Chapter382 I Will Never Forget You Again
Darian tightened his grip around Cecily's waist.
Cecily blinked, not hearing Darian's response. She raised her hands to cling to Darian's neck.
Darian's straight posture was pulled towards her by her strength.
They were very close, and Cecily's bright eyes stared at Darian. "Say it! Will you be happy? Tell me."
Darian's eyes were dark.
Her stance suggested that if he dared to say he was happy, she would immediately turn against him.
Perhaps not wanting to see her make a scene again, or maybe for some other reason, he said, "Not happy."
Cecily let out a laugh, and as she laughed, tears began to fall. "So, can't you put yourself in my shoes?"
Darian watched Cecily cry. She cried very sadly, very deeply.
Watching her, Darian felt a pang of heartache.
"I don't know why I forgot so many things. Don't be sad." He raised his hand to wipe her tears, but the more he wiped, the more they flowed. He sighed helplessly, "I won't forget you, alright? I'll go back and find a way to remember the past. Don't cry."
He had always been a cold-hearted person. If it were someone else, he probably wouldn't have given them a second glance. But seeing her cry like this, he felt guilty.
Like a child with low intelligence, he promised her. "I won't see other women, just remember you, alright?"
That night, Cecily was half-drunk and half-awake, but her crying was truly heartbroken. It was an uncontrollable sorrow.
She had made all the preparations, resolved every obstacle, and returned to him full of joy, only to find he no longer recognized her.
It felt like seeing something she really liked in a store, and after overcoming all difficulties and earning enough money to bring it home, it was no longer available.
The thin shirt Darian wore gradually became soaked with tears as Cecily rubbed against him.
He felt helpless, increasingly feeling that forgetting her was the most unforgivable thing. ‘How could I make her so aggrieved?’
He reached out to touch her head, but she suddenly looked up, as if she had discovered something, and sniffed him. The next second, she pushed him away. "You stink, don't hug me."
It was that perfume smell again.
"Smoke?" asked Darian.
Cecily replied, "Perfume!"
Darian raised an eyebrow. He had thrown away the jacket, not expecting the perfume smell to linger. She was crying so intensely yet still noticed the scent on him, showing how much she cared about it.
"I don't want to smell that scent." Cecily frowned and began to take off Darian's clothes.
Darian raised an eyebrow and grabbed her hand. "What are you doing?"
"I don't want you to have another woman's scent on you. I don't like it." Cecily, acting like a rogue, tried to strip him of his clothes.
Darian felt a bit helpless. She was difficult, but he had the patience to indulge her. "Can we go home and take them off?"
Cecily blinked. "No, I don't like it."
Darian pulled her close, slightly bending down, his tone still coaxing as if speaking to a child. "If I take off my clothes here and others see, won't you be jealous? Let's go home, and you can do whatever you want, alright?"
Cecily looked up at Darian. She seemed a bit drunk, but it felt like Darian was drunk too.
Otherwise, why would he be so good to her?
"Everyone is watching you. Let's go home first." He coaxed softly, not knowing what had come over him, being unusually gentle.
He slightly turned his face, his gaze falling on her lips. After crying for so long, her face was a bit swollen, and her pink lips looked particularly tempting, making him want to taste them.
And in fact, he couldn't control himself and did just that.
As he had imagined, her lips were soft and sweet, with a hint of red wine flavor.
He kissed her seriously, feeling that he must have loved her deeply before.
When he released her, he found that she had closed her eyes, seemingly asleep, her soft body completely leaning on him.
She seemed to trust him implicitly.
Darian let out a light laugh.
A layer of gloom that had lingered in his heart for a long time quietly dissipated without him realizing it.
He picked up Cecily and, without caring about the people behind him, left with her.
"Cecily," Aurelie murmured, lying on a bench by the flowerbed. It had rained, and the wind made her wet clothes cling to her, intensifying the chill and sobering her up a bit. "Cecily was taken away. I need to catch up."
She tried to follow, but Nathaniel, standing beside her, grabbed her. "She went home with Darian. Are you going to follow them?"
Aurelie sniffled, her gaze finally landing on Nathaniel. She squinted her eyes, pausing for several seconds before suddenly cupping Nathaniel's face.
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow but didn't push Aurelie away, maintaining his good-natured demeanor.
"You..." She leaned weakly against him, and as he wondered what she was doing, she whispered in his ear, "You look like someone I know."
"And what is he to you?" Nathaniel seemed intrigued.
His question seemed to touch a sore spot. She lowered her eyes. "He is my creditor."
She let out a bitter laugh. "I owe him, owe him a perfect life."
Nathaniel looked down at her, his casual expression becoming more serious. Cecily seemed to be talking to herself, her murmuring voice growing softer and softer until the last few words were swallowed back.
Cecily, brought home by Darian, had already fallen into a deep sleep.
Darian carried her to her own room. Before leaving, he bent down, looking at her face, raising an eyebrow slightly.
He was now very curious about their past.
He was even more curious about why he had lost his memory. At the time, Owen had given him an explanation, and he hadn't doubted Owen. After a clean bill of health, he hadn't pursued the matter further.
But now he felt that it wasn't so simple.
Because everyone who knew about his amnesia had one thing in common: they had all concealed Cecily's existence.
Why was that?
He was curious about what had happened between them.
The next morning, Cecily was awakened by the ringing of her phone.
Groggily, she turned over and groped for her phone on the table, not bothering to open her eyes to see who was calling. She answered it directly.
Her lazy voice sounded, waiting for the other person to speak. She heard a calm voice say, "Cecily, it's me."
Hearing the voice, Cecily's drowsiness faded a bit. She opened her eyes. "Uncle Bryan, what's the matter?"
"I want to talk to you. Do you have time?"
Cecily hadn't forgotten that she had called the police last night to have Freya arrested.
Freya must have contacted Bryan and Jennifer, exaggerating the situation, which was why Bryan was calling her.
"Can I refuse?" Cecily's voice turned colder.
Regarding Bryan, she couldn't quite pinpoint her feelings. It was clear that he loved Vivienne and was her husband, but he was also very good to Jennifer and Freya, even allowing Freya to call him father.
This made Cecily very uncomfortable.
Freya called him "father" and Jennifer "mother." So what did that make Vivienne, his original wife, in all of this?
"No, we need to resolve what happened with Freya last night."
Cecily sat up, letting out a cold laugh. "Well, I'm sorry, but I don't want to resolve it. Let's follow the court's decision."
"Freya explained what happened last night. There was a misunderstanding. Let her apologize to you, and let's put this matter to rest." Bryan didn't seem to want to discuss it with her but rather demanded it forcefully.
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