LOGINThe Mortal
“Who are you?” The deep, dark, menacing voice still haunts me. I couldn’t answer him; the nurses stormed the room. They checked him, and Mom came in the morning. All I could do was stare at him and listen to the doctors. That night was different. I knew it, but how do I say it? The shadow I saw over Edward climbed up to his skin, into his veins… red eyes looming in the shadows.
I woke up in the middle of the night, gasping. The red eyes burned in my brain. What the hell was it? I touched my sweat-damp neck, and my stomach clenched with unease as I looked around my silent room. This room I never used.
After Edward and my mother married, they moved to his old family mansion. It was two hundred years old, with sixty rooms. I never understood what my mother and Edward did here. I never asked, but when they moved, they set aside a room for me. I never stayed for more than a day or two. It was like a guest room for me.
I know they were trying to make me part of the family, but Edward never felt like family, more like a friend who was sometimes pleasant to spend time with. Why is he plaguing my mind now? I clutched my hand over my racing heart, closed my eyes, and slumped back onto the pillow. Looking at the ceiling, a certain homesickness took me over—a raw feeling of going somewhere where nothing mattered but curling into the comforts of the childhood blankets my mother made for me when I was ten, but all of that disappeared a long time ago. I don’t know where my old things are after my mother sold the house I grew up in.
This old mansion won’t do anything for me. There was just a feeling of foreign air pressing at the back of my neck. I looked at the engagement ring on my finger; once again, it struck me that the diamond’s shine dimmed in the light. David. Yes, I should call him. I picked up my phone from the nightstand. I didn’t tell him that Edward woke up or about his condition. I might have to stay here.
A few rings went by, and he didn’t pick up. When I looked at the notification bar, the time showed 3:45 a.m. He must be sleeping. I sighed and resolved to call him in the morning. I put back the phone and turned again, facing the door, tracing the old antique curved design of roses and lilies carved into the now age-old wood. Under the dim light of the lamp, my eyes fell on my right wrist, the fingerprints still glaring back at me. I rubbed my neck under the collar of my nightshirt, trying to drive off the sudden heat. I turned off the lamp but was unable to think of anything else, unable to close my eyes.
When I fell asleep, I don’t know, but I woke up with an ache in my neck that told me my sleep had been restless. The pit of my stomach churned with unease as I thought of leaving for the hospital so Mom could come and take some rest. At least Edward was awake; she didn’t need to exhaust herself.
Back in the hospital, I found Mom outside the private room they moved Edward into. Her shoulders were slumped, and her lips trembled as she pressed tissues under her eyes. My heart squeezed in my chest.
“Mom,” I said quietly, touching her shoulder, and she furiously wiped away her tears.
“You are here.” She tried to smile, but her voice was hoarse. I sat beside her, pressing my lips, trying to put on a reassuring expression but not looking at her with pity. My mom was a strong woman after Dad. She took care of me all alone, to the best of her ability, and she never let her emotions get the better of her. When she wanted to drown in her grief, she always held on for me. Now, I wanted to be there for her, but I didn’t know how.
I rubbed her shoulder soothingly.
“I am fine,” she said, but her voice trembled, and her clear blue eyes looked a little watery.
“Mom, I am sure he will recover soon.”
She took a deep breath and covered her mouth, trying her best to compose herself.
“Doctors say—” She swallowed. Seeing her distress, I wondered if she cried like this when Dad died, but I don’t remember much of it. I was only eight. The only thing I remember is a distant sadness that never goes away from my heart, a shadow I would keep with me forever. I shook myself from the thought. After Dad, she only gave Edward a chance, and he made her so happy. “They took every test.” She shook her head and squeezed her eyes, trying to hold back her tears. “They say everything is fine. They don’t know why he has the amnesia. They don’t know when or if he will recover his memory.”
I looked down at my hands and couldn't think of anything to say.
“He looks at me like a stranger, not even a flicker of recognition. He has no idea who he is. He has this blank stare when he looks at me, I—” Her voice cracked, and I pulled her into a hug.
“It is fine. He went through a trauma. He loves you, and even if he doesn’t remember, he will fall in love with you again.” I rubbed her back. A quiet sob left her. “I am here. We will take care of him,” I said. There is nothing I can offer except my presence and empty words. I blinked the sting behind my eyes and held her.
—---
When I entered Edward’s hospital room, his eyes snapped to me, and I froze, arrested in his gaze. He didn’t remember me, and his stoic expression didn’t give any idea what he was thinking. Only the corner of his eyes twitched a little. Is it just me, or was the angle of his jaw sharper than before? His eyes narrowed a little, and my heart pounded. I tried to step back.
I don’t understand the urge to run away I get whenever I am in his proximity, but I pushed myself forward. Trying to calm my racing heart, I looked away from him and twisted my fingers in my hand.
“Mom went back to the mansion… to rest,” I said, clearing my throat, and blood rushed to my cheeks when I noticed he hadn’t looked away.
