Chapter 165 Secretary and Aide
June
I watch Hermes laugh and chat with his friends, his eyes lighting up, his whole presence commanding the room—but he doesn’t glance my way once. My fists ball at my sides.
At least he’s alive. At least he didn’t die in his sleep.
I whisper to myself, over and over, trying to calm the storm in my chest. But it’s no use. My frustration swells until I can’t stay still. I have to leave the ward. How can he forget me? Me? I was there. I was with him until the last moment. We professed our love. And now he wakes up after a week, a whole week, and he doesn’t remember me.
"Hey, June. Are you okay?" Ted’s voice pulls me back as he rolls softly into the hallway.
I pace, eyes darting to the white ceiling, hands trembling. "I’m not okay, Ted. I… I don’t understand. How can this be real? How can he forget just me?"
Ted rolls closer, matching my frantic pace as best as he can in his wheelchair. "June… listen. We don’t know that yet. The thing is called selective memory loss. I didn’t—"
I let out a harsh, deranged laugh, pressing a hand to my hip. "So you’re telling me… he chose to forget me?"
Ted shakes his head quickly. "No. No, not at all. He’ll come around. With time."
I scoff, a bitter little sound. Of course. Of course he’ll remember everyone else but me.
Just then, I see Hermes’s father barreling down the hallway, his face a mix of relief and joy.
"Is he awake, Ted?" he asks, breathless.
Ted beams. "Yes, sir. And it seems he recognized some faces."
Lucien steps into the room, his shoulders squared, a smile breaking across his face.
I let out a long, shaky sigh. "You see… Hermes’s father doesn’t even regard me. How am I supposed to explain things? Hermes and I never even took any couple photos, or—or…" My words stumble as I bite my lip, the frustration and fear knotting in my throat.
Ted gently takes my hands in his, grounding me. "June… be calm. Remember, this is temporary."
I sniff, letting a small shudder escape, and my eyes flicker toward the ward. "We could just tell him everything, right? That would be easier, wouldn’t it?"
Ted shakes his head slowly, his face falling. "The specialist doctor advised we don’t force his memory on him."
"What?" I snap, eyes narrowing, disbelief slicing through me.
Ted takes a breath, calm, steady. "June… forcing him to remember could cause psychological trauma. The best approach is to let him regain memories naturally. We don’t rush it. We don’t pressure him. He needs to remember in his own time, in his own way. If we push, it could set him back—or worse, create new issues."
I stare at him, letting his words sink in, my mind spinning with frustration and helplessness. I want him to remember. I want him to know me, to know us. But I have to wait. Somehow, I have to wait.
I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting. Space. Of course. Give him space. As if my heart wasn’t already breaking for it.
Later, Lucien called me aside. I followed him to a quiet corner of the hospital. "June," he said, voice calm but firm, "thank you for taking care of my son these past days. You’ve done more than anyone could ask."
I bit my lip, shaking my head. "I need nothing. I’m just happy… Hermes is alive. At least he remembers people." I couldn’t help the small, aching sigh. "I’m… I’m in love with him, and he… he loved me too. Until the surgery."
Lucien nodded slowly, understanding but cautious. "I get it. But I don’t want you introducing yourself as his lover—not yet."
I blinked, dumbfounded. "I… what?"
He smiled faintly. "I can offer you a permanent position at our Canada branch. I’ll hire someone else to oversee him during recovery. You—well, you can continue your role with him, but discreetly."
I opened my mouth to protest, but Ted’s voice cut in before I could. "June is the best help Hermes could have. The doctors recommend her presence. It’s helping him recover."
I exhaled, relief flooding through me, silently thanking Ted for stepping in. Lucien looked skeptical for a beat but nodded. "If that’s best for Hermes, then I agree."
I nodded, grateful, and whispered a quiet, heartfelt "Thank you" to Ted.
He smiled. "It’s nothing. Are you okay with continuing to care for him… without revealing your past?"
I nodded again, but hesitated. "And… what will I be to him now?"
Ted grinned. "Secretary and aide. That’s it. Your presence matters more than a title."
I swallowed hard. Secretary and aide. Not ideal. Not the love I had dreamed of. But better than being pushed away entirely. Better than losing him again.
I exhaled, gripping the edge of the counter, willing my heart to steady. Somehow, somehow, this was enough… for now.
____
After everyone left, the room felt too still, and white. It was quiet but too loud with the sound of my heartbeat.
I kept my eyes on the bag I was packing—his spare clothes, the fruit basket someone sent. I tried to focus on the mundane things, because if I looked at him too long I’d fall apart.
"Um… excuse me?"
His voice was soft and gentle. Then I felt a light tap on my arm.
I turned.
Hermes stood beside me, a little unsteady on his feet, hospital gown hanging awkwardly on his tall frame. His eyes were innocent—too innocent for someone who once looked at me like I was oxygen.
"Hey," he said quietly, "do I… know you?"
That was it. That was the knife.
I let out a sad, breathy laugh. I couldn’t help it. It was so painfully absurd. “Uhm—I should introduce myself." I forced a smile and bowed my head a little, like some desperate intern greeting a CEO for the first time. “I’m your appointed secretary and aide. I’ll be helping you while you recuperate."
His lips parted, but no sound came out. His expression tightened—subtle, but unmistakable. A flash of disappointment. As if… he’d been hoping I’d be someone else.
I didn’t know whether to be relieved or destroyed by that.
A knock snapped us both out of it. The door swung open and the male nurse, Alex, walked in with his usual bright grin.
“Mr. Hermes, I’m glad to see you awake." He turned to me. “Alright June. Let’s go on that date. Remember? You said when he wakes up, we’re going for lunch."
I blinked—then laughed. Right. That stupid, playful deal I’d made to keep myself sane.
“You’re right, Alex. I owe you one. When I’m done—I’ll—"
“Where are you going?"
Hermes’s voice cut through the room like a blade.
I turned. He was standing straighter now, arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable but firm.
“She’s not going anywhere," he said flatly.
I froze.
What… was that attitude just now?