Destiny Gift by Juliana Haygert

understand what I was referring to.
    He shrugged, his sea-green eyes still staring at me with suspicion. “I don’t know. By the way, how do you know my name?”
    I twirled a lock of my hair around my index finger as I considered my answer. I wanted to answer him. I wanted to be honest, but he would never believe me.
    As if my answer would pop out of the walls, I scanned the hallway.
    At the end of the corridor, a nurse left a room and entered another.
    “The nurse,” I almost shouted, hoping he wouldn’t notice my sudden lie. I avoided his inquisitive eyes. “I heard a nurse calling you earlier that day.”
    His deadpan expression hid his thoughts and didn’t let me know if he was buying it or not.
    “What did you do to me last night?” he asked, crossing his arms. God, I hated how his voice and his posture were so guarded and mistrustful. I wasn’t used to it.
    “What do you mean?”
    “When you touched me, the shock and the pain went away. How did you do that?”
    “I don’t know.” This time I wasn’t lying. I really didn’t know. He frowned, clearly still suspicious. “Seriously, I have no idea.”
    His shoulders stiffened. “What are you doing here? What do you want?”
    My eyes widened as I retreated a few steps, trying to avoid his toxic tone.
    Yes, he looked like my Victor—the same voice, the same hair, the same face, the same mouth that had offered me smiles that had rendered me breathless many, many times. I wanted to touch him, to embrace him, to tell him everything was going to be okay. Maybe if I touched him, he would remember me and he would want to touch me too.
    I came closer to him, looking deeply into those wary green eyes, my fingers itching to stroke his skin, to feel it smoldering under my caress. But I didn’t. He was like my Victor, but he wasn’t my Victor. The Victor from my visions would never speak to me like this. He would never snap at me. No, no. My Victor loved my company, loved to hear me sing, loved to embrace me and inhale my scent.
    “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice croaking under the heavy pressure inside my chest.
    Then, I walked away.
    At first, each step was heavy and slow, but as forlorn tears spilled over and shook my body, my pace increased until I was running. I ran as if the strides could erase the agony slowly consuming me.
    How could I have been so blind? How could I have believed Victor truly existed and that he loved me? Why had I tortured myself by looking for him? I knew the answers to these questions. If I could make one wish, I would ask for my dream Victor to be real. When I’d seen a guy that could be his identical twin, I thought my soul’s wish had been fulfilled.
    It had been too good to be true. Nobody could be so lucky. Still, I couldn’t believe I found the guy that looked like my Victor—but he would never be my Victor.
    ***
    I had to stretch the not-feeling-well lie for a few more days with work since I didn’t have any strength to get up from my bed. Adam was livid for having to fill in for me, while Raisa and Olivia were left worrying.
    On a Friday, after I spent three days in bed barely eating or speaking, the girls called Cheryl.
    “I heard you’ve been hiding in here since Tuesday,” she stated. My face was buried in my pillow, but I felt the bed wobble as she sat next to me. “You’re not eating, you’re not going to class or work, and you aren’t speaking to your friends.”
    Through the pillow, I smelled them. Cinnamon rolls—my favorite snack.
    “That’s not fair,” I mumbled.
    Cheryl chuckled. “I’ll use all weapons available to me.”
    Grunting, I turned to her and instantly saw the giant-sized cinnamon rolls on a plate beside her. They were still hot, with extra sugar coating. The way I liked. And the fact that I was starving added to the temptation.
    “God, you’re playing dirty,” I kidded. My first joke and my first half-smile in nearly five days.
    She passed me the plate. “I’m glad you decided