"Buried Memories in a Jar of Honey" Chapter 5
Summer’s face stiffened at her bluntness, and she stopped pretending. "Clara Tang, Ethan and I are already married. I know you’re teammates now, but I hope you maintain a proper distance."
Clara felt a sharp stab in her heart and was momentarily speechless.
She clenched her fists at her sides, and after a long moment, she spoke in a hoarse voice. "I understand. Once this mission is over, I will leave D.C."
Summer seemed surprised by her decision and let out an obvious sigh of relief. "I hope you keep your word."
Clara watched Summer’s retreating back and gave a bitter, mocking laugh.
What else could she do besides give up? Her pride wouldn't allow her to fight for a married man.
The next morning, having forced herself to sleep for four or five hours, Clara ran into Ethan just as she stepped out of her tent.
She pursed her lips and moved to step aside to avoid him, but Ethan grabbed her.
"About yesterday..." Ethan looked uneasy, and he instinctively gripped her hand harder.
Clara used a clever move to break free and interrupted him. "I know it was a misunderstanding. As long as you’ve cleared it up with Summer, it’s fine."
Ethan fell silent, but he didn't seem to want to leave.
After a long silence, it was Clara who spoke first, her voice faint. "Ethan, if one day you remember me, what will you do?"
Chapter 10
Ethan clearly hadn't expected Clara to ask that question.
He instinctively clenched his fists at his sides, and his heart tightened.
He had no answer.
"I don't know." Between the heavy mission and Summer’s outbursts, Ethan’s face was etched with fatigue.
At this moment, a rare trace of bitterness and confusion could be seen on his usually frost-cold face.
Looking at him, Clara suddenly felt a sense of closure.
Perhaps she didn't necessarily need an answer.
Whether he gave up on her because of amnesia or because he truly fell in love with Summer, the point was that there was no longer any possibility for them to be together.
After all... Ethan was already married.
For a moment, Clara found it almost comical. Real closure had come so "easily."
The self-deprecating smile on her lips felt like a sharp blade carving into Ethan’s heart. His heart had never been as frantic as it was at this moment.
In his unease, he felt as though something vital was about to leave him forever.
Before he could speak, Clara gave a faint smile.
"After this rescue mission, I will leave D.C. We won't see each other again."
With those words, she turned and left without looking back.
Ethan instinctively reached out to grab her.
The hem of her clothes brushed lightly against his hand.
As they passed each other, a gust of cold wind rose, but no one noticed.
Over the next few days, the mission became even more intense.
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Clara pushed everything else aside, immersing herself entirely in treating the injured.
In the rainy December, a sunny day finally arrived, but the rescue work continued at a frantic pace.
Aftershocks were frequent, making the mission difficult.
Clara was covered in sweat, but her hands were steady as she administered injections and medicine.
"Dr. Tang, someone’s trapped over there! Come and take a look!" someone shouted from the other end.
Clara quickly finished her current task, handed it over to a nurse, and ran toward the call.
"What’s the situation?" Clara crawled down quickly to inspect the trapped person.
Ethan looked at the woman he hadn't seen for several days. He pursed his lips, suppressed his emotions, and quickly explained the situation.
Clara looked at him with clear eyes. The affection in them had vanished completely, as if she were looking at an irrelevant stranger.
"Use the first plan. We can still save the leg," Clara decided quickly.
Once the person was rescued and wheeled away by the medical staff, Clara finally let out a long breath.
Just as she was about to stand up and leave, a massive tremor shook the ground beneath them.
Clara and Ethan happened to be standing in a high-risk zone.
Reacting instantly, Clara lunged toward Ethan. In a split second, they were both buried in darkness.
The shouts around them stopped abruptly.
A massive stone block nearby provided them with a sliver of space to survive. In the narrow gap, their breaths mingled.
Clara was draped over Ethan, shielding him from most of the impact.
His head had taken a heavy blow, leaving him dazed and disoriented.
But he could clearly smell the strong scent of rust.
Drip... drip...
