, her rival had refused to leave her alone for so much as a bathroom break in the last twenty-four hours. She just needed a moment of peace to gather her thoughts but, when it wasn't her rival hovering around, it was a doctor or nurse forcing her through another memory test or MRI scan.

Viktoriya squeezed her eyes shut and colorful spots danced behind her eyelids. All she needed was a moment of quiet, a moment without the stiff and persistent pain in the back of her head. Even with the medication she'd been given, the pain was a constant. The memory of yesterday swallowed her whole in an instant. It had to have been an illusion conjured up by her bruised brain. Dakota Sanchez and her weren't together. It wasn't real, it didn't make any sense.