After Losing His Memory, He Begged My Forgiveness Novel Chapter 6 – I Made You Cry
The sound of the doorbell cut through the silence like a blade.
John stood frozen, still holding the side of his head. Glass shards sparkled at his feet, forgotten. Lily set her daughter down and gently guided her toward the bedroom.
“Stay inside, baby. Mommy will be right back.”
She waited for the soft click of the bedroom door before turning to John.
“Sit down. Don’t move.”
She stepped over the broken glass carefully and opened the door.
It was Melissa.
Of course it was.
She stood there in a tight black dress and oversized sunglasses, acting like she hadn’t cried her eyeliner off earlier.
“You didn’t answer my texts,” she said, lips trembling with a practiced pout. “So I—”
“Leave.” Lily didn’t let her in. She didn’t even raise her voice.
Melissa faltered. “John’s still sick. He shouldn’t be here with you. You’re just confusing him.”
Lily leaned against the frame. “Funny. He remembered cheating on me the moment you showed up.”
Melissa blanched.
Lily lowered her voice, deadly calm. “If you come here again, I will get a restraining order. And I will make it stick.”
Melissa hesitated, then backed off, throwing a parting shot over her shoulder. “You’re not the only one he ever loved.”
The door shut before she could finish.
Inside, Lily found John sitting on the couch, staring blankly at the broken glass on the floor like it held all the answers in the world. His face was pale. There was blood at his temple.
“You’re bleeding,” she muttered.
He looked up at her, dazed. “You… you were crying. That night. I saw it.”
“What?”
“That night. After I told you she was just a girl. You didn’t scream. You didn’t fight. You just… cried. I walked away like a coward.”
Lily swallowed.
He covered his face with both hands. “I made you cry. And I didn’t even care.”
She walked to the kitchen, grabbed the first aid kit, and came back. Wordless, she sat on the coffee table across from him and dabbed his wound.
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t look at her.
“I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror,” he whispered. “But now I do. And I hate him.”
Lily’s hand paused.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Not to win her back. Not to get sympathy. Just… sorry.
“You said that last time,” she replied.
“I didn’t mean it then.”
She pulled back, closed the kit, and stood up. “Sleep on the couch tonight. Tomorrow, you’re going back to the hospital.”
He nodded.
As she turned off the lights, he said softly, “Does she… does she really hate me?”
Lily didn’t answer.
She went to tuck her daughter in, kissed her forehead, and stared at the ceiling for a long time after the lights were out—wondering why that question hurt so much more than the apology ever did.
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