Please Forget Me - Chapter 327

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

“Dana!”

After spending another sleepless night, I followed a maid to the dining room early in the morning. A middle-aged gentleman I’d never seen before sprang to his feet and greeted me.

“Thank goodness you’re alive.”

So this must be my father.

“I was so afraid I’d lost you for good…”

He didn’t look much like me. Nor did he resemble the woman called my grandmother. He had a gentle face, and neither his words nor his expression carried any pretense.

Still, the hug he gave me the moment he saw me was terribly awkward. I don’t think that was because of me. I’d barely slept for two days and was standing there in a daze. If anything, it seemed this man had always felt awkward around me.

Holding onto my limp hands as I stared at him blankly, he asked,

“Do you remember who I am?”

“No.”

Only then did I realize it, I hadn’t recovered a single memory of my father. Perhaps there had never been anything particularly memorable about him. In any case, this face was completely new to me.

“I’m your father. Does that still not ring a bell?”

When I shook my head, despair crossed his face. Unlike my grandmother, who showed no regret at all over my memory loss, he seemed genuinely shaken. Maybe he had cared for me, at least a little, as his child.

“I’ll take you to the hospital today. My hospital has the best neurosurgeons in the kingdom. Your father is a neurosurgeon too. You don’t remember that either, do you?”

“Phineas, I’m worried about Dana too, but it’s not a fatal illness. Take it slowly. You’re a busy man, after all. And speaking of which, you should eat before the food gets cold and head to work.”

At my grandmother’s urging, we all sat down at the table. Of all the wealthy households I knew, even the lavish formal dinners of the Hildebrandt family paled in comparison to the breakfast spread laid out before me now. Either Falkland was far better off, or my own family was so rich that the war had barely touched them.

I had no appetite. Still, I couldn’t just sit there staring at an empty plate. I pretended to butter the bread a maid had placed before me, only for my grandmother to gape and sigh dramatically.

“My goodness. Have you even forgotten table manners?”

What exactly had I done wrong?

I stared down at the piece of bread in my hand in confusion, then realized. Now that I thought about it, Killian always set his bread down on the plate before buttering it. I’d never once seen him spread butter while holding it.

‘Was that considered rude?’

Curious, I placed the bread back on the plate. Only then did my grandmother relax her pinched expression. That must have been the correct way.

‘Then why did that man never once tell me it was improper, even though he knew?’

Once again, I found myself thinking of him out of habit. Meanwhile, the two of them were discussing me as if I weren’t there.

“I heard she spoke politely to a maid yesterday. She doesn’t even seem aware that she’s a Marchioness. Tsk, tsk…”

“Please don’t worry too much, Mother. I’m here. Dana will soon return to her old self.”

“How can I leave all of Dana’s care to you when you’re so busy? Leave her to me.”

“I’m sorry to burden you with the child again, Mother.”

“Burden? What nonsense, to say that to the woman who gave birth to you. If I can be of any help to you, I’d gladly work myself to the bone.”

Watching them, I almost laughed. It felt like a ridiculous farce.

Even now, none of this feels real. It’s as if the entire world is putting on a play just for me, trying to deceive me.

Is that man hiding backstage, pulling the strings again?

* * *

The man called my father was the director of an enormous hospital.

“Your father founded his hospital with investments from Rupert.”

So this was the hospital.

I was now seeing the tangible proof of the reason he had speculated about. Why I hadn’t been able to break off my engagement with Rupert.

I had no way of knowing whether his claim had been fair or not, but judging by the hospital’s sheer size and advanced facilities, if all of this truly came from the Marquis’s money, then even if my past self had wanted to call off the marriage, she likely wouldn’t have been able to.

“Do you perhaps have a medical certificate issued by a physician in Leningen?”

“No. I lost it.”

“I see. That’s all right. Then I’ll ask you a few questions now. You don’t have to answer if you don’t wish to. And if anything makes you uncomfortable, please tell me at once. I want you to know in advance that I have no intention of causing you distress…”