"My Ice-Cold Ex Became Obsessed After I Lost My Memory." Chapter 19

A nurse entered my room with fresh disinfecting supplies.

The sharp smell of disinfectant mingled with the clean, soapy scent of hand wash.

The familiar fragrance slipped into my dreams.

My lashes began to tremble violently.

I saw the hospital corridor during the storm.

My dress was wet as I asked carefully, “Could you hug me?”

The man put his jacket around my shoulders but remained half a step away.

“Don't be difficult.”

The scene changed. I was curled on the couch with a fever, holding his arm.

“I feel awful. Could you stay with me for a while tonight?”

He slowly withdrew his hand.

The study door closed in front of me.

Then came the cold words from the hospital office.

“Leave irrelevant people and matters out of it.”

And the document envelope in the bitter wind.

“Compensation.”

Finally, the sunlit kitchen.

I folded my apron and said calmly, “Sebastian, let's break up.”

Every shattered memory came together.

Our anniversary.

The fever.

Moving out.

I screamed.

Clutching my head in agony, I set off a piercing alarm from the monitor.

Sebastian heard it, threw away his half-smoked cigarette, and practically burst into the room.

“Sophie!”

He drew my shaking body into his arms, supporting the back of my head as he tried to soothe me.

The disinfectant on his white coat. The clean soap on his skin.

These were the scents I had once loved too much to give up.

“Stop trying to remember.”

He held me tightly.

“Look at me. I'm here.”

But I pressed my hands against him and pushed him away with all my strength.

His body went rigid.

Slowly, I raised my head.

The innocent affection and dependence of my amnesia were gone from my eyes.

“I remember everything. We really did break up, Sebastian.”

The color drained from his face. His tall body swayed slightly.

He had no explanation left to offer.

I wouldn't have listened anyway.

...

Three days later, I was discharged.

Xavier came to collect me and thoughtfully took all my bags.

“Everything's packed. My car is downstairs.”

“I've booked new tickets to Paris. This time, I'm going with you.”

I nodded without mentioning anything that had happened while my memory was gone.

I had decided to start over in Paris.

But when we reached the lobby, a tall figure blocked our path.

Sebastian.

Heavy shadows lay under his eyes, and stubble darkened his jaw.

He looked unhealthy and utterly broken.

Where was the unreachable Dr. Hale whom everyone at the hospital admired?

Xavier stepped forward, shielding me behind him.

“What do you want now? She remembers everything. You're finished.”

Sebastian didn't spare him a glance.

His gaze passed over Xavier's shoulder and clung hungrily to my face.

“Sophie.”

His voice was almost unrecognizably hoarse.

“I've taken extended leave. All my surgeries have been handed over. I've canceled the symposium.”

My heart gave a sudden tremor.

Sebastian, who valued work more than his own life, who let surgeries displace even our dates, had taken extended leave?

“That has nothing to do with me.”

I forced my eyes away and made my voice cold.

Ignoring Xavier's attempt to stop him, Sebastian came to a halt half a step from me.

From his black shirt pocket, he carefully took a dark green velvet box.

Inside lay the perfume I had made by hand.

After the Rain, Unraveled.

“I've kept this with me the whole time. Before I go into surgery, I lock it in the safest cabinet.”

He spoke each word deliberately.

“It wasn't that I didn't care. I just... didn't know how to show it. I thought having you within my sight was enough.”

I looked at the bottle. My handwritten lettering had blurred where his fingers had rubbed it again and again.

I forced down the sting in my eyes.

“Love that comes too late is worthless.”

“I know.”

Suddenly, Sebastian lowered himself onto one knee.

Passing staff covered their mouths in shock.

The proud, untouchable Dr. Hale had bowed his head before a woman.

He looked up, his once-cool eyes full of pleading and a wild, fixed determination.

“Give me a chance to make it up to you. One week. Seven days.”

“Let me take care of you for seven days, as someone who owes you everything.”

“If you still want to go to Paris afterward, I'll take you to the airport myself. I won't stop you.”

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