The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 338

Lexi walked over to the bed, leaned over, and fluffed the pillows behind Sloane, helping her sit up and lean back comfortably. Then, she turned around, shot Garrison a look, and tipped her head toward the door.

Garrison understood. He stood up and quietly let himself out, pulling the door shut behind him.

The two women were left alone in the room.

Lexi had gotten a phone call from Garrison late last night. He had told her the whole truth—and if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she never would have believed it.

But the person sitting in front of her was living proof.

Garrison hadn't lied to her. Sloane had basically been 'reborn.' Her body had been preserved in a lab, frozen for five years, and now she had finally woken up.

But her memory was stuck in their junior year of college—ten years ago.

Garrison had begged her to help him spin this web of lies, all so Sloane could have some peace of mind while receiving treatment for her brain cancer. And Lexi had agreed.

Lexi sat down on the edge of the bed, slipped off her trench coat, and draped it over the back of the chair, revealing a plain knit sweater underneath.

She sat so close that Sloane could see the fine, delicate lines creeping up around the corners of her eyes, and the silver wedding band resting on her left ring finger.

Sloane stared at her, lips parted in disbelief. Her gaze dragged from Lexi's long, wavy hair down to the crinkles by her eyes, over to the wedding band, and finally to the slight softness around her waist, hidden loosely beneath the sweater.

It was her.

It was definitely Lexi Lowery—the woman who had slept in the bunk above her since freshman year. The woman who went to class with her every day, ate lunch with her in the cafeteria, and dragged her out to the track for training.

But she looked completely different from the Lexi in her memories. The old Lexi always wore her hair in a tight ponytail, practically lived in sports bras and boxing shorts, kept her wrists wrapped in athletic tape, and constantly sported fresh bruises on the corner of her mouth from the previous day's sparring sessions.

Her voice used to be so loud you could hear her from three hallways down, and when she laughed, the cafeteria windows practically vibrated.

"I missed you so much," she whispered.

She said the words evenly, but Sloane could feel Lexi's fingers trembling slightly against her spine.

"Lexi," Sloane's voice was muffled against her shoulder. "What is going on? That doctor said it's 2026—he said I've been in a coma for ten years. So... do you think I've been in a coma for ten years too?"

Lexi pulled back and sat up straight.

She reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone, swiped across the screen a few times, and then held it up in front of Sloane.

"Look," she said.

In the photo, Lexi was lying in a hospital delivery bed. Her hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat, and her face looked pale and exhausted, but her eyes were smiling at the camera. In her arms, she was holding a wrinkled, red-faced newborn. "This is my son. We call him Toby. He's two years old now."