Please Forget Me - Chapter 284

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

At that point, I began to wonder why your father hadn’t protected you. I had heard rumors that Dr. Loveridge loved your mother deeply and cherished the daughter who resembled her so closely.

It was said that even after being left alone at a young age, he never remarried or took a lover, all for his daughter’s sake.

My father doesn’t know.

Perhaps it was a relief that he wasn’t knowingly turning a blind eye.

I was afraid of my grandmother, so I couldn’t tell him. And Father is busy, he needs my grandmother to manage the household. If I caused friction between them, it would put him in a difficult position… and that would put me in one too.
So… I just need to grow up quickly, get married, and leave this house. It won’t be much longer. I can endure that much.

I told you before, didn’t I? You had a habit of believing that if you alone endured the pain, everyone else would be happy.

But you’re Dr. Loveridge’s only child. The person he loves most in the world. And he’s your father. Protecting his child is a parent’s responsibility. Even if it causes trouble, that burden is his to bear. Dana, things might go more smoothly than you expect. Try telling him.

It turned out that all the long explanations you gave were just a facade. The real reason you couldn’t tell your father about the abuse was something else entirely.

But what if I tell him… and he takes my grandmother’s side too?
—
Then I’ll be on your side. No matter what.

You were terrified of being abandoned. That fear didn’t come from your head injury, you had been afraid of abandonment long before that.

Whenever I was locked in the closet, I used to imagine this: I was a princess kidnapped by an evil witch and imprisoned in a castle, and then a handsome knight would appear, defeat the witch, and rescue me. It’s childish, I know. But without that fantasy, I think I would have gone mad from the darkness and hunger long ago.
This time, I endured by imagining that you—someone whose face I don’t even know—would come and save me. How wonderful it would be if you were my knight.
—
Dana, I’ll be your knight. Next time, I promise I’ll save you.
—
Then, my knight, if I disappear again someday, come rescue me from the closet in the far-right room on the third floor of the annex.
—
I promise.
—
Thank you.

Perhaps I wasn’t the first man to promise to stop your grandmother’s abuse. You thanked me, but you didn’t truly seem to believe my resolve. People who are wounded find it hard to trust others.

What eventually made you trust me was my unwavering, ardent courtship afterward.

This time, I drew your favorite flowers. When we marry, I won’t give you scentless paintings. I’ll pick real flowers for you every day. Not a single day missed. Growing old together like that is my dream.

I didn’t realize you had been hiding behind an invisible wall until it finally crumbled. Until you began to show disappointment and ask things of me for the first time.

Marriage? I haven’t even accepted a proposal yet. No, actually, I’ve never even received one.

You had every right to feel hurt.

What kind of preparations are you making that it’s taking this long?
At least tell me your name. I know I’m supposed to find you myself, but I truly have no idea who you are.

You even told me that you had hidden in the library, waiting for me to appear. Yet you still hadn’t seen me.

Of course you hadn’t. I always knew where you were. You probably never realized that while you were peeking out from behind the shelves, determined to catch sight of me, I was hiding and watching you in return.

Why won’t you tell me your name? Is it because you think I’ll avoid you if I know who you are? Are you someone I dislike? Or is there something terribly wrong with your appearance?
—
No, Dana. Even the people who dislike me admit I’m handsome. So you don’t need to worry about that.
—
Then why are you hiding your name?
Don’t tell me… everything you said about yourself was a lie? You’re not one of the noble youths staying at this estate, are you? You’re a servant who works here—an older man with a wife and children—pretending to be a boy to seduce me. That’s why you won’t appear.

I told you, didn’t I? That your imagination now is just like it was when you were young.

I’m starting to be afraid of you.

After that day, you never replied to my letters again. Until I could prove that I wasn’t a middle-aged servant with a wife and children, there would be no reply. Of that I was certain.