“Hm.”
That's it. I looked up at him as he put the book aside. He looked at me again.
“And you are?” he asked. Damn. That stings. Even though Edward and I were not close, not being recognized by someone I had known for the better part of a decade felt wrong.
“I am Mira,” I said. “Caroline’s daughter.”
“Mira.”
I swallowed the sound that threatened to escape me as I heard my name in the slow, deep, deliberate voice. He didn’t sound like that before, did he? I moved my hands behind my back and hesitated to meet his eyes, but I looked at him anyway. He was not blinking when he stared at me. I felt robbed of breath as I fought to maintain eye contact. The room seemed small, but all the machinery and equipment were gone except the single IV drip.
Edward looked otherwise relaxed in a foreign environment where he didn’t even remember anything. My eyes fell to his collarbone, which seemed sculpted, peeking out of the hospital shirt he wore.
“Is there something you need?” My voice was more breathless than I anticipated. He broke eye contact, and my knees almost gave out in relief. What the hell?!
“No. You may leave.” He picked up his book again in cold dismissal.
I looked at him, bewildered. He sounded like some kind of king or lord.
“I am here until Mom comes back,” I shot back, a little irritated. I finally managed to unfreeze myself and went to the couch in the corner for visitors.
I checked my emails on my phone. When David’s call came, I picked up and quickly went outside. I had told him that I might have to stay here, but David hadn’t replied properly.
“How are things there?” His voice sounded worried.
“Same. The doctors say there is a possibility he won’t remember anything. They can’t say what’s wrong exactly. Mom is devastated. I can’t see her like that.”
“Yes. Tell her to hang in there.”
“I will. I really think I should stay here.”
“So, how long do you think you have to stay there?” David said, his voice a little strained.
“As long as she needs me, for as long as I can.” I looked through the parted door. Edward was reading a book. He looked thinner than I remembered, paler than yesterday, but it was not sickly pale. He picked up a glass of water from the side table; his muscles flexed as he moved. He was wearing a half-sleeve white shirt. He might have changed out of his hospital gown into clothes Mom brought for him. He looked healthier than before the accident, but then I hadn’t met him for so long. How could I be sure?
“Well, a week or two? How much time do you think?” David pressed, pulling me out of my thoughts. Why was I getting caught looking at my stepfather? I pushed it out of my thoughts, shaking off the odd sensation I got looking at him.
“I don’t know yet. My work is remote, so that is not going to be a problem, and I will see as soon as I can.”
“Mira, we just got engaged. I wanted to spend some time together.”
Regret filled me as I thought what to say to that. I was looking forward to it too.
“I know, but Mom is alone here. There is no one from Edward’s family. I can’t leave her.”
“I mean, can’t she hire a caretaker for him or something? You don’t have to stay long.”
“David,” I said patiently.
“They are rich, definitely can afford it.”
“This is not about logistics,” I said, this time unable to soften my voice. “Mom needs support. This is not a normal circumstance. Edward doesn’t remember anything. She would feel estranged. I need to make sure they settle before I leave her alone.”
“Mira, I miss you.”
“I know. I miss you too.”
“Do you?” David sounded accusing.
“What are you saying? I am trying to make the situation better…”
“I thought we would… I just feel like this time should be for us,” he said. “He is not your real father, and you were out of that house before Caroline married him.”
“You don’t understand. It’s not for him, it’s for my mother!” I snapped as quietly as possible, remembering I was in a hospital.
“Think about what I am saying,” he said, completely ignoring me.
“It’s a few hours’ drive, David. If something urgent comes up, we will figure it out,” I said calmly, trying my best not to sound annoyed. I shut off the phone, closing my eyes, trying to keep the anger at bay.
After I calmed down, I walked into the room and sat on the couch with a silent huff.
“Is he your lover or betrothed?”
I looked up at him, a little startled. He heard all of that? I suppressed my embarrassment, concentrating on what he asked. I blinked a few times at him, wondering—did he really say betrothed and lover?
He raised his eyebrow in a perfect arch when I didn’t answer. It is a miracle how he managed to move one feature of his face while the rest stayed the same, expressionless.
“Yes, I am engaged.”
“Who is he?”
I suppose he is trying to piece back together his life before the accident. It must have been awkward with Mom. Did he ask her any questions? Mom said he was really silent all this time.
“David. We met at the university.” A little smile came to my lips as I remembered it, and something in his gaze flickered, but it was gone behind a careful mask as soon as I could read it. “He just recently asked me to marry him.”
“Has he taken you?”
“Excuse me?”
