2 years later
Whoever said happiness lasts forever is delusional. You'll never understand my pain. My heart aced like vines trapped me tight in my body.
Never in my life I'd ever asked for something and all I asked for was to receive so much love and care from my boyfriend. Life must be cruel to even do such things.
No one ever cares. They never do! It's always about themselves, their needs and reputation. So if you say you love me, am I supposed to believe it with a blind eye.
Dae-hyun. My love. May soul. Why must fate tore us apart?
All I ever wanted was to be loved.
I broke down on my knees closer to his embrace. As he lay there all weak. I let my tears escape for freedom while I'm imprisoned in this curse.
I walked down the familiar path to the hospital, the autumn wind tugging at my coat, carrying with it the scent of wet leaves and asphalt. My heart ached with a weight I couldn't shake, heavy with a premonition I refused to acknowledge.
He had been in an accident—minor, they said at first—but even minor injuries could change everything. I gripped my bag tighter, feeling my nails dig into the leather. Two years. Two years of laughter, late-night talks, stolen moments at the park, and sudden quiet smiles in classrooms. And now… none of it mattered.
The waiting room was stark, white walls buzzing with fluorescent lights, and the air smelled faintly of antiseptic and fear. I scanned every face, desperate to see him, to find that familiar look that had once made my heart skip.
A nurse appeared, clipboard in hand. "Woo-jin?"
"Yes," I croaked, my voice catching in my throat. "Is he… how is he?"
The nurse hesitated, swallowing. "He's stable… physically. But… he's disoriented. We're not sure how much he remembers right now."
I froze. My chest tightened. "What do you mean?"
"Memory loss," she said softly. "Some trauma—he's… he doesn't recognize anyone familiar. We need to monitor him."
The world seemed to collapse around me. My stomach dropped, my legs went weak. "He… he doesn't remember me?" I whispered, voice trembling, disbelief making it barely audible.
She shook her head gently. "Not yet. But we're doing everything we can."
I sank into the nearest chair, hands gripping my knees. Two years… two years of love, of trust, of hope… and now it was gone. Like sand slipping through my fingers, leaving only emptiness.
Finally, they allowed me to see him. His hospital bed was pristine, the machines beeping a calm rhythm. And there he was… Dae-hyun. My Dae-hyun. My heart still recognized him before my mind could.
"Dae-hyun…" I whispered, stepping closer. "It's me… Woo-jin."
He stirred but flinched instinctively, as if my presence alone triggered fear. His eyes—once warm, steady, safe—flickered with confusion. A shadow of panic crossed his face.
"Who… who are you?" he asked, voice small, guarded.
My heart shattered. "It's me… it's Woo-jin! Don't you remember? We… We've known each other for years. I—"
He flinched again, drawing the blanket tighter around him. "I… I… I don't—"
I stepped closer, feeling my tears spill. "You don't understand! We… We shared everything. Two years… and now… now you don't remember me? You… you don't even know me!"
Outside, the autumn wind swirled through the empty streets, indifferent. Inside, my world had shattered. And there was nothing I could do to put it back together.
I froze where I stood, my heart hammering so violently I thought it might tear through my chest. He doesn't remember me. The words repeated in my mind, sharper and heavier with each beat. Dae-hyun… my Dae-hyun… my laughter, my whispers, my hands intertwined with his… all gone.
"You… you don't know me?" I croaked, my voice breaking as tears welled up, blurring the room.
He looked at me, confusion and fear clouding his eyes, the warmth I had once known—my anchor—completely absent. "I… I'm sorry… I don't—"
"No… no, this isn't real!" I shouted, shaking my head. My knees buckled, and I sank to the floor beside his bed. "Two years… two years we shared… and now… now it's like I never existed!"
His trembling hands clutched the blanket tighter, recoiling as if my words carried some unseen threat. My chest felt hollow, empty, as if all the air had been stolen from me.
"Dae-hyun… it's me. Woo-jin… don't you remember?" I begged, my voice barely above a whisper, quivering with despair.
