After He Lost His Memory, He Loved Me Chapter 06
I got home late from work.
The study lights were on.
Bright enough to hurt your eyes—like he was trying to keep himself awake.
I brought him a coffee and stood behind him for a while.
He was so focused he didn’t even notice the rich, bitter smell.
After a long time, he looked up from his papers and saw me.
He jumped.
“Why aren’t you in bed?”
“Came to check on you.”
I glanced at the spread-out papers.
Quarterly reports.
Leo took off his glasses, took the coffee, and took a small sip.
“You go to sleep. I need to review next quarter’s ad spend.”
I noticed the dark circles under his eyes.
Something twisted in my gut.
“Don’t you have a marketing director?”
“New hire from a headhunter. I don’t fully trust him yet.”
I snatched the coffee out of his hands.
“Don’t drink this.
You’ll never sleep.”
He pulled me into his arms, his eyes dancing with laughter.
“You’re worried about me?”
Worried?
I mean… maybe a little.
And then I remembered that I was hiding the truth about his amnesia from him, and my stomach turned again.
Like right now.
He was holding me face-to-face in his lap, his tall nose nuzzling into my neck, and I felt like I was sitting on needles.
I gritted my teeth and told myself—you picked this dark path, now walk it.
Leo’s starry eyes were heavy-lidded.
His throat moved.
His hand, hot and burning, slid up along my waist.
“Why so quiet, huh?”
“Stop it.”
I grabbed his wandering hand but met those hungry eyes.
I started to wonder.
Had Leo really never liked me? Like, ever?
I couldn’t explain what I was feeling.
Like someone was slow-motion squeezing my heart.
It was weird and tingly.
A feeling I almost never had made me lean down and kiss his soft lips.
Our first real kiss.
It lasted forever.
We kept going all the way to the bedroom.
Forget the reports.
Even if the marketing director dropped dead tonight, he wasn’t looking at them anymore.
He tore off his clothes in three seconds and pinned me down.
Even then, he looked down at me with half-closed eyes, like he was checking my face.
I stared at him, stunned.
This guy.
He could barely keep his eyes open, and he still wanted to—?
“Dude. If you’re that tired, just go to sleep.”
He looked completely lost but still managed to answer, “No. What if I fall asleep on the wrong person?”
I said nothing.
He didn’t make it.
Right after saying that, his head dropped, and he collapsed onto the bed.
Poor guy was so exhausted he passed out.
There was so much I wanted to say, but I just sighed.
I took off his shoes and socks, gave him a quick wipe-down, and tucked him in.
Then I brushed the messy hair off his forehead.
He looked so cute.
I grabbed a hair tie and gave him a little ponytail-bangs situation.
Then I took his phone and snapped a selfie with him, posting it on his Moments.
Leo had two iMessage accounts—one for work, one for personal.
I only posted on his personal one.
Then I scrolled through the comments from his friends, laughing at all the jokes and jealous remarks, until my own phone buzzed.
A friend request on iMessage.
Profile picture was a professional shot of a woman with her arms crossed.
She looked super familiar.
Oh?
Chloe wants to add me?
I didn’t accept right away.
She got impatient.
Her friend request note went from the default “you’re losing money if you ignore me” to “Hi Miss Moore, this is Chloe.”
Then: “Miss Moore, you there?”
Then: “Bella, don’t pretend you don’t see this.”
I put my phone down and went to take a shower.
When I came back, the friend request messages had gotten super long.
The last one was:
“By the way, we’ve slept together.”
All my sleepiness disappeared.
Before I knew it, my finger slipped.
[You are now friends with this person. You can now chat.]
[The other person is typing…]
I said nothing.
While I waited for her inevitable essay, I grabbed an apple and started peeling it.
The typing notification kept popping up on and off.
She was clearly typing and deleting, typing and deleting.
Having a rough time.
Before she could get a word out, I asked: “Who gave you my iMessage?”
The typing paused.
“Sophia.”
“Ah.”
“Miss Moore, if you two don’t love each other, what’s the point of staying married?”
Pfft.
I’m keeping the seat warm.
What’s it to you?
I bit into my apple and typed: “How do you know we don’t have feelings for each other? Have you been hiding under our bed?”
“He told me himself.
In bed!”
“Oh.”
Long pause.
Then: “Ha. Bella, you couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
“So you did sleep with him?”
“Of course!”
I sent her a thumbs-up.
Then I went to the kitchen, grabbed a few things, laid them out on the floor, and sent her photos, from smallest to biggest:
A toothpick.
A small cucumber.
A large cucumber.
An insulated mug.
Then I asked: “Since you’ve slept with him, tell me—which one is he?”
She was stunned.
After a long pause, she typed: “How could it be an insulated mug?!”
“That’s not the point. Just answer the question.”
Chloe was clearly confused.
The typing notification kept blinking on and off.
Finally: “The third one.”
“You sure?”
“No, wait—the second one!”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure!”
“Congratulations. You’re wrong.”
Chloe: …
I felt a little bad for her.
I decided to give her another chance.
“Hey, he snores when he sleeps. Did that keep you up?”
“So what if he snores? I don’t mind.”
“You’re lying. He doesn’t snore at all.”
Chloe: …
K.O.
Case closed.
I blocked her and tossed my phone aside.
Thank God she got it wrong.
Otherwise, I wouldn’t have just been peeling that apple.
Leo was sleeping soundly next to me.
He’d been burning the candle at both ends lately.
Dark circles, stubble.
But somehow, I liked him more and more.
Touching him felt sweet and numb, sour and bitter all at once.
It started in my fingers, gathered in my veins, and spread all the way to my heart.
This time, I was really a goner.
You big softie.
Please don’t let me lose.
Guess what?
Of course God couldn’t be that good to me.
Early the next morning, I heard crying in the living room.
Sophia’s voice broke as she sobbed: “If I hadn’t shown Bella that photo that day, she wouldn’t have asked my brother for a divorce. She wouldn’t have driven out in that storm. She wouldn’t have been in the hospital for days. I feel so guilty…”
What storm?
What car accident?
What hospital?
“Where’s that photo? Let me see it.”
I walked out.
She froze.
She carefully watched my face.
“You know… that photo, Bella. What’s wrong?”
Evelyn was trying to shut her up.
“Sophia! They’re doing fine now. Why are you bringing that up again?”
I held out my hand.
“Show me. One more time. Then we’ll drop it.”
Sophia hesitated, glancing at me nervously.
Evelyn just sighed.
Like it could be a nude or something.
If it was, I’d eat my phone.
Sophia gave me a pitying look and handed me her phone.
Ha ha ha.
Wow.
…It was a nude.