Carol stops by the roadside, staring at the messages she has sent. All of them are marked as delivered, but none have been read. Tears stream down her face as she breaks into sobs. She doesn’t want to leave him, but she feels powerless. She can’t remember much about her life, and now she’s the reason for his beloved woman’s death and for his injury. She can’t face him.She isn’t upset that he tried to confine her; she’s upset because he might be telling the truth. Maybe he really does love her. But how can she accept his love, knowing she caused someone he cherished to die? She’s fine with being a replacement, but won’t he always see her as the murderer of the woman he loved?She sobs, burying her face in her hands. He hasn’t read her messages. It seems he has given up for good.She doesn’t know how long she has been crying when her phone vibrates. Hoping it’s from Damien, she wishes for once he’d say goodbye with a smile. But her eyebrows rise in surprise when she sees the sender's n
Carol's exhausted body shifts slightly as she turns to look at Eunice and Sarah, who are standing next to her bed. The movement sends a wave of soreness through her limbs. William walks in shortly after, deep in conversation with a nurse about something she can’t hear.Her eyes slowly settle on Eunice, and she tries to lift her hand to communicate, but the pain is too much. Tears begin to stream down her face, her lips quivering with pain and heartache. Eunice notices Carol staring at her, her hands trembling. Without hesitation, Eunice grabs Carol’s hands and signs carefully.**Everything is alright! Damien’s surgery went well. The doctors are hopeful. It was a brain injury, so it’s complicated, but they believe he will recover.**Eunice signs messily, worried that her misuse of words might unsettle Carol even more.Carol nods, her eyelids growing heavy. She doesn’t feel like moving. Everything feels colorless, painfully cruel, and suffocatingly silent. The silence she once enjoyed n
Carol stands by Damien's hospital bed, her fingers gently wiping his hands with a damp cloth. The rhythmic beeping of the machines fills the room. It has become a constant reminder that life still clings to him. The nurse has just finished redressing his wounds, the scent of antiseptics hanging in the sterile air. It's been three days since the accident, and since then, she has made it her mission to be here, taking all the responsibilities, from the company to the hospital. Damien’s face is pale, almost unnaturally so, framed by the stark white bandages wrapped around his head. His chest rises and falls steadily, but the stillness of his body is unnerving. The doctors have said his condition is serious — a head injury that could have gone far worse — but they remain cautiously optimistic. Carol clings to their optimism like a fragile thread, afraid that letting go of hope would cause everything to shatter. Although at first they said it wasn't that life-threatening now it appeared
Carol is still in disbelief that his parents are too cruel and self-centered to see how much he's suffering. She thought only her parents were cruel people. But it just proved that people are way too selfish to love someone unconditionally.Sitting on a chair, holding his hand, Carol rests her head on the edge of the bed. The soft hum of the monitoring machine reminds her that he is still alive. His hand is warm as usual. But that hand doesn't gently squeeze hers with the sensation of love.Carol can't help but cry silently. Before the world, she shows no emotion, no agony, but when she is alone, she can't help but cry."I am sorry for everything! I don't want to leave the life I had with you. I don't want to lose that happy me when I was with you. I know that I started disliking you for all the lies, but I can't imagine how I will spend the rest of my life alone! Just wake up. I won't... I will never mention anything. Just wake up. I won't leave you at all!" she thinks between her so
Carol walks in, holding her suit, exhausted and hungry. She has just had a long meeting about Damien's absence and how she would handle everything from now on. She knows the love she has for Damien has weakened, but she believes she will be alright. She loves him and chooses to forgive. Until, She steps into the VIP room, stretching her neck. Her attention has yet to turn to Damien's side as she places her suit and bag on the couch. Feeling like she will be alright if she gets some sleep, she decides to take a quick shower. But her attention shifts to the shopping bags. James's jacket is still there. The coldness is increasing; it may snow tonight. She frowns slightly and turns to grab the jacket, but she pauses, finding James standing by Damien's bed and Damien staring at her with a confused expression. "Damien?" she exclaims in her mind, tears gathering in her eyes. She leaves her phone on the couch, rushes to him, and jumps into his arms like a desperate child who has bee
Damien's POV.... It's the first time James raised his voice at me. It's strange that he would dare to go against me for a woman. Carol? I don't remember her. It's not a fake or prank. Why would I prank something like this? if she is my significant other, I will never hurt her or forget her, even on my worst day. But it's strange. She is calm, composed and knows what I want before I spit it out of my mouth. As if she has the ability to read my mind. ** Stretch your legs a bit!** She says, her expression is usual calmness. How could she stay so calm after knowing that I forgot about her? I don't remember that she is my wife but she remembers that I am her husband, right? Or maybe....!!!! I actually kidnapped her and forced her to be a good wife..... Or....??? Is this a contract marriage? .... No, Maybe a fake one. That's why she doesn't care. ** Stop staring at me!** She signs again. She is really attentive. She doesn't speak. But her company doesn't make me feel boring
