WebNovels

Chapter 8 - A Puzzle I'm Afraid to Solve

He leaned back against the bench, exhaling hard. "We met that summer. You were with a group of friends at the university fair. We became your friends after that. You treated us like siblings... you called me your little brother, remember?"

I shook my head again. My chest felt hollow.

His expression softened with something between pity and sadness. Slowly, carefully, he pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen.

"Then look," he whispered, turning the screen toward me.

My breath caught.

There I was, smiling, laughing, holding up a peace sign with a group of students. He was beside me, an arm thrown casually over my shoulder. Richard stood at the edge of the frame, his gaze fixed on me, not the camera.

Picture after picture scrolled before my eyes. Me at a karaoke night, me at a bowling alley, me blowing candles on a cake I didn't remember eating.

Every smile felt foreign, every memory stolen.

"I… I don't remember any of this," I whispered, my hands trembling as I held his phone.

"But it happened," he said firmly. "You were there. You were with us. And Richard…" His voice broke slightly. "He wasn't just a part of your life. You were his life."

The weight of his words pressed down on me, heavier than the cup in my hand.

"Why was he in a car accident?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Kevin shifted on the bench, his brows drawing together. "Big sis, you know his family is complicated."

I held his gaze, searching for more. "How complicated did it get this time?"

He exhaled, his shoulders sagging. "Richard heard that his mother wants to separate from his father. His elder brother… he's always on their father's side, like a shadow. His sister, Elena, is buried in her academics, too busy to even go home. And their youngest, Carah… she's fragile. She took the fallout badly. It tore her apart."

I felt a sudden jolt in my chest, and the words slipped out before I could catch them. "His mother cheated again?"

The silence that followed was deafening. Kevin's eyes widened. His lips parted as if he wanted to ask something, but no sound came.

I froze. My own voice echoed in my head, raw and certain. Where did that come from? I pressed my hand to my temple, as if I could squeeze the truth out of my skull. "I... I'm sorry, Kevin. It was out of the blue. My brain worked faster than I realized. I don't even know why I said it."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "But… you're right, Big sis. Madam Celestine was seeing another man behind his father's back before. Richard never forgave her, not fully. But this time… this time she says she wants freedom, not just a fling. She wants to pursue her dreams, live a different life. His father, though… he's stubborn. He won't let go. He doesn't want to quit on their marriage."

A sharp ache tightened in my chest. "He must have worried about his family…"

Kevin nodded, his face clouded. "He was worried, Big sis. More than he let anyone see. But look around... right now, there's only you and me here for him. His family is too wrapped up in their own storms. You're the only one who can reach him… the only one he'll listen to."

His words sank into me, heavy and unrelenting. The only one who can reach him.

But how could I reach someone I couldn't even remember?

"What was he like?" I asked, my voice barely steady.

Kevin leaned back against the bench, thoughtful, almost cautious in choosing his words.

"He kept everyone safe… like a quiet shield you didn't realize you needed until the storm came. He warmed hearts with his smile, his presence. But…" He hesitated, looking down at his coffee cup. "There was always this distance, this invisible wall. No matter how close we thought we were to him, we couldn't reach him. We couldn't touch what he truly felt. He never let us see too much of his pain, unless he reached his breaking point."

The words stung. I tried to picture the man Kevin was describing, but all I saw was the pale face lying unconscious in a hospital bed. Someone unreachable. Someone who should have been a stranger to me… but wasn't.

"What was one thing I always did with him?" I pressed.

Kevin smiled faintly, a flicker of nostalgia in his eyes. "Play games."

I tilted my head. "Games?"

"Anything. Board games, video games, silly challenges... you always found ways to make him laugh. You even…" he paused, as though gauging my reaction, "…read tarot cards for him."

"Cards?" I echoed, my chest tightening.

"Yes. You'd shuffle them with such confidence, like you were reading threads of fate itself. He'd sit there, listening, pretending not to believe you… but he did. I could see it. He trusted what you told him, even if he didn't say it out loud."

My hand trembled against my lap. Tarot cards. A vague image flickered in my head, colorful illustrations, the scent of smoke, candlelight, but it slipped away before I could grasp it. I searched my memory, but there was nothing. When I asked my mother later, she told me I had already burned those cards. Burned them. But I couldn't remember when, or why.

Kevin went on, sharing little stories, fragments of the past I couldn't reclaim. His words painted a picture of Richard, a protector, a mystery, someone cherished. Yet, the more he said, the more detached I felt. Like he was describing someone I had never truly met.

Or maybe… just maybe… there was a side of Richard he had only ever shown to me. A side I had locked away, buried deep with the rest of my missing memories.

And that thought terrified me more than anything else.

Why would I lock my memories away and choose to forget him?

What happened between us that my own mind decided it was better to erase him, better to bury everything we shared in darkness than allow me to remember?

The fragments Kevin told me sounded almost unreal, like borrowed stories that belonged to someone else. Yet every now and then, a sharp pang would pierce through the emptiness, as if my heart recognized what my mind could not. That terrified me more than losing my memories in the first place.

What did I see in Richard that tied me to him so deeply, only for me to shut him out of my consciousness? Was it pain? Betrayal? Or something so overwhelming that I broke under the weight of it?

But above all… why did he marry me?

Marriage is not a word tossed lightly in our culture. It is a bond, a promise carved into law and soul alike. So why me? What made him stand before the world and claim me as his wife?

I closed my eyes, but instead of answers, all I found was silence. A silence so thick it pressed against my ribs, leaving me breathless.

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