Chapter 19
Mr. Sinclair.
The formal address cut through him like a blade.
He opened his mouth, suddenly realizing he had nothing to say.
What could he say?
That “you once loved me enough to die for me“? But that devotion had never been for him.
That “why did you leave“? But she didn’t even remember who he was.
Finally, he looked away in defeat, voice hoarse: “Nothing. I mistook you for someone else.”
He turned and pushed through the door, practically fleeing.
Lucas stood in the rain, letting icy water soak through his clothes.
He thought of Aria’s expression just now–so clean, so peaceful.
No love, no hate, not even a ripple of emotion.
She had truly forgotten.
Forgotten him, forgotten Adrian, forgotten all that pain and obsession.
tain streamed down his face as he wiped it away, unable to tell if it was water or something else.
nside the bookstore, Aria watched the man’s retreating figure, an inexplicable flutter in her chest.
he shook her head and continued organizing shelves.
fer fingers touched a book titled “Survivor’s Account of a Car Crash” and her temple suddenly throbbed with pain.
creeching brakes.
hattered windshield.
Someone holding her tight as warm blood dripped on her face.
Aria, live…”
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My Husband’s Guide to Losing a Perfectly Good Win
Chapter 19
*Thud!”
The book fell from her hands, hitting the floor heavily.
Aria staggered against the bookshelf, vision going black in waves.
“Careful!” Strong, defined hands suddenly appeared, steadying her firmly.
“Thank you,” she said, unconsciously stepping back.
Lucas had returned. His hand hung in mid–air as if wanting to say something, but he silently withdrew it.
His gaze was too intense, making Aria unconsciously touch her face: “Is there something on my face?”
“No.” Lucas’s voice was deep, suppressing something. “You just… look like someone I once knew.”
“I see.” Aria smiled politely and turned to organize other shelves.
But she could feel that burning gaze following her every movement.
“May I ask…” Lucas moved closer, “how long have you worked here?”
“Three months and seven days,” she answered without looking up.
ing hitched: “And before that?”
ally turned, confusion creasing her brow. “I’m sorry, I had an accident last year and can’t
clearly.”
denly intensified. The man’s face looked ghastly pale in the dim light, his throat working: “Really nothing…
Aria shook her head, offering an apologetic smile: “If you’re looking for someone, you might have the wrong person, I’m Aria Winters, a new employee at this bookstore.”
“Aria. Winters.” He pronounced each syllable like rolling them on his tongue. “You really don’t remember Lucas
Sindair?
“Lucas… Sinclair?” She repeated softly, frowning unconsciously.
The name was like a thin needle, briefly piercing the fog of memory before vanishing.
“I’m sorry, should I know you?”
“We used to be… close.” His voice was rough. “You worked for me for five years.”
Aria’s eyes widened in surprise: “But I have no memory of that… Wait, how do you prove what you’re saying is
true?”
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Chapter 19
Lucas instinctively reached for his wallet, then stopped mid–motion.
What could he prove? Photos? Aria had never appeared in his personal albums.
Gifts? He’d never given her anything.
Work records? Those only showed cold job titles.
Finally, he could only say dryly: “You have a scar on the inside of your right wrist from deflecting a bottle meant for
me.”
Aria quickly covered her wrist, where indeed lay a pale white scar. Her expression changed: “Please sit. I’ll make
tea.”
In the break room, her hands shook so badly she could barely hold the teapot.
‘Mr. Sinclair?” she called softly.
Lucas turned, his expression complex enough to be frightening. “You never used to call me ‘Mr. Sinclair.“”
‘Then what did I call you?”
‘Lucas.” He said quietly. “Or… Boss.”
Aria handed him the tea, deliberately avoiding finger contact: “I’m sorry, I really can’t remember.”
‘I understand.” Lucas suddenly interrupted, setting down the untouched tea and preparing to leave. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”
“Wait!” Aria impulsively called out. “If you really knew me, could you tell me what kind of person I used to be?”
Lucas stood in the rain–blurred doorway without turning back: “You were… very stubborn.”
His voice was almost swallowed by the rain. “Stubborn enough to sacrifice your entire youth for a single promise.
The door chimes rang once, and his figure vanished into the downpour.
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