It was chaotic. I watched the videography of our wedding day. So I was nothing but a replacement as a groom and I was the one who initiated it. Did I fall in love with her at first sight? If not, why would I fall in love with her when she was about to get married? And certainly, according to James's words, I actually knew her from high school. The strange thing is that, I remember everyone including my sister who died in the car accident but I don't remember anyone named Carol who was actually in my junior school. Is this even possible to happen? I mean my sister Carol used to live binge movies with cliché parts where male lead loses memories and some part of their life. But how did I just forget such an important thing. Only her, and anything related to her. It doesn't make sense to me but here I am watching a few moments of my life with that woman who cries every night silently. She can't talk or hear. It must be hard but can I really love her the same as I used to? I mean
Carol grabs her laptop after finishing the meeting with her clients. Recently, she has been feeling a bit off with her health. She feels extremely tired, sleepy, and dizzy. The pressure has been getting harder, so she can't actually blame anything else for it.As she walks towards the door to leave, James, who has been helping her, walks towards her with hurried steps.**Boss!** He opens the door, stopping her.Carol isn't used to being called Boss. But she doesn't say anything about it either.**About the business trip. I think you should go!**Carol's eyebrows narrow as he signs. Just now, she had a meeting with a foreign ambassador of a big company from Australia. It's their very first big project with great potential. However, Damien is recovering. She can't leave him alone for a week-long trip to Australia. She said she would send some experts in her place to handle the project.**I know you are trying to be there for Damien. But I think you should take this chance to give yourse
It’s late evening, and the house is quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioner. Everyone left except Carol. She just put Aria in her bed after a long day. Carol is curled up on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone, catching up on the day’s events. The soft glow from the screen lights up her face, and she can’t help but smile as she reads a message from her best friend, Eunice. After what felt like a long stretch of tension and uncertainty, Eunice and James have decided to try again—James is back, and it seems like they’re working things out. Carol’s heart swells with happiness for her friend. Just as she leans back, stretching her legs on the couch, the front door opens, and Damien walks in. His shoulders are hunched, his tie slightly loosened, and he looks exhausted. The stress from his day is evident, and he doesn’t even bother to take off his shoes before walking towards the living room. Carol raises an eyebrow, putting her phone down and watching
Aria sits quietly on the couch, her little body curled up into a ball, her plush carrot tightly held against her chest. Her small face is scrunched up, a mixture of confusion and sadness overtaking her usual lively demeanor. She can’t stop thinking about what happened with Julian earlier, and it's hurting her innocence heart more than she’s willing to admit. She is confused why Julian wants to play with someone else when she is playing with him. Damien, noticing his daughter’s silence, looks over at her from the kitchen, where he’s sipping his coffee. His heart clenches at the sight of her pouting face. Aria usually bounces around the house with boundless energy, but today, she’s a shell of her usual self. He places the mug down on the counter and walks over to her. “Hey, kiddo,” he says softly, sitting beside her on the couch. He gently pulls her onto his lap, his big hands rubbing circles on her back as he tries to comfort her. “What’s wrong, princess? Why the long face?” Aria d
The apartment is filled with the sound of the faint rustling of clothes and the occasional thud of a box being moved around. It’s quiet in a way that feels almost suffocating, the air thick with the unspoken tension that has been building for weeks. Since James hasn't been in his company, I couldn't ignore the situation. He wants to stay a few days to travel around the city. However, he has been getting lots of calls from his assistant. I can't let him slack off all day like a lazy ass. I sit cross-legged on the bed, staring at the half-packed suitcase in front of me, my fingers mindlessly folding the clothes I’ve laid out. My thoughts are a jumbled mess, as usual, filled with a thousand things—mostly about what’s coming next, about leaving and starting over, about the future that feels uncertain. But there’s one constant. One person. James. I can feel him watching me from across the room, where he’s leaned lazily against the dresser, arms crossed, his gaze locked onto me
