After Losing My Memory, My Boyfriend‘s Best Friend Took Advantage

After a long internal debate, I finally mustered the courage to knock on Zachary’s door.

He opened it quickly, fresh from the shower, drying his hair with a towel as he gave me a distant look. “What is it?”

His cold attitude made it even harder to speak, but I forced the words out, red-eyed and trembling. “I… can I sleep with you tonight?”

His hand paused mid-motion, and he looked at me with a steady gaze. “You want to sleep with me?”

I nodded.

He stared at me for a long moment, as if weighing his thoughts, not saying a word. I stood my ground, determined. No matter what, I wasn’t going to sleep alone tonight.

Finally, he spoke. “Once you get your memory back, you’ll regret this.”

“I won’t!” I replied.

He was silent again.

I took a deep breath and confessed what I’d been rehearsing in my mind for days. “I know I hurt you. I don’t know why I did what I did, but I’ve decided—even if my memory comes back, I’ll never go back to that third party who came between us.”

The air felt thick with tension. Just when I thought he might turn me away, he finally spoke.

“Fine. Come in.”

Relieved, I looked at him with a hint of gratitude. I must have been blind to leave such a good man and ‘cheat’ with someone else.

The bed was large. I instinctively settled on the farthest side, away from where he usually slept.

Once the lights were off, the room fell into quiet darkness, broken only by the sounds of his breathing and the faint rustling as he shifted. Oddly, the sound was comforting.

But the next morning, as soon as I regained full awareness, I nearly screamed.

Zachary and I were wrapped tightly around each other. His leg was entwined with mine, his strong arm circled my waist, and my head was nestled against his chest.

Panicked, I tried to push his leg off mine, but the movement woke him up instead.

His deep, husky voice rumbled above me, “Don’t move.”

I froze. “W-what’s wrong?”

He rubbed my waist in a way that made his voice drop even lower. “I’ve got an erection. Give me a moment.”

I blushed fiercely, paralyzed with embarrassment. After a long pause, he finally let me go, and I bolted to the bathroom, desperate to escape.

When I came back, he’d returned to his usual composed self, wearing that same cool expression.

The next morning, I found myself in his arms again.

This time, I resigned myself to it. I just got up, acted as if it was nothing unusual, and went about my day. He remained his usual indifferent self and didn’t comment on it either.

Two weeks later, the weather finally cleared, and my injuries had mostly healed. The faint scar on my neck was the only reminder, and even that would fade with time.

After much pleading, Zachary finally agreed to let me go out for some fresh air.

He told me my injuries were the result of a scuffle with the other man—the one who’d convinced me to leave. When I’d hesitated to go abroad with him, he’d tried to drag me out of the country by force, leading to the accidental injuries. Then he’d fled, leaving me to face the consequences.

I wasn’t going out alone, though. A young maid and a male bodyguard dressed in casual clothes accompanied me, looking for all the world like three friends out shopping together.

While we were in the mall, I noticed a strange man. He was standing a short distance away, holding up a photo and asking people around him, “Excuse me, have you seen this girl? She’s my fiancée.”

It looked like he was searching for someone. Intrigued, I took a step toward him to get a better look.

Before I could get closer, the maid beside me grabbed my hand, her face suddenly pale and her eyes wide with panic.

“Are you okay?” I asked, noticing her unsettled expression.to get through the night on my own?