Chapter 2 Memories.

I had to let him lead me once we got inside the house. It was pretty big, and since I was a stranger here, all I could do was follow his instructions. My head was still aching, which is why I didn't argue when he insisted I stay. Maybe he sensed it, because he went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water and some painkillers. I felt relieved-I didn't even know how to start explaining my headache or ask for medicine.

In the short time we had interacted, I had already noticed that he didn't talk much but only when necessary. That might have been another reason as to why I didn't protest. I was certain he hadn't brought me here to harm me. If he had bad intentions, he wouldn't have saved me earlier. Something about him felt genuine, like he meant well.

Besides, I knew I wouldn't have been able to sleep if I'd gone home alone. I'd have been terrified in my own house, traumatized by what had happened. There's no way I'd be able to close my eyes peacefully.

"Don't think too much... Let's go upstairs."

I looked up at him when he said those words. His voice was calm and quiet, but I couldn't read his mood. His face remained unreadable. He turned and led the way, and I followed.

Everyone dreams of living in a beautiful house-but never in my wildest dreams had I imagined a house like this. Everything was huge, clean, and perfectly arranged. The furnishing was elegant, everything in its place with a grace that spoke of wealth and taste.

We walked up the stairs to the first floor. I'm a keen observer, and I'd already taken in all the rooms around us. He paused for a few seconds, then took my hand. I followed as he opened a door. If I was right, this was a master bedroom. If I was wrong, then all the bedrooms in this house must be grand.

We hadn't even stepped inside yet, but I could already tell how luxurious it was. He led me in, and just like I thought-it was magnificent. A large canopy bed stood in the center with side tables and lamps. Huge wardrobes lined the wall, neatly filled with various clothes. The ones that needed hangers were hung; the rest were folded perfectly. Another wardrobe, specifically for shoes, sat to the side-also large and packed with different types of footwear. If I tried counting them all, it would take forever.

Across the room stood a huge curved television, and next to it, a translucent glass door led into what had to be the bathroom. I was busy admiring everything when my eyes settled on one of the bedside tables. It had a framed photo-of him. So this was his room? I was surprised.

"You can use this."

His voice snapped me back to reality. I turned quickly to face him. He was holding out a white towel. I wasn't stupid-I knew what that meant. But wait, was I expected to shower in his room? And why had he brought me here? This house was massive; there had to be guest rooms. He could have easily placed me in one. I wouldn't have minded-it would still have been better than mine.

"By the time you're done, I'll already be out of the room," he said calmly, as if reading my thoughts. "I'll try and find something from the wardrobe that might fit you. Be quick-I'll be back in twenty minutes."

Without another word, I headed to the bathroom. It was bigger than any normal one, complete with a bathtub and a rain shower. I didn't have time for a bath, so I opted for the shower-it was faster. Still, I took my time scrubbing thoroughly, applying lots of shower gel. I felt like the stench of that brat from earlier was still clinging to my skin.

Once done, I returned to the bedroom and found a satin nightdress laid out. Where did he get that from? Did it belong to his girlfriend? And if it did, why would he give it to me? But as I examined it, I realized it looked brand new. Without overthinking it, I slipped it on. I didn't want him to return and find me still wrapped in a towel.

A few minutes later, the door opened and he came in, carrying a small tin.

"Looks good on you," he said, walking over. "I bought it for my ex, but I guess it has a new owner now."

He knelt down and gently unwrapped my knee. The tin had hot water, and using a cloth, he cleaned the wound and pressed it to ease the swelling. Thankfully, I wasn't limping-thank God for that.

"Want to eat something? I'm not a good cook, but I made some noodles. If you don't like them, we can order something," he said once he was done tending to my injury.

"There's no need... I'll just have the noodles."

Honestly, I was starving, and I couldn't wait for takeout. Plus, I'm not much of a foodie-most of it would go to waste anyway. Noodles would do just fine.

We headed downstairs for the meal. I had so many questions burning inside me, and I couldn't hold back anymore.

"Do you live here alone?"

That was my first question, and he answered openly.

"Currently, yes. I used to live with my ex but now..." He paused. That was enough for me. No need to dig further.

"So since it's only you now, how do you manage? Like, cleaning and everything?"

Forgive my nosiness, but the house was massive. It couldn't be easy to handle alone.

"My ex fired every house help I hired," he said, sipping from a glass of juice, not even looking at me. "After she left, I fired everyone else too. I manage okay-some cleaners come twice a week."

It felt like he wanted to end the conversation, and knowing my place, I didn't ask more.

"You'll use my bedroom tonight," he said once we were back on the first floor. "I'll be in the other one. Sleep well."

And just like that, he left. I watched him walk to another room and lock the door behind him. I did the same. He didn't even give me a chance to say thank you-or mention that I'd have preferred a different bedroom. How could he give me the master bedroom and then leave to sleep on the guest room? Was that even making sene?

But at that point, all I wanted was sleep. I didn't want anything else to distract me. I didn't want to think about what had happened earlier and risk having nightmares.

I slipped into bed and buried myself under the covers. I didn't even turn off the lights-I hate darkness.

******

While still in the car, I had noticed Aria had a headache. Her eyes were red, and veins pulsed visibly near her temples. I had painkillers but no water, which is why I waited until we got home to give her some. I'm not good at taking care of strangers.

I have been avoiding the master bedroom since my girlfriend broke up with me,been sleeping in the guest room ever since. That room is filled with memories that haunt me. I still love her so much, and I don't think I'll ever be able to lie in that bed again without her beside me.

I miss her every single day, but I don't even know how to reach out. A grown man in his ealry thirties yet I'm already drowning in heartbreak. I drink to distract myself from the depression, but it never really goes away. I doubt I'll ever be able to love again. Every time I try to forget her, something triggers the memories, and I find myself longing for her all over again.

We were happy-at least I was happy. Now, all I have are distant echoes of what used to be. Since the breakup, I haven't dated anyone else. Not because I'm afraid of falling in love and getting hurt again-but because she was it, and if it's not her, then no one else mattered. I gave her everything-my heart, my soul, my mind.

Bringing Aria home tonight was the first time ive brought someone here. I've never brought another girl into this house since Elodie left. I wouldn't have done it under normal circumstances, but I don't even know what came over me. Maybe it was emotion. Maybe it was sympathy.

It's been a year and three months since we broke up, and I haven't touched another woman. That's how much Elodie means to me. Sure, I get lonely. But I've learned to live with it. Maybe my heart was meant for her and only her-and that's why it's so hard to move on.

As much as I want to let go, I also don't want to. For the past three years, she was my life-my everything. And the idea of forgetting her completely... It scares me.

Because if someone asked me right now whether I want to forget her, my answer would be no. Not even a tiny piece of her.