Forget Me Not Book Novels & Stories

I don't want to be like this anymore, I don't want to chase him anymore, I'll let him remember alone, did he really can remember me? Did he really want to remember me? Well, it's not my problem anymore I've had enough with him. Even, if it's breaking my heart I sigh I tried my very best for him to remember me but I failed. How can I help him to remember me when he always spend time with Loreane and now he suddenly act like that. It's hurting me whenever Loreane is around him and I felt jealous because she can make him smile, she can see the smile that I can no longer see, she can hold his hands and she can spend time with him. While me, I'm here waiting for him to remember me and him don't c

— Why did you come back? — I forgot my laptop, and I need to send some documents this weekend... — And there was no way to get a laptop there? — I had. Except that the documents are only saved in my personal notebook! — Mom, I told you not to do that! If you lose your notebook, or suddenly there is some problem with it, what then? — I never do that, but this time I forgot! — You forgot and ruined my moment because of your forgetfulness. — Why was the door closed, and did you take so long to open it?

It wasn’t amnesia all along; I know this fact; it was also the drugs that they gave me when I was captivated. I don't remember much about the times they injected me with drugs, but I know they didn't want me to die, but rather for me to forget everything forever, and it has something to do with our past in India. And it's certain that George and Alex will look into this personally. The way George fought with the men today, I'm sure the accumulation of guilt, loneliness, and sorrow made him the same ruthless man I met years ago. when I used to be "His Enthralled Desire."

But now, the drawer was empty, only a few papers and a pen left behind. My heart started pounding. It felt like someone was trying to erase my trail, as if everything I had written, every piece of evidence, was starting to disappear one by one. I hastily opened every drawer, hoping the book was just hidden somewhere. But the drawers were empty, only a few old unread letters inside. Anxiously, I turned around, searching for the book in every corner of the room. The person who had damaged my door had, in fact, taken the important notes and the book I had stored in the desk drawer. Why did I forget that one thing? Oh God...

I wasn’t. “May I have it back?” ‘You should give it back, you rude twat!’ Bane scolded me. I took the book up to my eyes and scanned the content. Save for a few words on the front, it was relatively empty. “Oh. It’s a journal,” I rolled my eyes. “And it’s empty,” she had an accusing look on her face…one that made me frown as I handed the book back to her. “What?” “You know, since you forgot things…you didn’t think keeping a daily log of things would help you remember when your memory goes ‘poof!’?”

His glare felt colder than any accusation, as though the sweet kiss he had given me the night before was nothing more than a cruel illusion. "How dare you hurt Cassidy! Even I have never dared to hurt her! "I must've spoiled you too much over the years. It seems you've forgotten your place!" I could hardly believe my ears. I stared at him, a sense of helplessness sinking deep into my chest as my voice trembled. "I've forgotten my place? Graham, I'm your wife! And you took my son away and gave him to her! What do you think of me, huh?" I asked, desperate for an answer.

So I began to pack my bags, but Sienna texted me halfway, attached with a photo of the car trunk full of champagne roses. [Look, Fiona. Duke still remembers champagne roses—these are my favorite.] [Thank you for grooming such a perfect partner. He's so much more romantic than before.] I didn't reply, and quietly ticked another day off the calendar. - That night, Duke broke his promise again—in fact, he didn't come home over the next few days either. As I solemnly cleared signs that I lived in my house and ticked the days off the calendar, I finally understood—when you were disappointed enough, you wouldn't even want to leave anything for the other person to remember you by.

he said, snapping out of my thoughts, as his gaze slowly trailed right through me, “Your book?” A short gasp escaped my lips, from the realization,“Ohh right,” I said, as I bent down, My hands scurrying inside, only to find nothing but loose pens and old wrappers and then the realization hit me, a sudden shock to my brain. Are you kidding? Did I actually forget to bring a book with me? Ohh my goodness, now I seriously wish I could just get swallowed up by the earth or something, cause how the hell am I to tell him, I didn't bring a single note here.

“Why not?” “I … I can’t remember anything.” Her eyes fell to the ground. It’s not that she couldn’t remember, it’s just … she didn’t want to remember anything about it. Her dark past had been haunting her, chasing her wherever she went. She was scared. Her fear would consume her and bring back all the trauma. Her entire life she had avoided recalling every bit of memory from her parents. And she’s fine with little or nothing to remember at all. “Wait.” Estevan opened his backpack and, later on, pulled out a notepad. “I’ve read a book before—back in my country and took some notes out of it. Here,” he said, pointing at a page. “It’s called Meditation Memory Recall.”

I threw on a coat, stepped out into the cool mountain air, and headed toward the pack’s library. The library was dark and silent, its massive shelves casting long shadows across the stone floor. I grabbed a lantern from a nearby table, its soft glow illuminating the spines of countless dusty books. “Where do I even start?” I muttered to myself. “Look for records of memory spells,” Nora suggested, her voice cautious. I scanned the shelves, running my fingers over faded titles until one caught my eye: Binding and Breaking: The Mysteries of Memory Magic. I pulled the book down and flipped through its pages, the words blurring together in my rush to find something—anything—that might explain the