MainNovelChapter 395
Clara stood in the living room, feeling helpless as she watched the man head into the master bedroom. She
hovered by the door, straining to catch any sound, but it was completely silent inside. Anxious, she sank onto
the couch, counting the minutes until the man in the white coat finally emerged. She quickly approached him.
"How is he?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.
The man had sharp eyes that seemed to command attention with just a glance. "He's alright. This happens a lot.
He just needs his meds."
A lot? No wonder sof his actions seemed so intense sometimes.
She noticed the box he was carrying, filled with medications that were probably for mental health issues. "These
meds won't have any bad side effects, will they? Like making him more anxious?" she inquired.
The man raised an eyebrow with a slight smile. "Anxiety isn't one of the side effects, Ms. Clara. Haven't you
realized? You're his best medicine."
Clara fell silent, knowing Z had high hopes for her hopes she couldn't meet, leaving him in turmoil. She rubbed
her temples, feeling a bit defeated. "You're a doctor, right? Can you help with my amnesia? Maybe if | remember
the past, I'll understand why he's so unsettled."
"If you remember, will he still be part of your world? That's what makes him anxious. When you're clear-headed,
you don't seem to notice him.”
Clara thought her amnesia was the cause of Z's anxiety, but it turned out his unease cfrom the fear she'd
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtregain her memory any day.
If she remembered, this beautiful dream might burst like a bubble.
She didn't know what to say as the man advised, "He's taken his meds and is resting. You should go be with him,
Ms. Clara."
Clara politely showed him out before opening the door to the master bedroom. Inside, it was pitch dark and
silent, as if Z had becused to living in the shadows. She felt her way to the bed and slipped under the
covers.
Her hand reached out, tracing down his arm until she found the bracelet with the red beads. "I'm sorry for being
upset earlier. Let's talk about marriage when things aren't so hectic, okay?" she suggested, trying to
compromise.
His hand gently squeezed hers, but he stayed silent.
Clara moved closer. "lI won't take off this bracelet. I'll wear it always. As long as | have it on, it means | still love
you. Even if we fight, as long as it stays on, there's hope for us, alright?"
She was giving in again.
Clara was pretty principled. So far, Z hadn't done anything to hurt her. He was her boyfriend, and knowing he
had these struggles, she felt she should be more understanding.
Z's eyelashes fluttered, and perhaps due to the medication, he seemed unusually calm. "Okay."
Clara sighed softly and closed her eyes. "Let's sleep."
They didn't bring up their earlier argument, and soon drifted off in each other's
arms.
When Clara woke up, she realized she was alone. She got up and opened the wardrobe to change, only to find
her notebook missing. She remembered it had a random line scribbled on it-Don't trust Dylan.
It seemed like a meaningless note, but she still couldn't remember why she wrote
i)
Only Z had been in her room, so he must have taken it.
Taking a deep breath, she called him.
His voice was low and somber. "I took it."
Clara was momentarily speechless; she always felt a soft spot for Z.
She felt for him, living all alone in the countryside, used to the darkness, guarding his brother's grave, avoiding
everyone.
And she pitied their past, which wasn't great, but he still loved her.
Loneliness, unrequited love, and so many unknowns shaped him. But she was willing to be there for him now.
"Why'd you take the notebook? | wrote that ages ago, and | don't even know why. Dylan and | are nothing," she
quickly reassured him, worried he might be jealous.
Z's fingers traced over the words slowly, his voice soft. "I believe you."
Clara chatted a bit longer about other things. As she pulled clothes from the wardrobe, two cards fell out.
-Once everything is over, I'll cget you.
Happy Birthday, Clara.
They fluttered to the floor like snowflakes. Clara crouched to pick them up, still clueless about who had written
them.
Meanwhile, Z pulled out his phone, revealing a photo of the cards. He hadn't taken them but had captured them
in a photo. He stared at the words for a long tuntil his eyes grew heavy, then finally turned off the screen.
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