After I Lost My Memory, My Star Athlete Boyfriend Said We Broke Up Chapter 02

After I Lost My Memory, My Star Athlete Boyfriend Said We Broke Up Chapter 02

A young woman bounded up to Killian, standing on tiptoe to dab sweat from his forehead unabashedly.

Her easy, familiar gesture made it obvious this was far from their first interaction.

Killian bent forward, hands braced on his knees to catch his breath. He turned his head, saw her, and didn’t pull away—he even smiled faintly.

Camille froze mid-step. The floating live comments exploded across her vision.

[Who is this? Camille’s walking over with a towel and gets cut off?!]

[I’m furious! Don’t let it break you, girl! You’ll get revenge later!]

[Killian, mark my words. The smugger you look now, the harder you’ll grovel later.]

Camille stared at the scene for several seconds.

A sharp spike of annoyance hit her. Anyone interrupted mid-task by an interloper would feel the same. But grief never surfaced.

Her assistant noticed where she was gazing and leaned in, voice hushed. “That’s Maren Shawn, one of the newly hired soccer cheerleaders. She’s an international student, way too forward and keeps clinging to Killian. I’ll send her away right now.”

It seemed their unpublicized relationship was common knowledge among their inner circle. So why had Killian lied so plainly to her in the hospital?

“Don’t bother,” Camille said.

Her voice nearly drowned beneath the stadium roar, yet Killian’s head shot up instantly. He steered Maren aside without hesitation and strode toward her, tone sharp.

“We were just messing around. It’s not what you think.” He sounded reluctant to explain, yet forced himself to do so.

The comment stream erupted again.

[Wow, he didn’t even pause to rush over and clarify.]

[Is this a puppy scrambling to beg his owner for forgiveness? I ship them, make up already!]

[Remember when Camille got jealous once? He chased her down three city blocks and blocked her path, saying, “Who else could I possibly love?” That impatience is just an act! He cares more than he lets on!]

Camille curled her fingers tight. She couldn’t reconcile the man standing before her with the Killian described in the comments. Were they even the same person?

She drew a deep breath and spoke coldly. “I don’t care what goes on between you and her. As your agent, I won’t interfere in your private life. But you know the rules: no romantic entanglements before the World Cup.”

Killian’s expression darkened instantly. “I’ll keep that in mind. You’d better stand by your word, too—stay out of my personal life from now on.”

With that, he grabbed Maren’s arm and walked off.

Camille watched his retreating back, her expression hardening.

She drove straight back to her office. When she pushed open the door, reminders of Killian filled every corner.

A framed photo sat on her desk: both wearing team training kits, his arm slung over her shoulder, grinning brightly.

A pair of matching mugs rested beside it; one printed with a cartoon version of Killian, the other with her likeness.

There was also a notebook labeled Killian’s Custom Meal Plan, filled with pages of meticulous notes.

The old Camille had loved him thoroughly, tending to every single detail of his life.

New comments drifted into view.

[This notebook breaks my heart. She started writing it the day she signed him. Nobody knows his likes and dislikes half as well as she does.]

[And don’t forget—she commissioned custom cleats for him, stitched her name inside. Every goal he scored was their shared victory… Camille, don’t you remember any of this?]

Heat suddenly pricked Camille’s eyes, a dull, inexplicable tightness seizing her chest.

She swiped the moisture away, thinking how absurd it was. Why cry over someone she could no longer recall?

The live comments fell silent for a beat before surging forward once more.

[So even without her memories, she still feels sorrow for him?]

[This torture is killing me! Killian, make her remember! If this keeps up I’m dropping the story!]

[Don’t quit! He hasn’t realized how deeply he loves her yet. Once it clicks, he’ll spend every day making amends.]

[All these little things are clues he left behind! Every object reminds her of what she lost!]

[Exactly! She’ll piece her memories back together slowly!]

Camille read the words and let out a bitter huff.

Even if all these clues existed, why did she have to chase the truth? Why must her life forever be tangled up with Killian?

Her assistant knocked and stepped inside. She paused at the sight of Camille’s red-rimmed eyes. “Ms. Logan?”

Camille didn’t look up, her voice quiet yet unwavering. “Clear everything out of my office related to Killian.”

The assistant’s eyes widened. “Everything?”

“Everything.” Camille repeated, her throat rough. “All of it.”

The assistant immediately called two staff members to pack the items.

Camille leaned against her desk and watched, her face impassive.

“Should this one go too?” The assistant held up the handwritten meal plan notebook, hesitant.

Camille turned her gaze away. After a short silence, she said, “Pass it to the nutritionist. Don’t let it go to waste.”

When the office door shut again, nearly half the room stood empty.

Camille bent to tidy scraps of paper scattered on the desk—then the door flew open from outside. She assumed the assistant had returned. “Did you forget something?”

No answer came. An icy tension instantly filled the room.

Camille straightened and turned.

Killian stood framed in the doorway, his face stormy. “Who gave you permission to remove all of this?” he demanded, his voice tight with suppressed anger.