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The sterile, bleached smell of the Los Angeles hospital always made Ameya feel on edge, but today her arms were full of bags—essentials and a few comforts she'd picked up to make Rico's stay more bearable.
As she stepped into the bustling reception area, a flash of white and blue blurred toward her. Before she could set the bags down, Rico collided with her in a fierce, desperate hug. Clad in his oversized hospital gown, he clung to her like a lost child.
"Where did you go?" he mumbled into her shoulder, his voice thick with faux-infancy. "I looked everywhere. I thought... I thought you were gone."
Ameya's heart softened. She dropped the bags to the floor and gently tapped his back, shushing him. "I'm right here, Rico. I just went to get your things."
A nurse hurried over, looking frayed and out of breath. "Oh, thank goodness you're back," she said, directed at Ameya. "We couldn't manage him at all. He won't listen to a word we say when you're out of sight. Please, for our sake, try not to leave him alone."
"I am so sorry," Ameya apologized, her face flushing with guilt. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."
As the nurse sighed and walked away, Rico's demeanor shifted instantly. A bright, mischievous grin broke across his face. "What did you bring for me?" He didn't wait for an answer, snatching the carry bags from the floor with a strength that didn't quite match his "fragile" state.
"Hey! Come on, let's get back to the room first," Ameya laughed, following him.
The Room Behind Closed Doors
Once they were safely inside his private suite, Ameya's expression turned stern. She folded her arms, her tone rising slightly. "Rico, I told you specifically not to leave the room. Why did you go to the lobby?"
Rico sat on the edge of the bed, blinking his large, soulful eyes at her. "I thought you left me here alone. I was scared."
Ameya exhaled a long, tired breath. She looked at him, feeling a pang of pity. He doesn't understand, she thought. The memory loss has turned him into someone so vulnerable.
Rico reached out, grabbing Ameya's hand and pulling her closer. "Don't go anywhere," he whispered, tilting his head with a look so sweet it was heart-wrenching. Ameya felt her resolve melt away. She couldn't help but smile, nodding her head as she squeezed his hand back.
A Dangerous Game
A few hours later, the afternoon sun began to dip. Ameya stepped out of the bathroom after freshening up, but the room was eerily quiet. She looked at the bed. It was empty.
"Rico?"
She checked the closet, the small seating area. Nothing. Panic surged through her chest, her breath coming in short, ragged pants. Just as she lunged for the door to alert the staff, a hand clamped firmly over her mouth.
Ameya gasped, her back hitting the wall with a dull thud. Rico was pinning her there, his face inches from hers. Gone was the "innocent baby" from the lobby; in his place was a man with a dark, playful smirk.
She wrenched his hand away, her heart hammering. "What are you doing? You scared me to death!"
"Are you worried that I'm missing?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave, eyes dancing with a strange intensity.
"Don't play, Rico! This isn't funny."
Rico's expression soured instantly, his lip curling into a pout. "This is how I felt. Upset. When you were gone."
Ameya narrowed her eyes. "I told you I was going to the store!"
Rico rolled his eyes, his gaze locking onto hers with a sudden, suffocating heat. "Still... I was afraid you'd abandoned me."
Suddenly, the handle of the door turned. The Doctor and a nurse walked in for the routine evening check. Because Rico had Ameya pinned behind the swing of the door, the medical staff saw nothing but an empty room.
"Where did they go?" the Doctor muttered, sounding confused.
Ameya tried to squirm, whispering urgently, "Rico, let go! The doctor is right there."
Rico didn't budge. He smiled, a thrill-seeker's glint in his eyes, and pressed his palm over her mouth to keep her silent.
"Maybe they went for a walk?" the nurse suggested.
"Inform me the second they return," the Doctor ordered.
The door clicked shut. The second the latch engaged, Rico's hand moved from her mouth to her cheek. Without a word, he reached out with his free hand and clicked the lock.
He leaned in, his kiss passionate and demanding, catching Ameya off guard. She tried to pull back, breathless. "Rico, what are you doing? They could come back!"
"I don't want any more disturbances," he whispered against her lips, giving her a slow, wicked wink.
He pulled her back into the kiss, his hand roaming to her hip in slow, circular motions. The "innocent" Rico was nowhere to be found. Ameya felt her resistance crumbling under the heat of his touch. She reached up, her hands finding his shoulders, pulling him closer as he moved his kisses to her cheek and then down the sensitive line of her neck. He lingered there, his grip tightening on her hip, a silent claim of ownership.
The Secret Ally
By 7:00 PM, the room was quiet again. Rico was propped up on his pillows, casually scrolling through his phone. When the Doctor re-entered, Rico didn't even look up.
The Doctor looked around, his face tight with irritation. "Rico, I can't do this anymore."
"What happened?" Rico asked, his eyes never leaving the screen.
The Doctor sat on the edge of the bed, lowering his voice. "I've been acting for you, lying to everyone because you're my friend. But you're pushing it too far. Ameya is getting suspicious—she came to my office yesterday questioning things."
Rico finally froze. He looked at the Doctor, his eyes sharpening. "What? Did she find out I'm faking the memory loss?"
The Doctor let out a mocking chuckle. "The nurse told me what happened between you two earlier. Rico, you have to control yourself. This 'crazy love' of yours is going to doom the whole plan. If she realizes you're playing her, it's over."
Rico nodded slowly, a flicker of worry crossing his face. "How did you convince her?"
"Somehow. But be careful. I have a meeting to attend... I've got to go."
