Please Forget Me - Chapter 251

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

“I guess your brother still isn’t home yet.”

I tried to lift Killian’s spirits, reassuring him that his brother probably just hadn’t received the telegram yet—not that he was ignoring him.

But as the days passed, it became harder to ease the deepening worry on Killian’s face.

“I think tomorrow we should go to a bigger city and try calling. I should have done that sooner…”

“It’s alright. There’s no need to rush. We still have plenty of time…”

As I searched for a way to cheer him up, something caught my eye.

“How about getting some ice cream at that café over there?”

I knew ice cream wouldn’t really make Killian feel better. But seeing me enjoy it always lifted his mood a little.

“Is it good?”

“Yes. They’re all good, but the green apple flavor is my favorite.”

“Then let’s order another one in green apple.”

“Okay.”

Just seeing me eat seemed to brighten his expression.

“You should try some too.”

But Killian only sipped his bitter coffee, never touching the ice cream.

“I already know what it tastes like without trying.”

“But it’s different here, I’m telling you.”

I was used to his excuses—always trying to get me to eat more—so I knew just how to be stubborn right back.

“So? Isn’t it different?”

He probably thought it tasted just like any other apple ice cream, but he nodded with a smile. As we fed each other bites and smiled across the table, we probably looked just like any other couple out on a date.

The little café was filled with couples, holding hands and whispering sweet nothings, their faces lit up with happiness despite the heat. Here, in this small town far from the war, a peaceful summer afternoon felt like the most normal thing in the world.

But for me, all my memories were scarred by war. Such peace felt almost extravagant, and I looked around in wonder, as if I’d landed in another world.

‘Wisteria.’

Then I noticed the wisteria blossoms, cascading like violet rain over the café’s balcony railings. At that moment, I remembered something Killian had said to me not long ago.

“You told me I used to love the wisteria in your garden when I was little. Was that before or after the fire?”

“Before.”

But wasn’t it when he rescued me from the fire that he first spoke to me? How did he know I liked wisteria before then?

“Does that mean you were watching me even before you saved me?”

“Uh…”

Killian hesitated, looking flustered.

“It wasn’t anything sneaky… I promise.”

So he was watching me.

“Did you have a secret crush on me? That’s kind of thrilling.”

I clasped my hands together like an excited girl. The corners of Killian’s mouth finally turned up.

“But on the day of the fire, how did you know I was trapped at that window? You couldn’t have seen me from outside.”

“I heard your voice.”

“But it was so noisy—no matter how loudly I screamed, no one else heard me.”

“No matter how many people are shouting, I can always hear your voice.”

“Killian…”

This man was so sweet, even the ice cream tasted bland in comparison. I set it aside and moved to sit close, melting into his arms.

As he wrapped his arms around my waist, I suddenly remembered something he’d said in that recovered memory from last night.

“S-sorry for touching you without permission. I’m not usually this rude…”

Back then, he couldn’t have imagined that the girl he saved would one day be his wife.

“You know, you actually saved your future wife.”

I teased, looking up at him. Killian gazed down with so much love and nodded.

“That’s so romantic.”

Looking suddenly shy, he turned away to sip his coffee before admitting.

“Maybe it’s more accurate to say I had to save you—because you were already my future wife.”

“What do you mean?”

“We were already engaged by then. Like typical teenagers, we never bothered to ask our parent’s permission.”

“…What? How?”

We’d never even had a real conversation!

“By letter.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

He’d told me before that we used to write letters back and forth while I was living at the Hildebrandt house. Back then I’d brushed it off, thinking it was just some story. But realizing it was my story made everything feel different.

“You said you practiced hard because you wanted to talk to me face-to-face someday, right? So the first thing you ever said to me was my name? You actually practiced saying my name? That’s so romantic—just like something out of a novel.”

His face turned bright red, newly embarrassed by the idea of practicing my name just to talk to me.

“And then, just like in a novel, we ended up meeting again by chance and getting married after being apart. If I told people our story, no one would believe it was real.”

“True…”

“It still feels like a dream that I’m married to you.”

“It does feel like a dream…”

My knight. The one who always appeared to save me, no matter the danger, even risking his own life for me.