I Lost the Memory of the Man I Love after an Accident - Chapter 11

He saw me and smirked.

“Maybe now she’ll get the message,” he muttered to Katarina.

“I’m not interested.” That night, I cried until I couldn’t breathe.

Years passed.

I thought I got over him.

But even as Vincent entered my life, kind, attentive Vincent, there was always a small part of me that remembered the pain Dylan caused.

And the twisted part, I still loved him.

For so long, that part of me was pathetic.

That part of me nearly got me killed.

A sharp pain ripped through my chest.

I screamed.

My eyes snapped open.

And the world around me was no longer high school corridors or Dylan’s cruel laughter.

It was a blur of beeping machines, sterile air, and then Vincent.

He was there in an instant, arms wrapping tightly around my trembling body.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head.

“You’re safe now, baby.

Just breathe.

Breathe.” I gasped, my ribs aching, my hands clutching the fabric of a shirt.

Then I saw her, my mom crying silently and Alice behind her, pale and worried.

I remembered the wedding, the blood.

Katarina, she stabbed me, I whispered, my voice.

She’s gone, Alice said quickly, stepping forward.

She was arrested.

Everything’s going to be fine now.

Tears fell before I could stop them.

Not because of the pain, but because I realized how close I’d come to dying.

On my wedding day, Vincent held my hand all night.

He didn’t leave, not once.

Later, when I was calmer, Alice gave me the full update.

Her jaw clenched as she said it.

Katarina bailed herself out.

I blinked.

Well, technically Dylan bailed her, she muttered.

Apparently, she felt responsible.

Of course, she did.

I didn’t say anything.

I couldn’t.

I wasn’t even sure what emotion was bubbling inside me.

Disgust, pity, sadness.

Vincent leaned in, brushing his fingers against mine.

“You don’t have to worry about them anymore,” he said softly.

“You’re with me now, okay? I’ll protect you.

I won’t let anyone hurt you again.” I nodded, offering him a weak smile.

And I meant it.

I wanted to move on with Vincent.

I should have moved on.

But that night, I couldn’t sleep.

My chest achd, not from the wound, but from everything else.

I waited until Vincent’s soft snores filled the room, and Alice was curled up in the recliner.

Quietly, I pulled the blanket off and slipped my feet into slippers, wincing at the ache in my abdomen.

The hallway outside was empty, the air cool and fresh.

I just needed a minute to breathe.

But the moment I stepped out of the room, he was there.

Dylan, sitting on a bench, head bowed, holding a bouquet of white tulips in his hands.

His eyes were swollen, his face pale.

He looked up slowly when he saw me.

Then he stared.

And then he dropped to his knees.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice cracking.

“Please, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

Ree, please take me back.

I made a mistake.

So many mistakes.

I should have never let you go.

I should have gone after you.

Please, he whispered, tears streaming down his face.

Just give me one more chance.

I stood there in silence, my heart pounding in my ears.

Reese didn’t say a word to Dylan that night.

She simply turned around and walked back into her hospital room without acknowledging his desperate plea.

Without even glancing back, the sound of the door clicking shut behind her echoed louder in his ears than any rejection she had ever given before.

But Dylan didn’t stop.

For the next few days, he lingered at the hospital, outside her room, in the hallways, sometimes by the vending machine.

He waited in silence, watching from afar, never brave enough or welcome enough to step forward.

Ree never once looked at him, never spoke his name, not even when she saw him standing in the rain outside the hospital’s side entrance, so thin, shivering with flowers in hand.

Vincent noticed.

He knew she wasn’t going to tolerate it.

On the third day, Vincent spoke with a hospital administration and contacted his lawyer.

“A restraining order was filed, not only against Katarina, who had already become a fugitive after posting bail, but against Dylan as well.

“She needs peace,” Vincent said coldly.

“And he’s disturbing it.” Alice agreed.

Every time she saw Dylan lurking near the nurse’s station or walking past Reese’s room, pretending it was a coincidence, she would shoot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

You had your chance,” she told him once, catching him loitering near the cafeteria.

“You blew it.” “No, leave her alone.” Still, Dylan remained like a ghost, haunted by his own regrets.

He couldn’t tear himself away.

He watched as Vincent wiped Reese’s tears during her physical therapy sessions.

He watched as Vincent helped her into bed, gently kissed her forehead each night, and held her hand as she drifted to sleep.

He watched love, the kind he once could have had, flourish without him, and it broke him.

When Ree was finally discharged, the hallway leading to the hospital exit felt like a scene from a farewell he never wanted.

She walked slowly, supported by Vincent’s arm, Alice pushing her small suitcase behind them.

Dylan stood at a distance, eyes bloodshot, gripping the strap of his worn jacket.

She didn’t say a word.

Ree didn’t even glance at him.

And that silence was the final blow.

That night, Dylan drank and drank.

By midnight, he was sprawled on the floor of his apartment, empty bottles surrounding him like fallen soldiers.

His shirt was half buttoned, his eyes red and unfocused.

He kept whispering her name between sobs, crawling to the phone like it was a lifeline.

He called Alice.

“Please,” he slurred into the phone.

“Alice, please help me.

I’m begging you.

I don’t want anyone else.

It’s her.

It’s always been her.

I messed up.

God, I messed up so bad.

Alice was silent for a long moment before answering.

You don’t deserve her, she finally said, her voice icy.

You had years and now you’re calling me drunk after she was nearly killed by a girl you bailed out of jail.

I didn’t know.

You knew what she was capable of.

Alice snapped.

You just didn’t care.

Not until it affected you.

Please, he whimpered.

I’ll change.

I swear.

Just one more chance.

Help me get her back.

But all he got in return was the dial tone.

Alone again, he smashed the phone against the floor.

Tears streamed down his face as he screamed into the darkness of his empty apartment.

The ache in his chest was unbearable.

Regret consumed him like poison.

He thought of her, her laughter, her kindness, the way she looked at him before he destroyed everything.

And then nothing, just silence.

Somewhere far from the hospital, Katarina was running.

She knew the police were looking for her.

After being released on bail, she had gone off-rid.

She changed her appearance, dyed her hair, and packed what little she had left into a single duffel bag.

Her plan was simple.

Disappear, leave the country, start over somewhere no one knew her name.

But someone was already watching.

She never made it to the airport.

A black van screeched to a stop beside her, and before she could scream, a cloth was shoved over her face.

The last thing she remembered was the sharp sting of something chemical filling her lungs before darkness took her.

When she awoke, her wrists were bound, and the room smelled of blood and metal.

A man stepped into the dim light, dressed in all black.

His face was shadowed beneath a hood.

“Who are you?” she croked, her voice raw.

“You don’t get to ask questions,” he replied coldly.

I’ll scream.

No one will hear you.

The man leaned in close.

You tried to kill the wrong girl, he whispered.

And Vincent doesn’t forgive that.

Her eyes widened.

Vincent sent you.