Please Forget Me - Chapter 197

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

The man who’d been happily smiling as he talked about our future suddenly looked anxious again.

“Of course, nobles don’t work, but if there’s something you want to do, I’ll support you. Just promise me you won’t… leave.”

“But I don’t have anything I want to do.”

He touched my forehead with a bitter look. It was a habit that surfaced whenever he realized how much I’d changed after my injury.

“I guess the old me had dreams before.”

“You wanted to be a doctor.”

I understood why he looked so sad. Having lost my memory, personality, and intellectual abilities, I couldn’t become a doctor anymore.

“I see.”

I should feel regret like him, but I didn’t. That wasn’t my dream now; it was someone else’s.

I just wanted to survive without worries. Ambitious dreams like becoming a doctor are a luxury for those whose tomorrows are guaranteed.

“What was your dream?”

The man said his old dreams didn’t matter anymore, and told me his current dream.

“To grow old with you.”

His dream was to live happily with me and pass away peacefully. The moment I heard that, I decided to make his dream mine.

“When we return home, I promise I’ll make you happy.”

He kept promising that once this ordeal was over, he’d make me happy, but honestly, I never felt unhappy during this hardship.

Sleeping rough, eating rough, constantly running—but walking all day beside the man I loved, receiving flowers with their meanings during the day, and falling asleep at night under the stars listening to his calm voice telling stories of constellations.

So absurdly, I was happy now.

I’m someone who can find happiness even when my life is in danger, but why was my past self, who lived a luxurious life with tomorrow guaranteed, so unhappy?

“In summer, the wisteria blooms by the pond, and standing beneath it feels like being showered in purple rain. You liked it as a child too…”

I wanted to ask why my past self was unhappy, but listening to his lullaby-like voice made me sleepy, so I didn’t.

* * *

Today’s lunch consisted of two cans of preserved meat we found in an abandoned farmhouse and the crackers we had brought along. The food didn’t go down well, probably because of the scorching heat. The man also barely ate more than a few bites today.

“I’ll go refill the canteen.”

“Wait a moment.”

I caught the man just as he was about to head to the well to prepare for our next leg of the journey.

“How about taking a nap for an hour or two before we go?”

“Are you tired? Well…”

“No, not me. You’re the one who’s tired.”

I had slept longer than usual because he hadn’t woken me. Because of that, he hadn’t slept a wink.

“I spent the whole night admiring your face, so I’m all refreshed.”

“If you lie again, what did I say? Do you want a divorce?”

“Why do you think I’m lying? That’s unfair.”

He kept smiling, trying to seem not tired, but even that smile looked haggard to me.

“Take a nap before we go. I’ll wake you up.”

“I’m fine.”

I tried to tempt him by patting my thigh and asking him to rest his head there, but to my surprise, he refused.

“Stop that and let me carry you.”

As soon as we set off again, he noticed the way I walked and offered to carry me. I’d suddenly developed blisters on my feet after walking all day, even though I hadn’t been walking much before.

I’d had the blisters since the first day but had kept it hidden from him. This morning, while washing my feet at the stream, he caught on.

“It must have hurt every time you walked. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Because that would have added one more thing to feel guilty about.

He was already someone who avoided kissing me boldly because he felt ashamed whenever he looked at me. The one who hit me probably wouldn’t even feel sorry in hell, yet the one who didn’t hit me was going crazy with guilt.

For several days, he kept insisting on carrying me, like it was his way to atone. Though I let him once or twice, being carried by a man who hadn’t slept was a burden on my own heart too.

“That’s enough.”

“Don’t be stubborn, Dana.”

“Who’s the stubborn one here? Enough with this—how about we make a deal?”

“Deal?”