Chapter 8

Over the next few days, Yara stayed in a dark room at the villa, barely aware of what went on around her.

Even the milk Simon brought her every night no longer helped.

She lay awake until dawn.

On the rare nights she managed to sleep, she struggled through nightmares.

"I'm sorry... I was wrong..."

"Don't touch me! Don't hit me... Please..."

The words slipped out in her sleep, her voice full of fear.

Whenever it happened, Simon stiffened beside her.

Then he pulled her tightly into his arms and murmured over and over, "It's all right, Yara. It's all right. I'm here..."

He seemed to be comforting himself as much as her.

Only when her breathing steadied did he carefully get up, go out onto the balcony, and make a call in a low voice.

"Cindy, I won't be coming over for a while. Yara's in a bad state..."

"Don't make a fuss. Please listen to me."

Yara pretended to be asleep and heard every word.

Eventually, Simon seemed unable to bear how lifeless she had become, so he started taking her out.

"You can't stay shut in all the time. Some sunlight will do you good."

He tried to sound cheerful.

Yara let him take her wherever he wanted, but her voice was so faint it almost disappeared.

"I'll only get better once I forget everything."

Those words always filled Simon with unease. He couldn't bear how distant she seemed, as though she might vanish at any moment.

He even brought her to his office, where he could keep an eye on her all day.

Yara sat quietly on the sofa by his office window.

Every so often, she glanced at her watch, as though she were counting down the hours.

One afternoon, the stifling silence seemed too much for him.

He almost fled the office to get some air.

"I have a meeting downstairs."

Not long after he left, the door opened.

Cindy walked in, her belly prominent and a mocking smile on her face.

"Even now, he still keeps you by his side?"

She moved closer and lowered her voice. "Let me tell you something. As long as you refuse to leave, I won't leave you alone."

Yara slowly turned her head and looked straight at her.

Cindy grew uncomfortable under her stare, but her pregnancy gave her confidence.

She stepped closer and said smugly, "I planned all three of your miscarriages myself, and Simon still dotes on me. What does that make you?"

Yara sprang to her feet and shoved her hard.

Cindy stumbled to the edge of the desk.

Before she could recover, Yara grabbed an ashtray and swung it at her.

It struck with a dull thud.

"Ah! Help! This lunatic's trying to kill me!" Cindy screamed, clutching her bleeding forehead.

Simon and his assistant heard the commotion and rushed in.

The scene seemed obvious: Cindy huddled in a corner, crying, while Yara stood over her with the ashtray in her hand, breathing hard.

Cindy threw herself at Simon and sobbed, "Simon! I only came in to pour her a glass of water. She suddenly went crazy!"

Everyone expected Simon to fly into a rage, as he had whenever Cindy was hurt before.

This time, he didn't blame Yara.

He hurried to her, his expression troubled.

"Yara, what happened? Did something upset you?"

"Simon, what do you mean?" Cindy shrieked in disbelief.

"Are you saying this is my fault? Fine! I never should have swallowed my pride all these years..."

"Enough!" Simon cut her off sharply and gave her a warning look.

Cindy froze.

He told his assistant to take Cindy to have her wound dressed.

Then he softened his voice as he spoke to Yara.

"Let's go home. I know you don't like her. I'll transfer her to a branch office in a couple of days, all right?"

They hadn't been home long when Simon's phone began ringing insistently.

He answered with a weary look, but his expression soon changed. "She's going to jump? Keep her calm! I'll be right there!"

He hung up and told Yara, "There's an emergency. Be good and wait for me at home."

Yara gave him no answer.

The sight of her unmoving face brought back his unease.

But after another glance at his phone, he turned and left.

He didn't come home that night.

Yara sat quietly in the dark.

At midnight, a text arrived on her phone.

[Preparations for your memory erasure are complete. You may come in whenever you're ready.]

She looked at the screen and finally gave the faintest smile.

She found the fake marriage certificate and placed it in the center of the bedside table.

Then she took off the wedding ring she had worn for seven years and set it on top of the certificate.

She even wrote a note.

Only then did she leave the villa without a sound.

At the airport, she threw away her old phone.

The plane took off and climbed through the clouds.

Yara told herself that she had given them both a chance to start over.

From then on, Simon Quinn would have no place in her memories.