He flinched, eyes wide, almost fearful. "I… I… I don't know…"
The words hit harder than any punch ever could. I felt my stomach drop, bile rising, and my vision blurred with tears. I wanted to scream, to collapse, to crumble into nothingness. Everything inside me was breaking—the love, the hope, the trust, all disappearing in that single moment.
"You… you don't remember me?" I whispered again, shaking. "All those nights… all the time we spent together… the park, the laughter, the stupid little fights… you don't remember any of it?"
He flinched again, retreating slightly under the blankets. "I… I'm… I'm sorry…"
"Sorry?!" I shrieked, the sound raw, desperate. "Sorry, don't fix this! Sorry doesn't bring back what I've lost! You… you don't even know me anymore! You… you're a stranger!"
I buried my face in my hands, trembling uncontrollably. My chest ached, tears streaming down my cheeks. "I loved you… I still love you! And you… you don't even remember!"
The nurse's voice was calm but distant. "Woo-jin… please… give him time…"
Time. Time won't bring him back to me! I whispered under my breath, shivering. "Time… he doesn't know me… and I… I can't… I can't bear this…"
My mind replayed everything we had shared, every smile, every touch, every whispered confession—and now it was gone, erased from him. Gone. And I… I was still here, broken, holding onto memories that he couldn't even recognize.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. I wanted to curl up and disappear. But mostly… I just wanted him back. My Dae-hyun. The boy who had trusted me, who had smiled at me, who had loved me. He was gone, and all that remained was this unbearable, hollow ache.
"I… I can't… I can't do this," I whispered into the cold, sterile room, voice shaking. "I… I'll… I'll never… I can't see you like this…"
I stood slowly, hands trembling, and stepped away from the bed, my vision blurred. Every step felt heavy, every breath painful. Outside, the wind howled through the empty streets, indifferent, echoing the emptiness in my chest.
Two years… gone. And I had no way to reach him. No way to fix what had been broken. Only the weight of my heartbreak and the unbearable absence of the one person who had once been my everything.
"I… I'll… I can't…" I whispered again, tears falling freely. "Not if you don't remember me… I… I can't…"
The moment I stepped back, I noticed it—his body tensing, shoulders curling, hands trembling against the sheets. Something primal, instinctive, flickered in his eyes: fear. Not just confusion. Fear.
"Dae-hyun?" I whispered, my voice shaky. "What's wrong?"
He flinched, almost recoiling as if my mere presence threatened him. His chest heaved, shallow breaths escaping him like he was trying not to drown in some invisible current.
A doctor appeared from the side, clipboard in hand, eyes scanning Dae-hyun with careful concern. "It's the pheromones," he said quietly, almost to himself. Then he turned to me, voice soft but firm. "He… he's experiencing trauma related to omegas. There was an incident recently—he witnessed something… horrific. That's why he's panicking."
My heart froze. "Trauma… over me?" I whispered, my voice cracking.
The doctor hesitated, then nodded gently. "It's not about you personally. But his instincts… his memory's blank, yes, but the reactions—his body remembers pain, fear, assault. And right now, your presence is triggering it. It's involuntary."
I sank into the chair, chest tightening. "So… he's… afraid of me?"
The doctor shook his head. "No. He's afraid of what he associates you with subconsciously—omegas, vulnerability, the way he was hurt. His mind is trying to protect him. He doesn't know it's you. But the reaction is real."
Guilt hit me like a freight train. My hands trembled, and I buried my face in them. "It's my fault… this is my fault," I whispered. "I… I'm the one standing here, and he's… he's scared of me…"
The doctor placed a firm hand on my shoulder. "Woo-jin… you didn't cause this. He's dealing with trauma. You didn't hurt him. But yes… his reactions are painful, and yes… it's going to be difficult. Give him time. Be patient. But don't blame yourself for his trauma."
I shook my head violently, tears spilling freely. "I can't… I can't just stand here while he's terrified of me! I… I love him. I've loved him for years. And now… he doesn't even know me, and he's… scared."
