After I Lost My Memory, My Star Athlete Boyfriend Said We Broke Up Chapter 18

After I Lost My Memory, My Star Athlete Boyfriend Said We Broke Up Chapter 18

Several guests recognized him and began murmuring amongst themselves.

Rumors linking Killian and Maren had dominated headlines recently, so his solo appearance at the gala drew quiet, knowing glances from the crowd.

He stopped directly in front of Camille.

His gray-green eyes, usually sharp with arrogance, were now frosted over, raw emotion roiling just

beneath the surface.

“Come outside with me. I need to talk to you.”

“You can say whatever you need to right here.”

Killian suddenly wrapped his fingers around her wrist. The grip wasn’t painful, yet carried unyielding determination.

Camille tugged once but couldn’t break free, acutely aware that dozens of guests were already

watching.

The comment section erupted.

[Grabbing her in front of everyone-this isn’t appropriate at all.]

[No matter how reckless he was before, he never forced her like this in public. He’s completely lost his restraint today.]

[Watch Silas! The young striker is stepping forward!]

Silas advanced half a step. “Senior, let her go.”

Killian didn’t spare him a glance. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Ms. Logan told you to release her.”

1 “Silas.” Camille spoke, her voice quiet yet crystal clear. “It’s fine. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

She turned to Killian. “We can talk in the corridor.”

[Camille stays composed. She won’t drag Silas into this mess.]

[She’s trying to avoid a public spectacle, granting Killian one last shred of dignity.]

(Does he deserve that kindness? Absolutely not.]

They walked out of the ballroom one behind the other, traversing the long corridor and turning into a quiet, deserted alcove. Warm wall sconces stretched their shadows across the floor.

Camille pulled her wrist free, stepped back, and leaned against the wall. “Speak.”

Killian stood facing her, his chest rising and falling far faster than normal. He stared at her, the

muscle in his jaw tightening and releasing repeatedly, before he finally spoke.

“Camille.” His voice sank to a low, throaty rumble. “Look at me.”

Camille met his gaze, her expression unwaveringly calm.

“You once told me all your energy and devotion would only belong to me. Now you do these things for someone else. Have you stopped to consider how that makes me feel?”

Camille held his stare. Turmoil stirred beneath her calm exterior, yet she kept it firmly contained. “What identity are you speaking from, Killian?”

Killian’s breath hitched. “Your boyfriend.”

“I don’t recall having a boyfriend.”

The words drove straight into Killian’s chest like a blade. He froze rigidly, the hand braced against the wall trembling faintly.

“You don’t remember? Then I’ll say it again.” The words were gritted out through clenched teeth, filling the tight space between them. “I’m your boyfriend, Killian Lynn. I am Camille Logan’s

boyfriend.”

“If you’ve forgotten, I’ll stand right here and repeat it until you remember. If you refuse to acknowledge it, I’ll tell you every single day.”

Camille took in his reddened eyes and trembling lips. A dull ache throbbed in her chest once more.

She suppressed the strange twinge and replied evenly. “You can repeat it a thousand times. I still

won’t remember.”

Killian’s hand slid down from the wall and hung limply at his side. He took one step back, then another, until his shoulders met the wall behind him. He leaned against it, tilting his head upward to stare at the ceiling.

Faint music and the clink of glassware drifted from the ballroom. Wall lamp shadows pooled heavily beneath his brows.

“Camille.” His voice spilled out from his tilted throat, raw and broken. “I’ve done countless terrible things, I know that. But you can’t discard me entirely just because I acted foolishly.”

Camille stood beneath the warm sconce light, glow spilling over her shoulders. She said nothing, her fingers curled briefly at her side before relaxing again.

“The gala isn’t over. I’m heading back.” She turned to leave.

“Camille.” Killian’s call chased after her. “If you get any closer to him,” he warned, voice low and dangerous, “I won’t be responsible for what happens.”

Camille brushed off the threat.

She’d taken only a few steps outside the ballroom when a black SUV glided silently to the curb

beside her.

The passenger door swung open. A hand shot out and seized her arm.