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Man Beside My Bed
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2026-03-20 12:15:33I remember the rain.
Loud. Relentless. Like it was trying to erase something. Or someone. I remember laughing. I remember headlights. Then— Nothing. --- When I wake, everything is white. White ceiling. White sheets. White noise humming from machines I don’t recognize. My head feels split open. Stitched back together wrong. There’s something in my hand. Warm. Heavy. Familiar. I turn my head. And see him. Asleep in the chair beside my bed. Suit wrinkled. Tie loosened. Dark hair disheveled. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. His hand is wrapped around mine like I might vanish if he lets go. My chest tightens. Because I don’t know him. But even in sleep— He looks at me like I’m his entire world. --- A nurse gasps. “Oh my God. Mrs. Reyes?” Mrs. Reyes. The name doesn’t fit. “I’m not married,” I whisper. The man stirs. Eyes snap open. Dark. Sharp. Relieved. “Alessa.” He says my name like it hurts. Like he’s been holding it in for years. I swallow. “I’m sorry… do I know you?” Something cracks in his face. Gone in a second. Replaced by control. “I’m your husband.” The word drops between us. Heavy. Impossible. “No.” He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t raise his voice. He studies me. Like I’m a case he intends to win. “You were in an accident,” he says calmly. “Trauma to your head. The doctors warned memory loss was possible.” Memory loss? My heart races. “No. I was driving back from dinner with Marcus.” The name slips out. Comforting. Safe. Marcus. The man I love. The man I’m engaged to. Adrian’s grip tightens. Just slightly. “Marcus De La Torre?” “Yes.” The room chills. “You haven’t been with Marcus in five years.” Five years. “That’s ridiculous.” “It’s 2026, Alessa.” My stomach drops. “No.” “Yes.” My breath stutters. “It’s 2021. We’re planning the wedding.” He leans forward. Slow. Deliberate. Like approaching something fragile. “We married in 2022.” My ears ring. “No.” His jaw tightens. “You’re my wife.” Not pleading. Not desperate. Possessive. Certain. “Show me proof.” He scrolls his phone. Hands it to me. A photo. Me. In a wedding gown. Smiling. Looking at him like he’s the only man in the world. And him— Looking at me like he’d burn the world down to keep me. My hands shake. “That’s not real.” “It is.” “No. I would remember.” His eyes darken. “You don’t remember filing for divorce either.” Divorce? “I would never—” “You did.” Silence. Thick. Suffocating. “You handed me the papers the night of the accident.” My throat closes. “Why?” He watches me. Calculating. “You said you weren’t in love with me anymore.” The words feel foreign. Impossible. I look at him. Devastating. Controlled power radiates from him. Expensive suit. Expensive watch. The kind of man who commands boardrooms. But his eyes— Bruised by something deeper than sleepless nights. “I don’t remember loving you,” I whisper. And that— That finally hurts him. It flashes across his face before he masks it. “You did,” he says softly. “You loved me enough to leave Marcus at the altar.” My breath stops. “I would never.” “You did.” My heart plummets. “No.” “You chose me.” The machine beside me beeps faster. “I want Marcus,” I say. The words taste like betrayal. But they’re the only thing that feel real. Adrian goes still. “I see.” “I need to talk to him.” “He’s in Boston.” “How do you know?” “I know everything about him.” Not jealousy. Not rage. Strategy. Like Marcus is a rival in a courtroom battle. And Adrian is already preparing his closing argument. “Call him,” I demand. Adrian studies me. Then nods once. “I will.” But his eyes— They make my skin prickle. He stands. Tall. Commanding. When he lets go of my hand, I feel it. The absence. And I hate that I feel it. “Why didn’t you sign the divorce papers?” Silence. Then— “Because I don’t give up on what’s mine.” Mine. The word sends heat crawling up my spine. “I’m not property.” His gaze darkens. “I know.” “Then why—” “Because you didn’t mean it.” “You don’t know that.” His jaw flexes. “I know you.” I look at him. This stranger. This husband. This man who could ruin lives with a phone call. “You don’t know me.” His control slips. Just a fraction. “I knew you,” he corrects quietly. “Before you forgot.” He walks out. Leaving me staring at the wedding photo. At the way I looked at him. Like I loved him. Like I trusted him. Like I belonged to him. But I don’t remember. And if I don’t remember… Did it even happen? --- Later that night, the room is dark. I stare at the ring on my finger. Heavy. Platinum. Diamond. I don’t remember him putting it there. I don’t remember saying yes. I don’t remember loving him. But when I try to take it off— It doesn’t move. And for some reason… I start to cry. ——— Outside my hospital door, I don’t hear Adrian speaking to the doctor. But I do hear him say one thing. Low. Controlled. Terrifyingly calm. “She may not remember me… but she’s still my wife. And I’m not losing her again.”