Dae-hyun's breaths were ragged, shallow, and I watched helplessly as he curled inward, as if trying to shrink away from the world. My heart shattered again.
"I… I'll wait," I whispered, voice hoarse. "I'll wait for him… but how long… how long until he trusts me again?"
The doctor sighed softly. "Trauma recovery isn't linear. It can take days, months… maybe years. Right now, he needs safety, stability, and a reminder that he's in control. You are here, quietly… not forcing anything, is part of that. But you also need to protect yourself. Don't let guilt consume you."
I nodded, swallowing hard. Every instinct in me wanted to pull him into my arms, to reassure him, to beg him to remember—but the fear in his eyes stopped me. All I could do was watch, heart aching, guilt crushing me with every shallow breath he took.
I whispered into the cold, sterile room, "I'll… I'll be here. I'll wait. I'll wait for as long as it takes. I just… I can't lose you again…"
Dae-hyun whimpered softly, eyes darting around as if the room itself had become a threat. I stayed silent, hands clenched into fists, feeling helpless but resolute.
This wasn't just heartbreak anymore. This was watching the one I loved suffer—fearful, lost, unaware—and knowing there was nothing I could do to fix it… yet.
And the weight of two years of love, now unrecognized and tangled with trauma, settled like stones on my chest.
I lingered near the edge of the room, my fingers gripping the edge of the chair, heart hammering with every breath he took. Dae-hyun lay in the hospital bed, eyes wide, untrusting, darting at every movement. The warmth I remembered—the soft glances, the quiet smiles—was gone. Replaced by something cold, guarded, almost hostile.
"Who… are you?" he spat suddenly, voice sharp, trembling with fear and tension.
I froze. My chest tightened, and a tear slid down my cheek. "It's… it's me, Dae-hyun," I said softly, careful. "Woo-jin. We… we've known each other for years. I—"
"I don't care," he snapped, drawing the blanket tighter around him. "I don't know you. Stay away."
The sting of his words hit me harder than I expected. The boy I loved—my Dae-hyun—was gone. A stranger with my memories embedded in him, eyes flashing panic and fear.
"I… I'm not going anywhere," I whispered, voice cracking. "I just… I care about you. That's all. I won't hurt you."
He scoffed, a harsh, bitter sound. "Care? What good is your care if I don't even know you? I don't need anyone right now."
My hands clenched in my lap. "I just want you to feel safe," I said, voice trembling. "I'll stay here. I'll wait as long as you need… even if it's just me sitting quietly, not touching you."
His gaze hardened. "Quietly, huh? That's all? You think that's enough? You don't understand anything!"
"I do," I whispered, tears threatening again. "I know you're scared. I know… something happened, something terrible. I just want you to feel okay again. That's all I can do right now."
He flinched as if I'd shouted, curling into himself. "I don't want you here. I don't want anyone here. Don't touch me. Don't talk to me. Just… leave!"
I swallowed the lump in my throat, my heart aching. "I can't leave," I admitted softly. "Not when you're like this. Not when you're afraid… not when you're alone. I'll stay. You don't have to like me. You don't have to trust me. Just… let me be here."
His lip trembled, a flicker of something—confusion, fear, anger—crossing his face. "Why… why are you still here?"
"Because I… care about you," I said, my voice breaking. "Because you matter to me, even if you don't remember. Even if you hate me right now… I'll stay."
He didn't answer. Just stared, silent, eyes wide and wary, and for a moment, it felt like he might lash out again. But I stayed, trembling, quietly, letting him build his walls around himself while I lingered, hoping one day he'd let me in again.
The nurse hovered, gentle. "He's reacting normally," she whispered. "Just… be patient. Let him set the pace."
I nodded, my hands gripping my knees, voice barely audible. "I will… I'll wait."
And so I stayed, silent, broken, guilty, and hopelessly tethered to a boy who no longer remembered the love we once shared.