Please Forget Me - Chapter 370

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

The doctor lifted his gaze from my wounds and looked up at his aged mother with the eyes of a man who had just been stabbed through the chest.

“Mother….”

“Phineas….”

“Is it true?”

He’s really asking that scheming witch? What’s the point of asking?

“No. How could I—hic—how could I ever do such a cruel thing to my own granddaughter? Dana, this time I truly wasn’t in my right mind. I understand that you’re angry, but to accuse me of abusing you your whole life? That’s too cruel. You know how much I cherished you, hic…”

Of course she would cry like that, twisting the story until I became the ungrateful monster. I could see it. The doctor’s eyes were beginning to waver. The sight made me feel like I was going insane.

“I remember everything perfectly! Where do you get off lying like this?!”

I knew screaming like a madwoman only worked against me, but I couldn’t swallow the injustice any longer.

I wasn’t close to my father. I wasn’t nearly as cunning as that old woman. I had no witnesses, no airtight proof. I was standing in an utterly hopeless position, just like that night when I’d had to escape a valley surrounded by mines, barbed wire, and soldiers before my killing of a military officer was discovered.

Back then, Killian had been with me. I’d barely held onto my sanity and survived because of him.

Today, I was alone.

And so I gave up trying to be careful. I let everything spill out.

“Doctor, I told you. Almost all the memories I regained were bad ones. Do you know how clearly I remember Grandmother? But you, you aren’t in my memories at all. Not because they’re good ones. Because you were never there.”

Tears burst out as soon as the words left my mouth.

“If you’d paid even a little attention to me, I wouldn’t have been abused. And even if I had been, I wouldn’t have been branded a liar afterward! The person I resent the most is you!”

People tend to place their last shred of hope not in their abusers. But in those who watch and do nothing. And it’s always those bystanders who disappoint you the deepest.

“Now I understand why I never begged you to save me from Grandmother. You were never going to be on my side.”

This wasn’t just about him asking the perpetrator for the truth. She was someone who would obviously deny it.

“You know the Marquis deceived me. You know Killian was the real one. You know I want to go back to him, and yet you’re still forcing me to marry the Marquis!”

“Dana, that’s—”

The doctor, who had been kneeling to examine my injuries, began to rise, trying to sound calm and reasonable.

I was sick of it.

“You’re no different from your mother! What makes you better than her? You don’t even have the right to feel betrayed! You’re a coward who shoved your responsibilities onto someone else!”

I snapped and grabbed him by the collar, yanking him up.

“What do you think you’re doing? Let go of my son this instant!”

The old woman lunged at me the moment I grabbed her precious child.

“Mother, please step back.”

The doctor said sharply, pulling her away before turning to me.

“Dana, you’re mistaken. I didn’t abandon you because you were a burden.”

“Oh? Right. You were just busy, weren’t you?”

“……”

“Either way, you didn’t act like a father. Don’t expect to be treated like one after dumping your duties on someone else.”

“Dana… you’re right. I was wrong. I have no excuse. Please forgive me.”

I froze.

I hadn’t expected an apology.

“…So what? You admit it now and apologize, and I’m just supposed to forget everything and forgive you?”

Being apologized to felt humiliating.

Because it looked easy for him. Like it was something he could acknowledge and brush aside without pain.

Then what was I? Someone who had carried this rot inside for nearly twenty years until it festered and burst?

My grip on his collar tightened.

“Give it all back. Then I’ll forgive you. Undo everything. Make it so I was never beaten, never locked in a closet. Bring my mother back. Erase everything that happened to me, then ask for forgiveness.”

At last, the abscess I’d carried for twenty years finally burst.