He fell to the ground with a thud. My mind went blank. I breathed heavily, trying to find a way to gather my thoughts. He…fainted. He was bleeding from the nose. Had I hit him so hard? Panicked, I crouched down beside him, brushing away his dark hair. His breathing was shallow and he appeared paler than before. I shot up and opened my mouth to yell for help, but my words died in my throat as a cold hand wrapped around my ankle. I looked down; he coughed and his eyes opened a little.“Don’t.” He sounded weak, but his hold tightened around my ankle. Goosebumps rose over my skin.“We should call for a doctor,” I said, stepping back and crouching down beside him, unwrapping his hand from my ankle. He took a deep breath.“No healer of your kind can help me,” he said, every word seeming to be a struggle. I opened my mouth and closed it. My hands hovered over his chest.“What do you mean?” I couldn’t help but touch his face. He was so cold; this wasn't normal. “Look, I don’t know what is goi
Dr. Parashar’s death just before our appointment... It doesn’t feel right—“Mira,” Mom called, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts.“Can you go and check on Edward, please?” she asked. “Just to see if he is okay." I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”“Yes, Mom,” came my automatic response. But as I moved up the stairs, with every step I wanted to go the opposite way. I couldn’t bear to be in the same room as him, or even near him. Edward had moved out of the room he shared with Mother the moment we returned. Mom is trying to look composed and unbothered, but I can’t even begin to imagine what it feels like for her. Nine years of marriage, and now Edward is a stranger.I went to the first floor and stood outside the guest room door. I was ready to knock, but then I pulled my hand back. Remembering the past few days, would this be the same? Right now, outside the door, every interaction between us seems like a long-lost dream. What would he be like now?I finally gathered enough
I watched the nursing staff settle Edward into his wheelchair.“They said mobility will take time. I’ve already scheduled a physiotherapist,” Mom said.I nodded. Did I imagine the last two days? I wondered. I wondered about the last two days—the nights, the mornings, and his threat. Whenever I look at him, I see only the deep void in his eyes. I remember falling asleep outside and waking up inside, not knowing how I got there. Before that, he grabbed my neck. I could almost feel his touch, his voice, and his lips brushing against my skin.And now, in a wheelchair, he looks pale and vulnerable, not at all how he felt a day ago. Maybe this is a medical issue. I looked at Mom; even if I told her, she wouldn’t believe me.There is only one way to know.I followed as my mother took over the wheelchair, clutching the little duffel bag. They handed Edward a copy to sign. He took the pen, looked at it, and rotated it a little around his fingers as if he had never seen it before.The way he ti
The Mortal“What are you saying?” I frowned.I felt like a rug was pulled out from under my feet. The corner of his lips twitched—curving into a smirk so slight it didn’t touch the rest of his expression, but his eyes gleamed, making my stomach twist in icy knots. He sat up straighter lazily. I stepped back under the weight of his gaze.I could see in his eyes he didn’t care, but I steeled myself. “I know you might be confused,” but even as I said it, it was very naive. A hopeless attempt to avoid what I was seeing.“I am not confused, little bird.” He looked me straight in the eyes as he said it, and then his gaze dropped to my chest, then back up to my eyes.That nickname made blood rush to my neck.I tried my best to keep my face neutral, but my heartbeat turned loud in my ears.“Look,” I cleared my throat to suppress my obvious nervousness. “All I am saying—and I know it can be hard…” I tried again. “Mom cares about you a lot.” I turned my voice kinder, while a forbidding feeling
The Mortal“What are you doing?” I can’t put out the quiver in my voice. My heart was already beating too fast for it to be healthy. Only in the lamplight did his looming figure look taller than I remember, and his eyes were dark as coal. I swallowed. I felt someone touching me before I woke up—the thought made me shiver.“Edward,”His dark gaze looked ravenous. My breath hitched.“Hm.” He stepped forward, and I shrank back on the couch. He swayed. I straightened as his eyes blinked and turned hooded. My hands stretched out without thinking, and he fell. An involuntary gasp left me when I felt the press and weight of his whole body on me. He stirred, and his lips brushed the side of my neck. My breath hitched. My arms stretched out, unsure what to do.“Edward!”The only answer I received was his hot breath brushing against my skin, and it suddenly felt oversensitive. After snapping myself out of the shock, unable to wrap my mind around the fact that he had fainted—but it seemed to be
I don’t think I heard it right.“Has he taken you?” he asked, unblinking, his expression getting darker. My heart leaped out of my chest under the intensity of his gaze. “Has he taken you to his bed? Made love to you?”I looked at him with my mouth agape. I can’t believe this. How can he ask this, like this? He sounded awfully polite and rude at the same time.“What makes you think you can ask me that?” I felt the heat travel up to my neck, affronted. I clenched my teeth. What happened? Did he forget manners as he forgot his name? I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them, meeting his eyes.“So he hasn’t…” he said as his eyes fell from mine to my face, tracing the length of my body, and an unexpected shot of thrill passed through me. I felt like he was touching me with his eyes alone. I felt my blood boil, half in anger and half in something I would rather not name.A thought in the back of my mind said, ‘David never looked at you like that.’“You are my mother’s husband,”







