Page 5
Story: The Cost of Forgetting Me
I knew he only saw me as a friend, so I buried my feelings and remained close as his confidante.
With his encouragement, I began working out and became stronger. Knowing his picky tastes, I learnt to cook and would pack him homemade lunches while we tackled work challenges together.
He introduced me to hiking and running, encouraging me to look after myself. He brought light into my dark world and gave my life meaning.
How could I not love him?
Clara appeared just as I was about to confess my feelings for him. She was a wealthy heiress who tried out work for fun.
She was every man’s dream, both beautiful and entitled. She and Landon got along well after being assigned to our team.
I watched them get closer, my heart aching from jealousy and self-loathing for being so ordinary.
During a company retreat, a sudden storm broke. People slipped and scattered as they descended the mountain. Landon vanished, but I knew about his hiking habits. I was concerned that he was in danger.
Despite the darkness and danger, I searched alone until I discovered him collapsed down a slope. He was exhausted from helping others.
I tried calling for help, but the signal was poor in the mountains.
The storm was worsening, and my heart was boiling. I quickly hoisted him onto my back and carried him to safety.
I wasn’t sure where I got that strength. Perhaps it was love.
Instead of catching my breath, I went in search of assistance. But when I returned with the rescuers, Clara was already there, sobbing alongside him.
When Landon awoke, she threw herself at him. “I kept looking for you. Thank God you’re okay.”
Everyone, including Landon, thought she was his saviour.
I stood alone, swallowing my grief and silently wiping away my bitter tears.
I was helpless back then. So was I now.
Drifting into his dream from our memories, Landon slept soundly in our bed, more at ease than during his restless hotel nights.
The next morning, he hired a cleaning service.
The cleaner was chatty and efficient. After removing the spoilt food, she began cleaning the house.
On the balcony, she saw a pot of wilted plants and sighed, “Your wife must’ve loved life. These flowers and plants were well cared for. Such a pity they’re gone.”
My chest tightened as I watched her delicately caress the withered leaves. Those carefully nurtured plants meant more to me than Landon.
When Landon heard her words, his expression was unreadable. I prepared for his rage, but he muttered, “Yeah, she liked that stuff.”
The cleaner noticed his bad mood and stopped talking. After cleaning the balcony, she moved to the wardrobe and exclaimed, “This is the tidiest wardrobe I’ve ever seen.”
The clothes were meticulously organised by colour, season, and Landon’s habits. I made sure he never had to look for an outfit.
He examined the wardrobe and then his dishevelled appearance. His lips parted, but no words emerged.
Finally, he left the room.
In the kitchen, the cleaner opened the refrigerator. “Your wife’s quite the baker. These cakes could be from a fancy shop.”
With his encouragement, I began working out and became stronger. Knowing his picky tastes, I learnt to cook and would pack him homemade lunches while we tackled work challenges together.
He introduced me to hiking and running, encouraging me to look after myself. He brought light into my dark world and gave my life meaning.
How could I not love him?
Clara appeared just as I was about to confess my feelings for him. She was a wealthy heiress who tried out work for fun.
She was every man’s dream, both beautiful and entitled. She and Landon got along well after being assigned to our team.
I watched them get closer, my heart aching from jealousy and self-loathing for being so ordinary.
During a company retreat, a sudden storm broke. People slipped and scattered as they descended the mountain. Landon vanished, but I knew about his hiking habits. I was concerned that he was in danger.
Despite the darkness and danger, I searched alone until I discovered him collapsed down a slope. He was exhausted from helping others.
I tried calling for help, but the signal was poor in the mountains.
The storm was worsening, and my heart was boiling. I quickly hoisted him onto my back and carried him to safety.
I wasn’t sure where I got that strength. Perhaps it was love.
Instead of catching my breath, I went in search of assistance. But when I returned with the rescuers, Clara was already there, sobbing alongside him.
When Landon awoke, she threw herself at him. “I kept looking for you. Thank God you’re okay.”
Everyone, including Landon, thought she was his saviour.
I stood alone, swallowing my grief and silently wiping away my bitter tears.
I was helpless back then. So was I now.
Drifting into his dream from our memories, Landon slept soundly in our bed, more at ease than during his restless hotel nights.
The next morning, he hired a cleaning service.
The cleaner was chatty and efficient. After removing the spoilt food, she began cleaning the house.
On the balcony, she saw a pot of wilted plants and sighed, “Your wife must’ve loved life. These flowers and plants were well cared for. Such a pity they’re gone.”
My chest tightened as I watched her delicately caress the withered leaves. Those carefully nurtured plants meant more to me than Landon.
When Landon heard her words, his expression was unreadable. I prepared for his rage, but he muttered, “Yeah, she liked that stuff.”
The cleaner noticed his bad mood and stopped talking. After cleaning the balcony, she moved to the wardrobe and exclaimed, “This is the tidiest wardrobe I’ve ever seen.”
The clothes were meticulously organised by colour, season, and Landon’s habits. I made sure he never had to look for an outfit.
He examined the wardrobe and then his dishevelled appearance. His lips parted, but no words emerged.
Finally, he left the room.
In the kitchen, the cleaner opened the refrigerator. “Your wife’s quite the baker. These cakes could be from a fancy shop.”