Although I couldn't secure a position in the American branch of my company, for our best interests, James has asked me to work for him in his company. Although it's a new company, Damien has been helping him with lots of projects. We will leave soon. I have resigned my position. The bar is alive with music, the low hum of conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter as glasses clink together in celebration. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol, fried food, and something bittersweet that lingers beneath it all—farewells. My farewell. I should be celebrating. This is my night, after all. A send-off from colleagues who’ve become friends, from a place that’s been my home for years. A place I fought to leave, worked tirelessly to outgrow. But as I sit at the bar, nursing my fourth—or maybe fifth?—drink, there’s a hollow feeling settling deep inside me, like something slipping through my fingers no matter how tightly I try to hold on. Maybe because I acknowledged th
The apartment is unbearably quiet. I sit curled up on the couch, knees drawn to my chest, staring blankly at the dark ceiling. The only sound is the faint hum of the refrigerator, but even that feels distant—like the world outside this room no longer exists. James’s message from last night is still on my phone, the words burning into my mind. "Staying at a hotel tonight. Don’t wait up."He didn’t call. Didn’t ask to talk. Didn’t even ask why. I clutch the blanket around me, my fingers tightening in the fabric. The weight in my chest is suffocating, pressing down like a stone. Sleep never came, only hours of staring at the walls, thinking about the moment he found that ticket—how his expression darkened, how he left without another word. He knows. And I hurt him. The sky outside turns from black to gray, signaling morning, but it doesn’t bring relief. The ache in my chest only deepens. I can’t sit in this silence any longer. My hands tremble as I pick up my phone and d
Eunice, The morning sunlight drapes across the living room, casting a golden warmth over the space. Everything feels too still, too peaceful, as if the world itself is oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. James moves around the kitchen with ease, sleeves rolled up, flipping pancakes like it’s second nature. I watch him, mesmerized by the way he hums under his breath, his presence so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. It should be comforting—this domesticity, this quiet moment between us. But instead, my chest tightens, because I know that soon, everything will change. Since we have returned home, I have been fighting with myself for a decision that I thought was simple a month ago. However, his appearance, me falling in love with him again made that simple decision one of the hardest decisions ever. I haven’t told him yet. “You’re staring,” James teases, his voice smooth, pulling me out of my thoughts. He glances over his shoulder, flashing that boyish grin that u
With a long-suffering sigh, he nods. “Fine. I promise.” Aria beams, hugging him tightly. “Yay! My Julie forever!” Irene smirks, crossing her arms. “We’ll see about that.” Julian groans, rubbing his temples as Aria and Irene continue their tug-of-war over him. He has had enough. “Can you both just stop?!” He snaps finally, his patience finally breaking and wearing off. Especially to Aria who is clinging onto him like a slime. Silence falls. Aria blinks, her grip on his shirt loosening. “J-Julie…?” Her voice is small, uncertain. Julian exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Irene, you always mess with me and now her, and Aria, you act like a spoiled kid whenever I talk to anyone else!” His voice is firm, frustrated. “I can be friends with other people! You don’t own me, Aria!” His sharp cold eyes shudders Aria who looks confused with Julian's cold and indifferent gaze. The room suddenly feels too quiet. Aria’s fingers tremble as she stares at him,
Julian narrows his eyes before walking towards the door, " What's their name!?" He asks. " Julie! You got friends. What about me?" She follows him hugging her plush. " I don't know her name but she is here to play with you!" Julian walks downstairs while Aria skips the staircases one after one. " Why do you have friends? I don't have friends. I want to be friends with your friend!" She keeps whining while running towards Julian. " Hi! Julian!" A girl wearing a beautiful dress shyly waves her hand. " I am here to play." " Irene! Why are you here?" Julian asks, frowning a bit. " To play -!" Julian barely takes two steps forward before Aria latches onto his arm, her plush carrot squeezed against her chest like a battle shield. Her big, round eyes lock onto the girl standing before them, her lips pursed in a deep frown. Irene blinks, then smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Is this your little sister, Julian?” Aria gasps dramatically, releasing Julian just to s
Two days ago, Julian told her that he hated her for touching his homework. Now she is yet to get over from that shock. Julian barely stirs under the warmth of his blanket, his face half-buried in his pillow. The room is quiet except for the faint rustling of fabric as he tries to sink deeper into sleep. But Aria stands frozen at his bedside, her tiny fists clenched, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "He said he hates me…" Her lips tremble, but not from sadness—from determination. She knows Julian better than anyone. He can say all he wants, but the moment she starts crying, he’ll melt like an ice cream cone in the sun. Taking a deep breath, she clenches her plush carrot and prepares for battle. She sniffs. Loudly. A little whimper escapes her lips, followed by another dramatic sniff. Then, with precise control, her lower lip wobbles as she blinks rapidly, allowing fat, glistening tears to pool in her big eyes. Julian shifts slightly under the blanket. She s