?Chapter 1222:


    Satisfied, he followed her to the door of her room.


    They’d been sleeping separately since moving in.


    He’d wanted to close that distance, but every time, he hesitated—afraid of pushing too far.


    Tonight, he stood there again, torn.


    Before he could decide, Ste smiled, wished him goodnight, and closed the door.


    The sound of the lock clicking hit him harder than he expected. For a second, irritation red in his chest.


    After everything he’d done for her, why was she still holding him at arm’s length?


    Weren’t they getting married soon? What was she afraid of?


    He clenched his fists, then forced himself to breathe and let it go. Just a little more patience. Once they were married, everything would fall into ce.


    Marc looked down at the empty ss bowl in his hand, and a slow, satisfied smile curved his lips.


    The doctor had been clear—the medication needed to be taken daily for at least six months to suppress her memories. Six months. It didn’t sound longpared to a lifetime.


    He was ready to wait—ready to make sure the name “William,” and everything tied to it, vanishedpletely from Ste’s mind.


    The wedding invitations had already gone out. Everything was moving quickly—almost too quickly—but just as Marc intended. Over the weekend, he arranged a “sentimental trip,” each stop carefully chosen to deepen her attachment to him before the ceremony.


    The first destination was their old university campus.


    The university grounds hadn’t changed much. Rows of old ne trees lined the path behind the library, their wide branches swayingzily in the afternoon breeze. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, scattering dappled patterns across the familiar stone walkway.


    Hand in hand, they walked along the shadedne behind the library. Marc’s tone was easy, touched with nostalgia. “Stel, remember this spot?”


    He stopped beneath a tall ne tree, tapping the bark lightly. “You were carrying a stack of books so high I could barely see your face. Then you tripped over a rock, and everything fell. I rushed to help.”


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    Ste looked at the tree, and for a moment the memory reyed vividly—papers fluttering across the ground, the sunlight catching on a young man’s white shirt as he crouched beside her, cheeks flushed, eyes filled with nervous warmth.


    That was her first time meeting Marc.


    A small smile curved her lips. “I remember. You were more nervous than I was. Your hands were shaking so much you almost stuffed my notes into your own bag.”


    Marc chuckled softly, masking the flicker of satisfaction in his chest. “Yeah, I was hopeless,” he said with a self-deprecating grin. “I wanted to impress you, but I only made a fool of myself. You must’ve thought I was an idiot.”


    She shook her head gently, her eyes bright with reminiscence. “No. I thought you were… cute.”


    Her voice was soft,ced with affection that made Marc’s heart ease.


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