Never Knew Her Name Novels & Stories

“Well, it doesn’t make sense that she started throwing words!” “I was about to kill her, dammit!” She raises her voice, and my eyes flare a bit. What? “I was ready to kill her, and she didn’t even flinch. She looked at my fucking dagger and smirked! What kind of a woman does that? An idiot…” She looks at me. "...Or a woman who’s seen worse?” I clench my jaw, and she continues. “She knew my name. She has never met me, yet she knew my name.” She had started to demonstrate with her arms now. “She said she asked around, but why would she ask around if she doesn’t know us in the first place?”

Her entire body shuddered — recognition ripping through her like lightning. Her lips parted in pure, silent horror. Because written on the card, in ink dark as a grave, wasn’t her name. It was the nickname she carried only in childhood. The one she never told anyone here. The one I promised her I would take to the grave. Her voice trembled. “How— How do you know this?” I smiled. And said nothing.

I liked my routines because they were mine. And yet, somehow, none of that ever seemed to count. Inside the house, another burst of laughter erupted, louder this time, infectious. It sounded like it belonged to another version of me. A parallel-universe Ellie who had followed the script more closely. The one who had brought someone home, who fit neatly into the glowing windows and shared jokes and collective warmth. I wondered what she was like. Happier? Or just better at playing the part? I pulled my phone from my pocket, more out of reflex than intention, and checked the screen. Nothing. No new messages. No missed calls. No notifications trying to pull me back into anyone else’s orbit.

"I was thinking you'd never find me." "Find you?" I wondered, "Were we supposed to be looking for you?" She stops and looks at me intently as if I had said something strange or missed something important. "Oh Hyacinth," she shakes her head sadly. "I know it's been a long time, but I didn't think you'd forget me so easily." "Forget you," I tilt the angle of my head. "Am I supposed to know you?" And then it occurs to me. I never told her my name. How did she know my name?

There was a moment of silence before she said, "I have no idea of my name." Her answer sent Luca into despair. He, finally, felt the need to explode in anger. "Woman, stop playing around! Just tell me the truth. Why did you do this to me and who are you?" The woman chuckled. "You're so impatient," she whispered and then added, "I have known you for a very, very long time. It's just you who didn't remember me." Luca felt shivers running down his spine. He was a hundred per cent sure that he never encountered her in his whole life. He remembers all of his exes' faces but hers, he had never seen her before. He had no idea who she was.

why you never say this? A single tear rolled down her cheek and fell down to my shirt. ''I'm a coward. I thought showing my emotions was... you know... lame.'' We both chortled at the same and she grew a smile at me. Her hands were on the side of my face and she brushed against my cheeks in a vertical motion.

He asked in a hopeful voice. I sighed and threw my head back. “No,” I said deeply. His mouth went agape. “No? You don’t even know the name of your mate? How is that possible?” “Fuck, I forgot, okay? I was lost in the moment, and I had no opportunities to ask for her name.” “So, where are we going to start searching for her when you don’t even know her name, let alone her hair color?” I shook my head. “I don’t know. But what I do know is that I’d recognize her right away once I see her.”

What I knew was this: somewhere outside these borders, a girl had been thrown away by everyone who was supposed to keep her, and the pack had closed over the gap she left like water over a stone, and not one person with a name that meant something had said wait. I was no one. I had no name that meant anything. I had seventeen years and a cot in the omega block and a talent for watching things from corners and being underestimated. But I remembered her. And something told me, with the quiet certainty of an instinct I had learned not to ignore, that remembering her was going to matter eventually.

She asked. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened; she probably misheard her sister and confused the sound of the name she muttered with mine because Aidan and Jayden both have a similar sound to them. I tried to remember if I knew anyone by that name, but I couldn't remember anybody with that name. This is not surprising given that I am not very close to any of my relatives. "Sorry, I didn't know him." She said, "That's okay, he told me you probably don't know him."

How was she supposed to tell them that she doesn't have a name, or at least she can’t remember what her name is. “I don’t know.” That came out like a whisper. The child was shocked, her face was laced with shock. “You don’t know your name? Are you kidding me?” She even raised her eyebrows at her. She nodded. “I really don’t have any idea what my name is and I can’t remember anything.” She confessed. There’s no reason for her not to say it. Maybe this people could help her get back on track. Maybe they knew what happened to her before she lost her memories.