Episode 15 I Think We Were Lovers (6)
Agathe opened her mouth slowly, choosing her words. She felt Damian’s feelings reaching her clearly.
Someone as honorable as Damian wouldn’t have any reason to lie. Besides, he was tall and handsome — the kind of man women liked. And he said she’d helped him when he was at his lowest.
A man like that, saying he’d ask her out after his last mission… she couldn’t refuse just because she didn’t remember.
A soldier who looked like one of Damian’s comrades waved at the military truck. That meant Damian had to leave soon.
Agathe spoke quietly.
“I might still not remember by then. If that’s okay with you, please still ask me out.”
“Of course. Even if Nurse Natalie still has no memory then, I don’t mind.”
“And one more thing — please call me ‘Agathe,’ not ‘Natalie.’”
“Agathe?”
“Yes. The name I remember isn’t Natalie; it’s Agathe.”
“That’s a beautiful name, Miss Agathe.”
Damian smiled and took in her flushed face. Once he finished his mission, he could ask her properly.
“Stay safe until we meet again.”
“You too, Lieutenant. Come back healthy.”
“Yes, I will.”
Damian climbed into the truck and left.
Agathe watched him go, waving back at the man who’d left such a strong impression. The truck disappeared down the sunlit forest road. She clasped her hands and breathed slowly.
He seems like a good person. Dependable, like someone faithful.
Even if she didn’t remember, Agathe had a feeling: before she lost her memory, Nurse Natalie must have liked Damian. But because it was wartime and she had duties as a field hospital nurse, she probably turned him down then.
Lost in thought, Agathe turned toward the hospital entrance. She opened the ward door and met Ashley leaning against the window wall.
She flinched without meaning to, then forced a smile.
“Did you see him off, Lieutenant?”
“Yes.”
Agathe kept her head down and answered in a small voice. She’d only accompanied the lieutenant to the truck, but Ashley’s cold glance hit her like a chill.
Then she brightened when she noticed the fresh flowers. She brought the bouquet up and took deep breaths of the scent.
“Do you like them?”
“Huh?” Agathe lifted her head at his low, even voice. Ashley nodded toward the small ‘water-drop’ flowers in her hand.
“You probably like them because it’s the first time you’ve received flowers.”
She tilted her head — how could he know it was her first bouquet when she had no memory? Before she could blink, his low voice continued.
“First time? So you care about things like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you said you liked them because it’s your first time receiving flowers.”
His eyes were sharp as broken glass, and the energy he gave off made the back of her neck prickle. Agathe apologized awkwardly.
“Sorry.”
Ashley raised one eyebrow at the out-of-nowhere apology and stared at her like he was trying to read her. His gaze tightened around her.
“You asked if I and you were lovers. You embarrassed me without even knowing you’d misread things.”
“Did the lieutenant say that? That we aren’t lovers?”
“He didn’t say it, but—”
Agathe tried to explain, but Ashley’s mocking voice sliced into her chest.
“If it wasn’t the lieutenant who said that, does that mean your memory has come back?”
“I—I didn’t mean—”
“Your memory hasn’t come back, Agathe.”
Ashley spoke with certainty and stepped forward.
In two strides, he was right in front of her and suddenly reached out. The water-drop flowers in Agathe’s hands were now in his grip.
“Lieutenant?” she blurted.
“What will you do when your memory returns?” Ashley asked, gripping her chin to make her look at him.
“Lieutenant?”
“If the lieutenant said he would come back and asked you to accept him, would you?”
“I—”
He accused her as if she were at fault for being docile without memory. Agathe felt embarrassed and wronged. She couldn’t tell why he acted so upset.
“That’s none of your business, is it? The lieutenant and I aren’t anything!” Agathe pushed his arm hard. Breathing fast, brows raised, she glared at Ashley.
It was the same look she used to give him before she lost her memory. Maybe a little different, but now Ashley seemed to finally understand why he’d been staying by her bedside. His hesitation felt pointless — he knew his role clearly now.
“Miss Agathe and I had something special.”
“N-no, that can’t be.”
“Don’t be so sure just because you don’t remember.”
Ashley fixed his gaze and stepped forward. Agathe backed up, but after a few steps her back hit the bed.
She realized she had no real reason to be afraid — she still didn’t have her memories. She might think she and Ashley weren’t a thing, but that was only her guess. Damian felt familiar, but she didn’t have clear memories. The man in front of her had been with her the most recently and knew things she didn’t remember. So what he said was the closest thing to the truth.
Leaning against the bed, Agathe stared at him without fear and said,
“Can you tell me what you meant by ‘something special’?”
“Try to remember yourself, Agathe.”
“I want to, but—”
Again, he refused to tell her plainly. No one wanted to try harder to remember than she did. Was he hiding something? If they had been lovers or if there had been something private between them, she had to remember on her own, like he insisted.
He looked her over like he was examining a precious thing. Meeting his blue eyes, Agathe felt warmth spread through her body.
“Can I hold your hand?” she asked nervously, and—boldly—offered her small white hand to him. Ashley looked down at her hand, then gripped it tightly.
His big palm fit hers completely. His hand was too hot. If she kept holding it, she thought his heat might transfer to her, so she pulled her hand back quickly.
“How was it?” he asked.
“Huh?”
“No woman has ever held my hand this long. How did it feel?”
“I don’t really know.”
“I see.”
He spoke plainly without sounding hurt, but his blue eyes seemed full of things he wanted to say. Their gazes crossed and tangled in the air.
He breathed out gently and ran his large hand over her head, smoothing her hair.
“I’ll help you.”
“With what?” Agathe blinked. He gave a small laugh, as if her question were cute.
“I’ll help you find your memories.”
“Can’t you just tell me?” she asked.
“You must find them yourself. They’re your memories, Agathe.”
Again, he was firm. It stung, but she couldn’t just demand answers.
If he wouldn’t tell her, she could ask Eliana or the other nurses. Maybe they would give closer-to-true answers. If they’d had a secret relationship, then, like he said, she’d have to remember it on her own.
“Starting today, I’ll sleep at my quarters,” she said.
“If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you.” He did not argue; he surprisingly allowed it easily. Maybe he’d been disappointed in her for staying in the ward so long.
But from now on, she should live at her quarters and not rely on him.
As if he already knew her thoughts, he added,
“You’re still a patient. Just because you leave the ward doesn’t mean you’re recovered. Be careful.”
“Yes, I understand.”
Ashley nodded with a satisfied smile.
Agathe left the ward. He walked politely beside her down the corridor.
They stopped at a certain quarter. He opened the door for her and looked back.
“This is it.”
“This is my room?”
“Yes. Come back anytime if you change your mind.”
He spoke like he knew the place well. Agathe felt another wave in her chest. He bowed his head slowly.
“Good night.”
His lips touched her forehead briefly. It was just the forehead, but it made a wave of feeling roll through her like surf over white sand. When the wave receded, two clear letters seemed etched onto that sand:
‘Lover.’
He must have been her beloved — her lover. She could no longer pretend the feeling her heart gave her wasn’t true.
