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Chapter 1117:
🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙
A faint, almost wistful smile curved at the edges of her lips. “During that time on the cruise, far out in international waters, I honestly believed I would never return. Through that month drifting aimlessly at sea, what kept me alive, apart from my own stubborn will, was probably a kind of refusal—refusal to die so easily, refusal to leave so many words unsaid and so many unfinished chapters behind.”
Only then did she turn her gaze to him, a soft glimmer flashing in her eyes before settling into calm. “So when I saw you out on the water, I felt genuinely happy. It made me think there was still hope.”
Vincent remained silent, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his hands tightened unconsciously at his sides.
“At that point, we were so close,” she murmured, “just one step away from finding our way back to each other.” Her eyes darkened with layered emotion. “But your sudden memory loss changed everything. Facing you in that state made me feel like I had slipped back into the old Hannah again—constantly anxious, gripping onto things too tightly, afraid of losing anything and everything. I could barely recognize myself.” Her voice softened, level and introspective. “Yet through every cycle of hope, disappointment, and struggle, I think I slowly began to understand certain things.”
Vincent finally broke the silence, his gaze locked on her. “What things?”
Hannah held his eyes, her voice steady and unhurried. “To live freely and stay true to myself.”
T𝘩𝖾 𝘣𝘦𝗌𝘵 𝗋𝘦𝗏𝗶ewѕ 𝗈𝗇 𝘨𝗮𝘭ոо𝘃𝖾l𝗌.𝗰𝗈m
Her words hit him like a blunt impact, knocking the breath from his chest. He leaned forward slightly, urgency sharpening his tone. “Why can’t you be yourself when you’re with me? I won’t cage you the way I did before. I promise.”
A slow shake of her head answered him, her calmness unsettling in its clarity.
“I don’t know, Vincent,” she replied, honest and unguarded. “What I do feel is that if we returned to each other now, I might fall back into old habits. I might still overthink, still doubt, still worry. I’m afraid those same misunderstandings and wounds will resurface, trapping us in another cycle of hurting each other until we repeat the same mistakes.”
She drew in a deep breath, as though sealing a long-awaited decision, finally giving voice to the thoughts she had held for far too long. “I think it may be better if we stay as friends. Alright? Some distance and time might help us sort our hearts out and let the wounds heal properly. As for whatever comes afterward, we can talk about that later.”
The words “stay as friends” landed heavily in Vincent’s chest. His lips parted as if instinctively reaching for a reply, yet not a single sound escaped. He longed to say “no,” to insist, “We cannot just be friends,” to beg Hannah to give him one more chance.
However, every sentence he had prepared collapsed silently beneath her steady, composed gaze. What right did he have to demand anything more from her now? After all, he had been the one who forgot her, who pushed her away again and again, leaving her alone to wrestle with despair. In this moment, her willingness to sit here calmly and speak to him at all felt like an extraordinary act of mercy.
.
.
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