Amnesia Erased Luna’s Pain and Love Chapter 07

Amnesia Erased Luna’s Pain and Love Chapter 07 Forgotten Love

The nurse hesitated, clearly wanting to say something, but in the end, she left the room in silence.

The room had only just quieted when Florence’s phone rang.

Fumbling to answer it, on the other end came a voice-old, yet strong and full of life.

“Florence, it’s Errol.”

Florence froze.

She remembered reading about Errol Storm in her journal-he seemed to be the only member of the Storms who had ever shown her genuine kindness.

“Florence, I’ve heard everything that’s happened lately,” Errol said with gentle affection. “You’ve been through so much. Since Baldwin married you, he has a responsibility to treat you right. Don’t worry, sweetheart-I got your back.”

It was the first time since losing her memory that Florence felt real concern, real love from

someone.

Her nose stung, eyes prickling with the urge to cry. “Thank you, Errol. I’m fine, really.”

“You always try to handle pain alone.” He sighed. “It breaks my heart. You were supposed to be our star, cherished and loved. But after you were taken away, you suffered so much. Your parents didn’t even bother to care. They treated that adopted daughter better than they ever treated you. And Baldwin … that boy’s an idiot.”

He took a breath and continued, voice tinged with frustration, “All these years you’ve given so much to him. He’s picky and impossible to please, and yet you hunted down rare ingredients just to cook his favorite meals. When the family’s ceremonial war banner was torn and stained, you spent six months tracking down the materials across a dozen clans and repaired it by hand. And that time he was ambushed during a rogue attack-you took the blow for him. That claw nearly killed you. You spent three days in the hospital and barely survived. And now? Now he turns cold, like you never mattered at all. He’s blind to the Moon Goddess’s blessing. One day, he’s going to regret this.”

Florence lay still, staring at the stark white ceiling. She couldn’t remember any of it, but just hearing it made her chest ache in pulses of invisible pain.

“All right, I’ve got to head in for my tests,” Errol said at last. “Remember, if you ever need anything, you’ve got me.”

As soon as the call ended, the door burst open.

Baldwin stood in the doorway, sharp suit pressed to perfection, but his eyes were frozen over with disdain.

“First, you stage an allergic reaction and a suicide attempt. Then you run to Grandpa to cry for help?” he sneered. “Florence, is this really the only way you know how to get my attention?”

She wanted to explain, but when she saw the bitter mockery in his eyes, she said softly, “I didn’t do it on purpose. I forgot I’m allergic to almonds.”

“You forgot?” Baldwin gave a cold laugh. “What’s next-are you going to tell me you forgot your name too?”

Florence gazed back at him in silence.

Because he was right. She had forgotten everything.

Forgotten the girl who had once loved him to the point of self-destruction. Forgotten the heartbreak that had burned her soul hollow. Forgotten the overwhelming, bone-deep devotion she’d once had for this man.

But none of that made it to her lips.

Maybe it was because of pressure from Errol, but Baldwin stayed. He said he would take care of her. But his version of care was a kind of punishment.

When her IV line backflowed, he didn’t notice. When scalding water spilled on her hand, he didn’t move. Even when she collapsed trying to get out of bed, he ignored her entirely, too busy on the phone with his assistant. “Did Ursa get her bandages changed? Good, send the best scar cream over.”

And when he finally hung up, he turned and added with a sneer, “Werewolves aren’t supposed to be this fragile. Don’t think you’ll get pity from me by playing weak, Florence. Whatever you do, I’m never going to love you.”

But she wasn’t faking it. She really was weak.

Each day, as her mate rejected her again and again, her wolf was fading. Her strength was draining away.

Still, she said nothing.

Because she knew-deep down-that even if she dropped dead in front of him, Baldwin wouldn’t even blink.

A hollow smile tugged at her lips. And the cruelest part? Even though she didn’t love him anymore, his indifference still made it hard to breathe.

She couldn’t fathom how the girl she used to be-the girl who had once adored Baldwin so desperately-had survived years of this torment.

Outside the window, a leaf floated to the ground. Suddenly, she remembered the final line in her journal.

“Baldwin, if one day I no longer love you, it’s only because my heart has finally died.”

Looking back, the Florence who wrote those words must have died long ago, somewhere in the countless nights spent being ignored and forgotten.