I looked around blankly, trying to steady my breathing. Something happened just now.
I knew it did. But my thoughts felt foggy, slippery, hard to hold onto.
There was a man.
Someone I used to care about maybe.
But his face already felt blurry in my mind.
If my back wasn’t hurting so badly, I would’ve thought none of it was real.
I stayed on the floor for a long time, slowly picking up the torn diary pages one by one. My hands were trembling while I tried to tape everything back together because I couldn’t rewrite those memories anymore.
Some of them were already gone forever.
I didn’t even know how much time passed before I finally finished fixing the notebook enough to close it again.
When I looked up, my reflection in the mirror startled me.
My face was pale. I looked less like a person and more like something abandoned.
The strength left my body all at once and I collapsed onto the floor again.
Cold wind drifted in through the open window, moving softly through the silent living room until another page from the calendar loosened and fell.
Three days left.
...
When I woke up again later, the entire house was dark and silent. For a moment, panic wrapped around my throat because I couldn’t remember where I was or why everything felt so unfamiliar.
It took me a while to calm my breathing.
Then I reached for the notebook beside me.
Right.
The surgery.
Three days.
That was the important thing.
I spent the next few days staying inside the room and reading through my diary over and over, trying to memorize every name and every memory connected to the people I loved.
Mom, dad, grandpa, grandma, and friends.
I repeated them quietly to myself because I was terrified I’d wake up one day and forget all of them completely.
One night, my phone lit up with a notification.
I opened it slowly.
It was from someone named Judith.
There was a picture attached.
A man was asleep beside her in bed, shirtless, his neck covered with dark marks and lipstick stains.
Under the photo, she sent another message.
“We went a little crazy last night. Aren’t you jealous? If you know what’s good for you, leave Gideon already. He belongs to me.”
I stared at the screen for a long moment.
Gideon.
That name again.
For some reason, seeing his face stirred faint images in my head, broken flashes that disappeared before I could grab onto them.
I frowned and opened my diary again, flipping through the pages carefully. There was barely anything about him there.
So he probably wasn’t important anymore.
Maybe he used to be.
But not now. Not enough to remember.
I turned my phone off and placed it aside before lying back down on the bed. My eyes drifted toward the calendar on the wall.
Three more days… That was all I needed to remember. As for Gideon and Judith…
They didn’t matter anymore.
…
My parents called me early in the morning.
The signal kept cutting because of the storm where they were staying overseas, but I could still hear the worry in my mother’s voice.
“Selah, the weather’s terrible here,” she said. “Your father and I might not make it back in time for the wedding.”
Wedding.
That word made me pause.
I tightened my grip on the phone and tried to remember.
Whose wedding?
For some reason, my mind stayed blank.
I only remembered my parents because of the diary beside my bed. Without it, even their voices sometimes felt distant and unfamiliar, and that terrified me more than the surgery itself.
My father sighed heavily on the other end. “We already prepared your gift and everything. We didn’t expect this storm.”
I forced myself to smile even though they couldn’t see me.
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “Don’t worry about me. Just stay safe and come home when the weather clears.”
I hung up slowly after comforting them for a while, then stared at the phone in confusion.
Wedding.
Why couldn’t I remember something that important?
Not long after, another call came.
This time it was Gideon’s parents.
Their voices sounded warm and careful, asking if I was ready for the wedding rehearsal because everything at the church had already been prepared.
Again, my thoughts went blank.
I didn’t even know how to answer them.
So I just hummed quietly and ended the call as politely as I could.
Afterward, I sat alone in the villa trying hard to remember if I had forgotten something important, but the house around me didn’t feel like a bride’s home at all. There were no wedding decorations, no flowers, no dresses laid out waiting for the ceremony. Nothing. The place felt empty.
Maybe everyone remembered wrong. Or maybe I was never supposed to get married at all.
How could someone in my condition even think about marriage when I was preparing for brain surgery?
That thought settled the confusion a little.
So I stayed home quietly for the next few days.
Sometimes the headaches became unbearable and I had to take painkillers while lying in bed waiting for the dizziness to pass. Sometimes I would sit beside the calendar for hours, staring at the final pages and counting down silently.
Then finally, the last day arrived.
I woke up early that morning and opened the window. Fresh air rushed into the room and for once my chest didn’t feel so heavy.
The calendar had reached the end.
I started packing my luggage slowly because I knew I’d be leaving for a very long time after the surgery. Maybe months. Maybe longer.
As I packed, I removed everything that belonged to me from the villa like books, clothes, photos and the lttle things scattered around the house.
By the time I finished, the entire place looked cold and untouched, almost as if I had never lived there at all.
I picked up my suitcase and was about to leave when the front door suddenly opened.
A man and a woman walked in together.
I frowned immediately.
The man was tall, dressed in black, carrying himself with the kind of cold arrogance that made the entire room feel smaller around him. The woman beside him clung to his arm comfortably.
Both of them walked into the villa as if they owned it.
Something about the man irritated me instantly.
I didn’t know him well, but my body reacted before my thoughts could catch up.
The man stopped in front of me and looked down at me with a sharp expression, the kind powerful men wore when they were used to controlling everyone around them.
“Today’s our wedding day,” he said coldly. “I’m giving you one final chance. Apologize to Judith properly and maybe I’ll still show up.”
I stared at him in confusion. Was he insane? Who talks about marriage like it’s charity? And why would I apologize to a stranger standing in my own house?
I looked at him more carefully then.
Cold eyes. Arrogant posture. The kind of man who expected obedience without question. How did I ever end up connected to someone like this?
Just looking at him made me uncomfortable.
The woman beside him tightened her grip around his arm and looked at me smugly, clearly enjoying the situation.
The man kept watching me, probably waiting for me to cry or beg but I couldn’t understand why I would ever lower myself for someone like him.
When I stayed silent, his expression darkened immediately.
“Selah,” he said sharply, “you’ve disappointed me again. Let me make this clear. If you refuse to apologize to Judith, then don’t expect me to attend the wedding. Your Laureen family will become a joke in front of the entire mafia circle.”
Then he turned slightly.
“Judith, let’s go.”
But even while walking away, he moved slowly, almost deliberately waiting for me to stop him.
As if he was completely certain I would run after him eventually. Something about that confidence almost made me laugh.
After a moment, he stopped again and looked back at me, his tone softening slightly though it still carried that same cold superiority.
“I never said I wouldn’t marry you,” he said. “Judith just can’t let go of me. That’s why she became depressed. Everything I’ve done was for your sake too.”
His voice lowered further.
“So stop causing problems and try to understand my intentions. The wedding is about to start. My condition hasn’t changed. No apology means I won’t appear.”
He spoke as if he was already being generous.
As if I should feel grateful he was willing to marry me at all.
And somehow, I knew without understanding why this man truly believed I loved him enough to endure anything? He probably thought I would still choose him every single time.
The strange thing was… I felt nothing when hearing those words. Only confusion over why I would ever tolerate someone this arrogant.
The man finally left with Judith, still carrying himself with absolute confidence that I would eventually surrender.
I watched the door close behind them and shook my head slowly. What kind of terrible luck would make someone fall for a man like that?
I almost felt sorry for the version of myself who once did.
Then I picked up my luggage again, walked over to the calendar, and tore off the final page.
Done.
I looked around the villa one last time, at the place holding memories that no longer felt real to me, then turned away without hesitation.
Far away, church bells began ringing.
Some weddings were probably starting.
At the same time, I boarded the plane leaving this city behind.
And as the aircraft rose into the sky, so did the last traces of the life I used to have.
