Novelas y relatos de Before I Forgot His Name

I agreed, standing up to give her a hug. Once Kris left, I clumsily walked back to my room and slumped down on the bed. Closing my eyes I tried to trace back the last night memories. It sucks when you can’t remember things you desperately want to remember. I passed out in the arms of a stranger. What sane person forgets something like that? Who was he? What was his name?

True, he almost forgot about it. He got to his bedroom and Watson, his golden retriever, nosed his hand. "Yeah, buddy. I know." He scratched the dog's ears. "You want to go for a walk, but I've got this damn party." The room was spotless. Expensive. Empty. His eyes caught the photo on his desk. His parents on their wedding day. His father's hand on his mother's waist. Both of them smiling like they'd found the secret to happiness. They'd died ten years ago. And Eric had been running ever since. He sat in his bed and begin dial Nolan's contact.

One in particular does, and I realised it since the moment Ren walked into the kitchen this morning. “Last night you forgot my name. And then this morning, miraculously, you remembered it again,” I remind him, to which his eyes slightly narrow. I’m quick to fix myself. “I’m not saying you should remember my name or anything. I just think it’s odd that you asked for my name last night and then remembered it again now.” It takes Ren a moment to answer, collecting his thoughts.

"What's your name by the way?" "I'm surprised you'd ask." I laughed. He has got angry with me, whined at me, joked around me, and told me a secret yet he hasn't asked my name but now. He chuckled. "I forgot to." "Ashira," I said, smiling. "You look good toni—"

What an ass! I slump on my chair and suddenlyfelt bad because he didn't even get my name and it's the actual basic thing to ask for when you want to get to know the opposite sex. I can't believe we did those things together that night but he actually forgot to ask for my name! Ugh! How could he even forget to ask my name? Oh damn Tate. But I'm sure he wouldn't even mind not knowing my name. He's famous, he'll just forget about what happened last night anyways.

I can feel the sudden quietness in the room as if something terrible had just happened. Like what the fuck is happening, why is everyone suddenly quiet, and what is that familiar voice saying about me not remembering anything. Of course, I remember everything, how can I not remember, how dumb he must he think I am? But I know who I am because my name is......Wait... My name is...... what is my name? I should have a name right, but what is it? “Teach him to remember who he is when he wakes up, tell him that his name is Alexander, the one and only true alpha king,” I heard the bad man say to the familiar voice.

He started, making hand gestures as if trying to recall her name. "Jasmine, Jasmine Calvin," she told him. "Ah yes, sorry, welcome and do have a nice day," he said, storming off into his office before she even had a chance to reply. Jasmine felt completely crushed and defeated. How could he forget her name! And here she was thinking they had a memorable meeting. Something was going on with him, of that she was sure and it must be serious if he could forget her name or maybe it was all in her head.

“I don’t think I’ve heard that name before.” Incredible. He drove a woman to her death and he couldn’t even remember her name. It told me just how awful of a person he was. How could he have forgotten her name so easily? Sure, it’d been years since Maeve passed, but how could he not remember her after the horrendous thing he did to her? He buried his hands in his pockets. “Is she someone I’m supposed to remember?”

He was slipping through his fingers like sand. He knew it was going to get only worse on the day he forgot the name of his grandchild. It was only for a minute but he did forget and he was right about it too because, from that day, he started losing all the distant memories. He forgot about his grandkids, his kids, his parents and even the family. The only thing he remembered was Zadkiel.

The memory of last night burned vividly in my mind—his firm arms, smooth muscles, and the way he moved like an insatiable beast, keeping me up until late. "Say my name," he had murmured in the dark. "It's Ian." I was barely conscious, lost in exhaustion, and when I hesitated, he would drive into me with more force until I finally moaned out his name, and only then did he relent. Leaning down, he whispered, "Forget him." It had all happened so fast that I barely had time to process the breakup, let alone feel sad about it. Staring at the messy sheets and scattered clothes, I realized the reckless thing I had done.