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After the long journey and the refreshing shower, Priya emerged from the bathroom, her skin tingling with the residual warmth of the water. With a sigh of contentment, she wrapped herself in a plush robe, the soft fabric a comforting embrace against her skin.

As she stepped into the room, her gaze was drawn to the mirror, its reflective surface a silent witness to the thoughts that swirled in her mind. Her eyes trailed over the familiar contours of her face, lingering for a moment on the faint mark near her collarbone.

The sight of the wound mark brought a pang of anxiety to Priya's heart, a reminder of the unanswered questions that haunted her thoughts. Try as she might, she couldn't recall the incident that had left its mark upon her skin, the memories shrouded in a fog of uncertainty.

With a heavy sigh, Priya tore her gaze away from the mirror, unwilling to dwell on the mysteries of the past any longer. She knew that dwelling on what she couldn't remember would only lead to further frustration and anxiety.

Instead, she focused on the present moment, relishing in the simple pleasures of the here and now. The soft glow of lamplight bathed the room in a warm embrace, casting a sense of tranquility over the space.

Taking a deep breath, Priya sank into the plush armchair by the window, the gentle hum of the city outside lulling her into a state of peaceful contemplation. Despite the lingering unease that lingered in the depths of her mind, she found solace in the quiet moments of solitude, knowing that she was safe and sound in the sanctuary of her hotel room.

In the quiet solitude of his room, Ram sank into the plush cushions of the armchair, the strains of soothing music filling the air around him like a comforting embrace. With each note that washed over him, he felt the tension of the day slowly melt away, replaced by a sense of tranquility that settled deep within his soul.

But just as he began to surrender to the gentle rhythm of the music, a sudden realization jolted him from his reverie. With a furrowed brow, he reached for his phone, the weight of forgotten obligations weighing heavily on his mind.

Dialing the number with a sense of urgency, Ram waited anxiously as the phone rang on the other end. At first, there was no answer, and a wave of apprehension washed over him. But undeterred, he dialed again, determined to make amends for his oversight.

Finally, a voice crackled through the line, sleepy yet unmistakably familiar. "Hello?" came the groggy voice of Mr. Park, his words slurred with exhaustion.

Ram wasted no time in apologizing for his forgetfulness, his voice tinged with remorse. "I'm sorry, Doc. I forgot about the appointment," he admitted, his tone heavy with guilt.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, followed by a soft sigh of resignation. "Your mom called me, but I assured her that you came," Mr. Park confessed, his words laced with understanding.

Ram's heart swelled with gratitude at the doctor's forgiveness. "Thank you, Doc. I'll come tomorrow, I promise," he vowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

With a final word of assurance, Mr. Park bid Ram goodnight, his voice fading into the ether as he drifted off to sleep. And as Ram set his phone aside, a sense of relief washed over him, grateful for the understanding and forgiveness that had been extended to him in his time of need.

With a contented sigh, he leaned back in his chair, allowing the music to wash over him once more, knowing that tomorrow would bring with it the opportunity for redemption and renewal. And as he closed his eyes, he surrendered himself to the gentle embrace of sleep, his heart lightened by the promise of a new day dawning on the horizon.

As the first rays of dawn kissed the skyline of London, Priya emerged from her hotel, her heart brimming with anticipation for the adventures that awaited her in the vibrant city. With each step she took, the city streets unfolded before her like a tapestry of possibilities, each corner holding the promise of new discoveries and unforgettable experiences.

Her first stop was the iconic Big Ben, its towering silhouette standing sentinel over the city, its chimes echoing through the crisp morning air. As she stood in awe of the majestic clock tower, Priya felt a sense of wonder wash over her, marveling at the grandeur of the historic landmark that had captured the imaginations of countless travelers over the years.

From there, she made her way to the historic Tower of London, its ancient stone walls steeped in centuries of history and intrigue. As she wandered through the labyrinthine corridors of the fortress, Priya found herself transported back in time, imagining the countless tales of kings and queens, knights and nobles, that had unfolded within its hallowed halls.

As Ram entered Mr. Park's office, he was met with a stern yet compassionate gaze from the doctor. There was a weight to Mr. Park's words, a reminder of the importance of their sessions and the gravity of Ram's situation.

"Ryan, this is the fourth time in two months you've missed your session," Mr. Park began, his voice tinged with concern. "I hope you remember why you came to London in the first place."

Ram shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a sense of guilt gnawing at his conscience. He knew he had been neglecting his therapy sessions, but the thought of delving into the memories he had worked so hard to bury filled him with a sense of dread.

But Mr. Park wasn't finished yet. "I still remember how skeptical Mrs. Connor was about leaving you here in London alone," he continued, his tone gentle yet firm. "You need to think about her, Ryan. At least for her sake."

Ram's jaw tightened at the mention of his mother, his emotions swirling in turmoil. "I am thinking about her, Doc," he replied, his voice tinged with frustration. "But I can't risk remembering. If I do, I might forget her, and I can't let that happen. I'm fine being Ryan Connor. I don't want to remember who I was before."

There was a heavy silence that hung in the air, the weight of Ram's words echoing in the confines of the room. Mr. Park regarded him with a mixture of understanding and concern, knowing that the road to recovery would be a long and arduous one.

But deep down, he also knew that Ram's refusal to confront his past would only prolong his suffering.

As Mr. Park's words hung in the air, a somber silence settled over the room, the weight of his question pressing down upon Ram like a heavy burden. The mention of his family stirred a tumult of emotions within him, memories of a life left behind and loved ones left waiting in the wings.

"What about your real family, Ryan?" Mr. Park pressed gently, his voice a soft echo in the quiet of the room. "Aren't you going to think about them?"

Ram's lips twisted into a wry smile, a bitter edge creeping into his tone. "It's been five years now," he replied, his voice heavy with resignation. "After I ended up in a coma for a year. Do you really think they'd still be hoping for me?"

There was a palpable ache in Ram's words, a sense of loss that reverberated through the room like a silent lament.

As Ram's words filled the room with a quiet intensity, Mr. Park listened with a compassionate understanding, his gaze softening with empathy. The depth of Ram's love for his mother was palpable, a thread that wove through the fabric of his being, anchoring him to the world he had left behind.

"I came here because Mom wanted me to," Ram continued, his voice tinged with a quiet resolve. "She's the only one I have. I still remember how much she took care of me when I was in the hospital after the accident. I just wanted to make her happy, so nothing else matters."

Mr. Park nodded in silent acknowledgement, his eyes reflecting the depth of Ram's emotions. "I appreciate your love for your mom," he said softly, his words carrying a weight of understanding. "It's clear that she means the world to you, and that you would do anything to make her happy."

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