LOGINZane sat across from me, his hands resting on his knees, perfectly still. He had probably imagined many different ways our reunion might go.I would cry. I would curse him. I would lunge at him and hit him.But he had not expected me to be this calm, calmly placing the deepest wound back in front of him.His Adam's apple bobbed for a long time before he finally managed to say, "I'm sorry."I looked at him, my voice barely above a whisper. "Do you know how many times I kept screaming that I was in pain?"His eyes reddened instantly. "I know.""And you still held me down."His lips moved, but not a single word came out. Because that was the truth.I did not ask anything else, and I did not cry again. Because by then, I no longer needed to hear any excuses from him.My best friend had been the knife. My parents had been the ones pushing from behind. And he was the one who had seen me crying and still chosen to let go.After that meeting, I asked to move out of the place my paren
From that day on, I started having nightmares more often. They were always filled with scattered fragments.I would wake just as the fear became unbearable.By the time I woke, I would be drenched in sweat, my fingers trembling.The doctor said it meant my memories were starting to come back. It was a good sign, but it was also the most painful part of the process.Little by little, I began to remember.When one memory finally came back to me, I froze.Later, when the therapist casually mentioned Zane's name, the cup in my hand slipped and crashed to the floor.I stumbled backward, my breathing turning ragged. I could only repeat one thing. "Don't give me a shot. Don't…"Everyone's face went pale. Because by then, they finally understood. Even though I could not remember anything, my body had remembered first that he meant pain.Meanwhile, Sophia's case had also reached a verdict.The hospital where I had undergone the premarital exam and the private hospital were ordered to
When I said I did not want to go back to my old home, the room fell silent.The doctor said it was a response left behind by the trauma. Even if my memories had not returned, my body knew that place was unsafe.In the end, they decided to find me a new place to live. The house that had once been meant to be our marital home was sold.I heard my father had insisted on selling it. He said he was too ashamed to let me live there again.The money from the sale, along with whatever savings they could spare, was used to buy me a small apartment. The deed was in my name alone.It was the first time they had truly given something back to me. But I did not feel much. Because I knew it was too late.The weather was beautiful the day I was discharged.Standing outside the hospital in a light-colored jacket, clutching my stuffed animal, I stared up at the sky for a long time.I was like someone learning to walk all over again, finding her place in the world.When we arrived at my new apar
The doctor said my memories were slowly beginning to loosen. If I continued with stable treatment, they might gradually come back.To help me recover, they started showing me things from my past.I would pick something up and look at it, then ask, "Is this mine?" However, most of the time, I would only glance at it before putting it down again.Whenever my mother watched me like that, a spark of hope would light up in her eyes, only to fade moments later.She probably wanted to find some trace of the old me in my face, but I had nothing to give her.Later, my therapist played me a recording. It was the sound of a little bird mimicking words, chirping my nickname over and over.At first, I simply sat there and listened quietly. As I listened, tears suddenly began to fall.I did not even know why I was crying. I only knew my chest hurt, as if I had lost something terribly important.My mother saw it from outside the room and burst into tears. She finally understood that some
When I was discharged from the private hospital, I had grown frighteningly thin.My hair had been cut shorter, and I looked listless. The hospital gown hung loosely from my frame.While the nurse packed my things, I sat on the edge of the bed, clutching my stuffed animal, with no idea where I was going.My parents stood by the door.My mother's eyes were swollen from crying. Several times, she started toward me, wanting to hug me, but she could not bring herself to do it.Every time she took a step forward, I shrank back a little farther.In the end, she could only stand there, covering her mouth as tears streamed down her face.My father looked as if he had aged years overnight. Even his shoulders seemed to have sagged.Zane stood the farthest away.He did not dare come near me. Not because he had suddenly learned to respect boundaries, but because I was afraid of him.The doctor said I needed to be transferred to a proper hospital for a full evaluation and rehabilitation.
Zane finally understood that none of this had ever been "for my own good."There was nothing wrong with me that prevented me from having children. There had been no reason for them to put me through all this.From beginning to end, I was never the one at fault.And they had personally driven the most innocent person of all into madness, until she no longer even remembered who she was.…When he rushed into my hospital room that day, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a stuffed animal and eating cookies.I looked up at him. He seemed vaguely familiar, but he frightened me.He stood there, his eyes instantly turning red, his voice trembling badly. "Remi…"I shrank back and turned to the nurse. "Why does that man keep coming here?"That one sentence completely broke him.When my parents rushed to the hospital, their faces were whiter than a sheet.My mother stood in the doorway of my room. She opened her mouth, but for a long time, she could not bring herself to say







