Chapter 10: The Forgotten Memory

Chapter 10: The Forgotten Memory
The night breeze slipped through the half-open car window. More than twenty minutes had passed since they had arrived at the restaurant, and Sarai hadn’t said a single word. She just stared out at the horizon, where the city lights twinkled like they belonged to some distant universe. David glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his hands relaxed on the steering wheel, but alert to every one of her movements.

He had learned to read her in the short time they’d been interacting. He knew when something bothered her, when her silence was louder than her words. And at that moment, Sarai was full of questions. He could feel it.

Suddenly, without taking her eyes off the view, she broke the silence.

—I didn’t want my brother to see you at the house. I don’t want him near you. Not because I’m worried about you —she clarified quickly, still not looking at him— but because I know how he is. He can smell money before perfume, and once he sets his eyes on something, he doesn’t let go.

David narrowed his eyes, watching her.

—That sounds reasonable. I don’t blame him… but I’m not interested in having him be part of this either.

—This —Sarai repeated, as if tasting the word— Can we talk about that? About this?

David looked at her, waiting.

She took a deep breath.

—You said you wanted to set a wedding date. That the contract had to move forward. But I still don’t understand why you’re doing all this —she paused, then looked straight at him— Why me, David? Why did you create this contract with me?

David remained silent for a few seconds. His face didn’t change, but there was a different spark in his eyes—something more intimate.

—I’ve told you before, —he replied calmly— because you matter to me. More than you think.

Sarai frowned.

—That’s not an answer. You’re a Donovan. You could have any woman, sign a contract with someone way more convenient, with no family issues, no sick mother, no freeloading brother. Why are you here, doing this, putting up with all this?

David held her gaze. He didn’t avoid the question, but he didn’t seem ready to give a direct answer either.

—This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you, —he finally said.

Sarai looked confused.

—What?

He smiled, revealing nothing more.

—You don’t remember. But I do.

She studied him, trying to figure out if he was serious.

—Where did we meet? When?

David shook his head gently.

—That’s not important now. What matters is that I know who you are, even if you don’t.

—You’re telling me you’ve known me from before? —she asked, a mix of skepticism and curiosity in her voice.

—Exactly, —he nodded, his fingers absently touching the base of his glass— And maybe you don’t remember it now, but one day you will. Until then… I don’t need you to understand. I just need you to trust me.

Sarai watched him silently, her jaw tight.

—It’s hard to trust someone who doesn’t give straight answers.

—Then call it intuition, —he said— Call it instinct. Call it madness, if you want. But I’m here for you, Sarai. And it’s not out of charity, or entertainment, or because I’m bored of rich women who don’t know what they want. I’m here because you’re different. And I knew that long before this contract.

She lowered her gaze, unsettled. Everything about David was a mystery. He had a way of speaking that made you feel safe and unsafe at the same time. As if he knew more than he said. As if he could see right through you.

—And what if I never remember whatever it is you say happened? —she asked quietly.

—Then I’ll make it count now. I’ll create new memories with you. Because what matters to me isn’t the past, Sarai… it’s the future.

The silence between them was heavy, but not uncomfortable. She looked out the window, searching for something in the distance. Maybe an escape. Maybe an answer.

—And when do you want to get married? —she finally asked.

David leaned slightly toward her, never breaking eye contact.

—As soon as you’re ready. But I don’t want to keep one foot in and one foot out. I want a real commitment. Even if the contract says one thing, I don’t intend to live this as a deal. I want us to live it as a chance.

—A chance?

—To build something. To start something different. To take care of you, —he added, and his tone shifted slightly, becoming more intimate— To be here.

Sarai pressed her lips together. For the first time in a long while, she felt truly seen. Not just her image, or her family situation, or her emotional debt. Her.

But that same feeling scared her. Because what if she couldn’t return it? What if he was just projecting something onto her that wasn’t real?

—Don’t promise more than you can keep, —she whispered.

David slowly extended his hand, not touching hers, just placing it on the table, close.

—Then I promise nothing. But I’ll stay. If you let me stay.

The waiter appeared just then, asking if they wanted anything else. Sarai looked at him and shook her head. She wasn’t hungry. There was a knot in her stomach.

David paid the bill without hesitation. They walked together to the parking lot. The night air was cool and light, but something between them burned fiercely. He stepped forward, opening the car door for her.

—Can I take you home?

—No, —she replied firmly— I’d rather take a cab. I don’t want my brother to see you yet. I don’t want you to become a target.

David nodded.

—Alright. But promise me you’ll talk to me tomorrow. We can move forward with the date, if you’re ready.

Sarai hesitated. Then finally, she nodded.

—Tomorrow.

David watched her walk away, get into the taxi, and disappear down the street. But the distance didn’t hurt. Because she didn’t know it yet… but time was already on his side.

And he had waited many years to be where he was now.

The clock struck 11:47 p.m. when Sarai finally closed her bedroom door. The silence in the house was absolute. Only the soft hum of the old ceiling fan echoed through the heavy night air, spinning slowly as if dragging itself forward. In her mother’s room at the end of the hallway, the faint sound of assisted breathing was the only sign she was still fighting. And beyond that, in the small living room, Erick was likely asleep on the couch, a half-finished beer in hand and the TV lights flickering across his closed eyelids.

Sarai sat on the edge of her bed without taking off her shoes. Her muscles felt tense, her throat tight. What had been a dense conversation full of unspoken implications now turned into a whirlwind of thoughts she couldn’t quiet.

Am I really going to marry David Donovan?

She covered her face with both hands, rubbing her eyes. Not from physical exhaustion, but from emotional fatigue. The question wasn’t new, but now it weighed more than ever.

She knew what she had agreed to. She had signed that contract with full awareness. She knew the clauses, the terms, the financial benefit it would bring. She knew that with that money, she could secure the treatment her mother so desperately needed, pull Erick out of his financial hole —even if he dug himself right back in— and maybe, finally, have something she had never known: stability.

But what she hadn’t anticipated… was David.