?Chapter 1218:


    Sensing her hesitation, Marc pulled up a chair and sat beside her, speaking with deliberate calm. “Oh, and the doctor mentioned something else. While you were in thea, your brain cells stayed unusually active. He said you were dreaming almost the entire time.”


    Dreaming?


    Ste’s eyes widened in surprise. She couldn’t recall dreaming at all—only an endless, empty void.


    “The doctor mentioned that being asleep for such a long time might blur your senses,” Marc continued. “You might start remembering things that don’t really belong to you. Have you had any shes like thattely?”


    Ste flinched at his words, then gave a small nod. “Yes, that’s right…”


    Marc’s tone grew even gentler as he sped her cold hand between his palms. “Then that exins it. Those aren’t real memories, Stel. They’re fragments from your dreams—things your mind confused with reality. Don’t worry. Once you’ve settled back into your normal life, they’ll fade away.”


    She nced down at his hand resting over hers. Warmth spread through her, yet an odd unease stirred inside. Was this restlessness also because of those supposed dreams?


    Marc leaned closer, his eyes steady and sincere. “Stel, you have to trust me. I would never hurt you. I’m the person who’ll always stand by your side. Whatever happens, promise me you’ll tell me first. We’ll face it together, all right?”


    The emotions within Ste tangled until she couldn’t name them. In the end, she simply nodded.


    Because she disliked staying in the hospital, Marc brought her back to the vi that night once her IV was done.


    Once she drifted into sleep, he sat alone in the dimly lit study, the glow of hisputer screen casting shadows across his face. He began searching for the foreign supplier the doctor had mentioned—the one who could provide the memory-suppressing drug.


    If there was truly a way to make sure she never remembered, then he would take it. He refused to live every day waiting for her past to destroy everything he’d built.


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    Each night, she dreamed of a man’s shadow kneeling beneath a sky full of stars—a figure whose warmth and devotion felt achingly familiar. A ring, unlike any she had ever seen before, gleamed between his fingers.


    And every time she woke, an inexplicable ache hollowed out her chest. It was as if she’d lost something precious… something she could neither name nor reach.


    During the day, Marc’s tender care—his constant attention, his gentle words—should have soothed her. But instead, it filled her with a faint, gnawing guilt.


    She told herself over and over that they were only dreams, illusions conjured by her fragile mind after two years of unconsciousness.


    Marc had exined it countless times: confusion and emotional instability were normal after long-terma recovery. Yet no matter how much she tried to convince herself, that feeling of emptiness refused to fade. Each morning, she woke with her heart tangled in grief she couldn’t exin.


    And gradually, a quiet fear began to bloom inside her—a hesitation toward the uing wedding she had once agreed to so readily.


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