I Pretended To Be His Crush For Three Years Chapter 21

I Pretended To Be His Crush For Three Years Chapter 21

Nora held him.

His body was rigid at first, then slowly softened. He rested his head against her shoulder, his breath hot

against the hollow of her neck.

“Nora,” he said, his voice muffled against her shoulder.

“Mm.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“Then don’t.”

“But the system-”

“I’ll talk to it.”

He pulled back and stared at her, his eyes filled with disbelief.

“Talk to it? How?”

“I don’t know.” Nora answered honestly. “But I don’t care.”

She cupped his face in her hands and looked into his eyes.

“Reid. Listen to me. You told me not to let you go. I won’t. You told me to fight for you. I will. You said love is instinct-so I’m going to trust that your instinct will win.”

“The system can erase your memories. It can’t erase your heart.”

He looked up, his eyes reddening. His lips parted, as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

Nora felt his hand slowly tighten in her palm, his fingertips slipping between her fingers, like a drowning man clutching the last piece of driftwood.

Silence spread through the room. Outside, Milan’s night wind tapped against the window glass.

Then she heard him draw a deep breath and release it slowly. That breath carried a sense of release-as if he’d finally set down something he’d been carrying in his chest for far too long.

Nora cupped his face, looked into his eyes, and said, word by word: “Because your heart is here. With me.”

The next morning, Nora didn’t go to class.

She got up early, changed into sharp, clean clothes, stuffed the notebook into her bag, and walked out the

door.

Nyssa’s flight was at two in the afternoon. Reid’s agent had booked him on the same plane-boarding time,

one-thirty.

When she arrived at his apartment, he was already packed.

He stood in the middle of the living room, wearing a black coat, his hair combed neatly, a suitcase at his feet.

He looked at her, and his eyes were complicated.

“I wasn’t planning to go,” he said.

“Your suitcase is packed.”

“The system made me pack.” He frowned, a nameless frustration in his voice. “When I woke up this morning,

I found myself already standing in front of the closet. My hands were holding clothes, and a voice in my head

was saying-bring this one, bring that one.”

Nora walked over, laid his suitcase flat, and unzipped it.

The clothes inside were folded neatly-exactly the way he’d always packed.

“Look.” She crouched down and took the clothes out one by one. “Your body did what it’s always done. The

system can make you pack, but it can’t change your habits.”

He watched her from behind-watched her crouched on the floor, folding his clothes. He was silent for a long

time.

“Nora.”

“Mm.”

“Why are you so good to me?”

Nora’s hands paused.

“I’m not being good to you.” She kept her head down, kept folding. “I’m just giving you what I’ve owed you for three years.”

“What do you owe me?”

“The truth.” Nora looked up at him. “And a choice.”

“What choice?”

“The choice should be in your hands. Not the system’s.” She said. “The system told you to love me-you didn’t

have to. The system told you to forget me-you don’t have to forget.”

“But I already forgot…”

“You didn’t.” Nora stood up and walked to him. “Your body remembers. Your heartbeat remembers. Your

handwriting remembers. That notebook-every page was written by your own hand. A person without a heart

couldn’t have written those things.”

His eyes reddened.

“Nora.”

“Mm.”

“I don’t want to go.” He said it again, and this time his voice was firmer.

“Then don’t.”

“But the system…”

“I told you. I’ll talk to it.” Nora looked at him. “Do you trust me?”

He looked at her for a long, long time.

Then he said one word.

“Yes.”