"You''re disturbing Mavis! She needs rest," Portia said sharply. "She hasn''t fully recovered. She''s actually happier now she doesn''t remember you. Why are you here tormenting her?"


    Uriah slipped on his jacket but lingered, eyes fixed on Mavis. "She remembers all of you. Everyone but me." The unfairness gnawed at him.


    Portia looked him up and down, unimpressed. "Maybe you ought to ask yourself why that is. What''s the point of trying to force her? She''s not even well yet. Why keep bothering her?"


    "Whether her memory loss is real or she''s faking it, doesn''t that tell you she doesn''t want anything to do with you?" she continued. "Mr. Stewart, you were always insisting she keep her distance, always worried about appearances. Now that she''s finally forgotten you, isn''t this what you wanted all along?"


    "And let''s not forget, Mavis kept her word. She said after thisst mission, she was done and she''s paid the price for it. Maybe it''s time to let her move on."


    Portia held his gaze, unwavering. "I heard your family''s already searching for a suitable match for you, Mr. Stewart. I doubt you''ll have time to worry about Mavis any longer anyway." The usation hung heavy in the air.


    Uriah''s brow creased. Portia had a point. He knew in his heart that if Mavis no longer remembered him, it was probably her way of cutting all ties. Still, resentment twisted inside him a hollow ache he couldn''t shake, as if some vital piece had been ripped away. He hated the feeling.


    That was why he''d haunted the hospital, hoping she''d recall something—anything— about him. Deep down, he knew it was selfish, that he might be slowing her recovery, making her unhappy. Maybe forgetting truly was best for her. If she forgot


    it all, she''d never remember how coldly he''d pushed her away.


    "Mr. Stewart, you can leave now," Portia said crisply. "Mavis is being


    discharged today and she''ll be n


    staying at my ce for a while. I''ll take care of her." The message wa unmistakable: he wasn''t needed.


    Uriah hesitated, ncing from Portia to Mavis. "I''m her mentor," he muttered. "It''s only right that I look after her. She cane with me—"


    "I don''t want to go with you," Mavis broke in, her brow furrowed. "We barely know each other."


    Her words hit Uriah like a punch to the chest. Barely knew each other.


    "That''s settled then," Portia interjected. "She wants toe with me. I''ll look after her. You''re a busy man, Mr. Stewart; best leave Mavis''s well-being to me from here on out."


    "And you should really stop bothering her, Portia continued, unyielding. "Just as you always told her to keep her distance from you, now it''s your turn to keep your distance from her. It''ll be better for both of you."


    Uriah fell silent, shoulders heavy, staring at Mavis. She didn''t object, didn''t even nce his way. It was as if she truly didn''t know him at all. As if he didn''t matter.


    II


    "Mr. Stewart, you should go now," Portia urged again. "Even if there was never anything between you two, if you''re moving forward with


    an arranged marriage, keep MR


    out of it. No woman wants to,pete with the ghost of a past she doesn''t understand."