บทล่าสุด
UNTIL YOU REMEMBER ME The Man Who Stayed
The rain hasn’t stopped since afternoon.It drums against the tall windows of the Reyes penthouse, turning the city outside into a blur of gray lights and restless shadows. The sound is relentless, like the city itself is reminding me that storms don’t end just because you want them to.I stand near the window with my arms wrapped around myself. My phone screen glows faintly in my hand.The message.The video.The humiliation.Marcus Dela Torre and I.In a parking garage.Too close.Too intimate.Too convincing.Anyone watching it would believe the same thing. That I betrayed Adrian Reyes.My stomach twists.I should leave.That thought has been circling my mind for the last hour. Leave before Adrian sees it. Leave before he looks at me with disappointment. Leave before he confirms what everyone already believes.The elevator door opens behind me.My breath stops.Adrian has arrived.I don’t turn around. I can hear his footsteps crossing the marble floor. Slow. Measured. Calm. Always
UNTIL YOU REMEMBER ME An Offer of Alignment
The words refuse to settle.The call came from inside Reyes Holdings.I stare at Adrian’s phone as if the message might change if I look long enough. But it doesn’t. The investigation team’s report remains on the screen.Call origin traced to internal Reyes Holdings routing hub.My pulse beats harder.“That’s impossible,” I say quietly.Adrian doesn’t respond immediately. “Is it?” he asks.I look up sharply. “You think someone inside your company tried to run me off the road?”“I think someone inside the building used our network.”“That’s not the same thing.”“No.”“But it narrows the field.”The room feels colder suddenly.“How narrow?” I ask.Adrian picks up the phone again. “Daniel’s team is tracing which internal access point routed the call.”“How many people have access to those systems?”“Hundreds.”“That’s not narrow.”“It will be.”“How?”“Security badge logs.”The realization creeps slowly into place.“You’re checking who was in the building that night.”“Yes.”“And compari
UNTIL YOU REMEMBER ME Lines Of Loyalty
The words sit between us like a crack in glass.The driver works for your father.For a moment, I’m not sure I heard Adrian correctly. The penthouse office feels suddenly smaller, the air tighter, the silence louder.“My father,” I repeat slowly.“Yes.”Adrian’s voice remains calm, but there’s something measured in it now. Careful. Controlled.I walk slowly toward the desk. “Who exactly?”He turns the phone toward me. A name fills the screen.Rafael MendozaExecutive Security – Valez Urban DevelopmentMy stomach tightens.“That’s… not possible.”“You recognize him?”“I’ve seen him before.”“Where?”“At my father’s corporate events.”The memory is faint but clear enough: tall, quiet, always standing near the exits with an earpiece. Security. Not an executive. Security.“That doesn’t mean he was acting under orders,” Adrian says.“I know.”But the possibility presses heavily against my ribs.“What does he do exactly?” I ask.“Head of executive transport security.”“So he manages company
UNTIL YOU REMEMBER ME The Space Between Us
Sleep refuses to come.The city is quieter tonight, but my mind refuses to follow its rhythm. Every time I close my eyes, I see the same thing:Headlights.Rain on the windshield.A dark SUV closing the distance behind my car.And then—Nothing.A missing moment. A piece of time someone erased.I exhale slowly and sit up in bed. The digital clock beside the nightstand glows 2:13 AM.Across the penthouse, a faint strip of light spills from beneath Adrian’s office door.Of course he’s awake.I slip out of bed and pull on a soft sweater before walking quietly through the living area. The penthouse feels different at night—less like a luxurious space and more like a quiet observatory suspended above the city.Adrian’s office door is half open.Inside, he sits behind his desk, sleeves rolled to his forearms, a tablet glowing in front of him. Several printed documents are spread across the dark wood surface. Investigation reports.He looks up the moment he hears me.“You should be asleep,”
UNTIL YOU REMEMBER ME Pressure Points
By the time we leave the boardroom floor, the building already feels different.Tighter.Charged.Word travels fast inside Reyes Holdings, and nothing travels faster than fear. Directors who avoided looking at me earlier now glance quickly when I pass, their curiosity barely concealed.My accident.The footage.The possibility that someone tried to force my car off the road.Rumors spread like electricity through glass hallways.Adrian walks beside me, calm as ever, his stride measured and unhurried. If he feels the shift in atmosphere, he doesn’t show it. But I know him a little better now. Enough to recognize the signs. He’s already planning three moves ahead.---The InvestigationHis office is larger than I expected.Minimalist. Dark wood, steel accents, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Hudson. The room feels less like an office and more like a command center.Adrian closes the door behind us. Then he picks up his phone.“Daniel,” he says calmly.A pause.“Yes. I want the
UNTIL YOU REMEMBER ME The Aftermath
The boardroom empties slowly.One chair scrapes against the marble floor. Another director gathers his tablet with deliberate calm, as though the room has not just watched a video suggesting my accident might have been deliberate.No one looks directly at me.Not out of respect.Out of calculation.Board members file out in quiet clusters, murmuring low enough that their words dissolve into the hum of the air-conditioning system. Their footsteps echo along the glass corridor outside, fading one by one until the heavy doors swing shut.Silence finally settles.Only Adrian and I remain.The city spreads behind him through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Manhattan glowing under the late afternoon sun. Traffic moves in slow silver lines below. From this height everything looks controlled. Ordered. Predictable.Nothing like the chaos inside my mind.Adrian stands at the head of the table, one hand resting against the polished obsidian surface, the other in his pocket. His posture is composed
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