Novelas y relatos de Before I Forgot His Name

Iris stood at the end, wearing the dress she wore the day my memory was erased. “ Do you remember me now?.” she asked stretching her hand for me, I stepped forward one foot in fire and the other in bloom, I ran to her holding her hand the moment I got to her. Through time, through pain, every door that gave been close in my memory. Faces I had erased, voices I had silence. My father, my mother and my son. And then I noticed a door I had never see before, I opened it and behind the door was Wren, he smiled and said “ still think this is your mind Callum?”

Naomi didn’t know how to respond. She wasn’t even sure what exactly she’d forgotten. The people who mattered—she remembered them just fine. Her parents. Atlas. Her older brother. Was there anyone else she’d forgotten? She genuinely couldn’t recall. “Daddy, I don’t know… I remember my brother, you and Mom, and Atty. Isn’t that enough? Everyone else doesn’t really matter anyway.” Maldric almost blurted out, ‘What about Kael Rhodes?’

After five years in captivity, I finally came home. Except there was already another daughter in my place, and somehow, Mom, Dad, and my brother, Samuel Lewis, had all developed strange "conditions." When I broke my ankle and texted Dad for help, he took forever to show up. "Sorry. My eyesight's been acting up lately. I couldn't make out the location you sent me." I was allergic to seafood, but Samuel brought me seafood chowder anyway. "Sorry. You know how bad my memory is. I forgot you couldn't eat it." One winter night, I came home without my keys and spent five hours locked outside before Mom finally opened the door in the middle of the night. "My hearing problems flared up again.

My social psychology professor gave us a simple assignment: text the words I love you to the family member we were closest to, then record their first reaction. My parents had died seven years earlier in an ambush meant for the DeLuca family. With no one else to text, I sent the message to Roman DeLuca—the youngest Don in New York’s underworld and the man the court had once appointed as my temporary guardian. The typing bubble appeared and disappeared all night. At two in the morning, his answer finally came. [Mara, don’t confuse dependence with love. Whatever exists between us can never cross that line.] The next day, he stripped away every privilege he had ever given me, disconnected our p

He nodded frantically, as though agreeing with himself would make me believe him. "What is his name? Is he one of us?" "No, no." He shook his head. "He's..." His voice broke while he looked like he was really trying to remember. "He's... I have forgotten his name. But he's from here. His name is Jason... no." He shook his head. "Matthew? Martin? I swear, boss, I'm not hiding anything. I just don't remember." He cried again, as if he knew that just cost him dearly. Which it did. But then a man from here. Could it be...

"You didn't forget." "Of course not," he smiled. Across the room, Soren watched quietly. He said nothing, as he always did. But something had begun to change. It became clearer after a brief conversation with Bruno one day. "Funny," Bruno said casually. Soren glanced at him. "What is?" "I don't remember your father bringing home gifts when you were younger." Soren frowned slightly. "He was busy." "I'm sure he was," Bruno replied, his tone light. "Maybe he's just trying to make up for what Lana lost."

But I didn't remember him ever mentioning his name. Maybe he had, and I had simply forgotten. I had had too much on my mind lately, and I had never been known for having a good memory. He tilted his head again, an apologetic smile spreading across his face. "Wait, I didn't tell you?" Taking my hand, he added, "I must have completely forgotten to mention it. I'm sorry. You'll forgive me, right? "I came in because I'd been waiting outside for you for a while, and you never showed, so..."

He was tall and lean with tired blue eyes and dark hair that made him look older than his age. He stood in front of us with a clipboard in his hand. My pulse picked up when he started asking for names. One by one. Then he stopped in front of me. I kept my face blank. His eyes narrowed slightly. No. No. No. Don’t recognize me. Please don’t recognize me. He stared for some moment before tilting his head. “You look familiar.” My heart stopped. Oh God. Not today. A memory flashed through my head. It was the second time again that Alexander forgot my birthday, ‘forgot’ was just a nice way to put it.

Five years into our marriage, I still hadn't gotten pregnant. The doctor said my fallopian tubes were blocked and that conceiving would be difficult. Even so, my husband, Lucas Enright, loved me with all his heart. Then, on our anniversary, he called and promised me a surprise I'd never forget. But when the estate gates swung open, a pregnant young woman stood outside. The smile froze on my face. Lucas didn't notice. He kissed the top of my head, beaming. "Freya, once we have this baby, the elders in my family will finally stop pressuring you about not having kids." When he saw how pale I was and noticed me trembling, he quickly pulled me into his arms. "Isabella is nothing more than a surro

“Heir to the Moonlit Shrine Pack, Joseph. Invites you to breakfast on the terrace. Shall I tell him you accept? Do you need me to wait so I can show you the way?” I had forgotten about this. With everything that I had going on back then, I wasn’t surprised I had forgotten some things. “I do accept, thank you…….um, sorry. I forgotten your name again. Anyhoo, there will be no need to wait around for me. I know where the terrace is.” Pure venom flashed in her eyes as I pretended to forget her name again. It was only a small thing. But it made me feel better. I was just about to leave my bed when I heard a disturbance outside my door.