Something warm fell onto his skin. Clara’s breathing was growing weaker.
Ethan’s heart sank to the bottom. He called out in a panic, "Clara!"
The person on top of him didn't respond. Just as he thought she had fainted, a very faint voice came from above.
"Ethan Shaw... I don't owe you anything anymore..."
Ethan’s dark pupils contracted sharply, sending a stinging pain through the back of his head.
In the next instant, fragmented memories rushed into his mind in a chaotic flood...
Her laughing, her teasing, the way she would occasionally get angry and ignore him, and the clever way she would forgive him after a bit of coaxing...
The emotions he had lost seemed to break through their cage, instantly seizing control of Ethan’s heart.
Overwhelming regret, guilt, and uncontrollable fear surged through him.
He called out in a hoarse voice, "Cece... Cece..."
But there was no response. In the darkness, only his weak, trembling voice remained.
Chapter 11
The confusion he felt when he first woke up two years ago, his avoidance of Clara Tang, and his mockery and coldness toward her at the very end—all of it began to tear Ethan Shaw’s heart apart, layer by layer.
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His original memories were resurfacing while his recent memories remained vivid. These two vastly different attitudes and sets of emotions clashed violently within him. Suppressing the agonizing headache, a single thought consumed his mind: "Clara must live..."
The moment he completely succumbed to unconsciousness, Ethan’s hand was still tightly clamped around Clara’s ice-cold wrist.
Anxious shouts echoed in his ears: "Quick, quick, they’re here!"
An unknown amount of time passed before the two of them were finally pulled from the rubble.
The Hospital.
The patient in the ICU remained in a deep coma. Clara’s parents were outside the ward, their faces stained with tears.
"I warned her countless times—don't go, don't go! Hadn't she suffered enough back then?"
Clara’s father gently patted his wife’s shoulder, his expression grim and cold.
"Contact Marcus first. Tell him to come back and handle Clara’s situation. We must use every possible method to make her wake up."
In contrast to the somber atmosphere there, Ethan’s ward was exceptionally quiet.
Summer Sheng placed a bouquet of tulips in the vase by the bedside. Ethan’s mother gestured for her to step outside.
"Summer, I heard it was Clara who saved Ethan, right?" A flash of awkwardness and guilt crossed Mrs. Shaw’s eyes. She gripped Summer’s hand tightly, trying to draw some strength.
Back then, she had indeed spoken too harshly to that girl.
Even if there were mistakes, it was a natural disaster; it shouldn't have been blamed on that child.
She had gone upstairs earlier today, and the cold words and glares from Clara’s parents had been almost unbearable.
She heard that Clara’s condition was very poor.
It was only now, with the situation reversed, that she truly realized how much she had done wrong.
Hearing this, Summer went rigid. She bit her lip and nodded, avoiding Mrs. Shaw’s gaze.
"What are we going to do? If Ethan remembers..." Mrs. Shaw’s face was filled with uncontrollable worry.
Summer’s heart grew increasingly uneasy. She, too, was terrified.
During the days Ethan had been unconscious, he would occasionally mutter Clara’s name in his sleep.
Each cry of "Cece" was like a blade piercing Summer’s heart. She had once been so certain that as long as she fought for him, the one being loved would be the winner.
But it was all a mirage, built on the foundation of Ethan not remembering his original love.
She only wanted to selfishly pray—pray that he would never remember.
Feeling unwell, Mrs. Shaw left the hospital.
Summer sat in the ward, staring blankly at the man on the bed.
Their first meeting had actually been quite simple.
Under a large tree at the rehabilitation center, the shadows were dappled.
The handsome man sat in a wheelchair, focused on a book. At another nurse’s request, she had brought him a blanket.
The moment she saw him, she froze, her heart racing.
He noticed her and greeted her with a strangely gentle tone, asking her to come over.
She thought that was the beginning of love, but it was nothing more than a deception she created for herself.
She was the one who had embellished that memory. In reality, the first thing he had asked was: "The bracelet on your wrist looks very familiar. Did I know you before?"
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