"Thanks, my friend," Rico said with a dark smile.
As the Doctor walked out, Rico leaned back against the headboard, his eyes fixed on the door. The game was getting dangerous, but as he thought of Ameya, he knew he wasn't ready to stop playing just yet.
Next Day
The afternoon sun filtered through the hospital blinds as Ameya sat by the edge of the bed, carefully feeding Rico. He watched her with wide, exaggeratedly innocent eyes, following every move of the spoon. As she went for the last bite, Rico suddenly leaned back, a playful glint in his eyes.
Ameya sighed, pressing the spoon gently against his lips. "Rico, don't be difficult. Just one more."
He finally took the bite, his eyes never leaving hers. Ameya couldn't help but think how much more mischievous—how much more naughty—he had become since the accident. She stood up to take the bowl to the sink, but Rico was already distracted, reaching for his phone to start a mobile game.
A Dangerous Proximity ( at Night)
A couple of hours passed. The hospital room grew quiet, save for the frantic tapping of Rico's fingers on the screen. Ameya rubbed her tired eyes and looked at the clock.
"Rico, how long are you going to play that?" she asked, walking toward him. "Enough. You need to rest."
"One more level, please?" he pleaded, though his smirk suggested he wasn't really asking for permission.
Ameya stepped closer, reaching out to snatch the phone away. "No, give it here."
In a swift move, Rico leaned back, holding the phone out of her reach. Ameya lunged for it, lost her balance, and fell directly onto his chest. The air left her lungs as she found herself pinned against him. Rico didn't let go; instead, his hand slid down to grab her waist firmly.
"Fine, I won't play it,but...." he murmured, his voice dropping to a low vibrate.
Ameya's heart hammered against her ribs. Shocked by the sudden heat in his touch, she pushed herself up and stood straight, smoothing her clothes. "You... you are shameless," she muttered, her face flushed crimson.
Rico just sat there, a playful smile on his lips as his gaze drifted to her mouth.
"Don't," Ameya warned, but she felt her resolve weakening.
Rico started to play game on his phone.
Ameya said," you are playing too long".
"It's a really interesting game, Ameya," he said, shifting on the bed. "Do you want to play too?"
"No," she hesitated, but before she could move away, Rico reached out and pulled her down. He sat behind her, his chest pressed to her back, and began to show her the controls.
As they played together, Ameya found herself getting sucked into the challenge. She took the phone, fully involved in the screen. While she played, Rico's movements became more deliberate. He wrapped one arm around her stomach, pulling her back against him, while his other hand gently moved her hair away from her shoulder. He rested his head there, watching the game, but his focus was clearly elsewhere.
The scent of her perfume—strong, floral, and intoxicating—filled his senses. As Ameya won the level and cheered with a bright smile, Rico leaned in.
"Can I play one more?" she asked excitedly.
Rico nodded, his nose tracing a slow line from her shoulder to the curve of her neck. Ameya felt a flutter of butterflies in her stomach. She swallowed hard, her fingers slowing on the screen. When Rico placed a gentle, lingering kiss on her neck, she couldn't concentrate anymore.
She turned her head. "Rico, what—"
His face was inches from hers, his eyes dark and dazed, as if he were drunk on her presence. He leaned in, kissing her softly, then more deeply.
"What perfume are you using?" he whispered against her lips, his voice husky.
"I... I don't..."
"but,It's addictive," he smirked, his grip on her stomach tightening. He grabbed her hand, kissing her palm, before moving back to her neck with passionate, hungry kisses.
Ameya couldn't resist. She turned toward him, returning the kiss as the world outside the hospital room vanished. In one swift motion, Rico flipped her onto the bed, hovering over her. His hands pinned hers to the mattress, his kisses moving from her forehead to her nose, then back to her lips.
He was losing control. His grip on her hip tightened, and he let out a sharp, needy breath, his teeth grazing her neck.
"Rico... no," Ameya whispered, finally finding her voice through the haze of desire. "Rico, stop."
He froze, his forehead resting against hers. He took a jagged breath and rolled off, lying beside her. "Sorry," he rasped, staring at the ceiling. "I can't control myself around you."
Ameya pulled her top sleeve straight, her heart still racing. "I know... but it's not the right time."
Rico nodded, then pulled her into a tight hug. "I won't do anything else tonight," he whispered into her ear, though the smirk remained hidden from her view. Ameya closed her eyes and hugged him back, feeling safe—and completely unaware of the shadow behind his eyes.
The next morning
Ameya returned to the room with a tray of tea. As she reached the door, she realized it was slightly ajar. She was about to push it open when she heard Rico's voice—not the soft, innocent voice he used with her, but the sharp, confident tone of the man she used to know.
He was on a video call.
"Is everything okay? How is it going?" a voice asked—it was Michael.
Rico chuckled, a sound that sent a chill down Ameya's spine. "What do you think? Look at my face."
"I see it," Michael laughed. "So, the plan worked?"
"Finally," Rico said, his voice filled with a cold triumph. "She is with me... after these five long years. It took a lot, but she's exactly where I want her."
"But Rico," Michael warned, "you have to convince her completely before she catches onto the act. If she finds out you're faking the memory loss, she'll run."
Rico nodded, a dark smirk playing on his lips. "Don't worry. I have her right in the palm of my hand."
Behind the door, Ameya felt the world tilt. Her hand trembled, the tea tray rattling slightly. What? she whispered to herself, her heart turning to ice. He didn't lose his memory at all?
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To be Continued.....
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