Shards of Memory [English - Under Revision]

Chapter 20: Rollercoaster

Skylane

I thought he was steering me toward the garden, but at the last second he tugged my hand in the opposite direction.

"Wait—where are we going?" I asked, half-tripping to keep up with his long strides.

"To the car," he said like it was obvious.

"The car?" I squeaked. "Blaise, I'm not even sure I'm supposed to be leaving the house yet—"

"Relax." He glanced back at me with a grin that could get away with murder. "You've been cooped up too long. A little drive won't kill you. Doctor's orders: happiness is medicine."

"Pretty sure the doctor didn't say that."

"Then I'll write it in her handwriting and make it official." He winked, opening the passenger door and guiding me in like some old-fashioned gentleman. My bag ended up on his lap when he slid into the driver's seat. The sight of Blaise Pollington with a pink shoulder bag across his knees should've been illegal.

I buckled in, side-eyeing him. "Fine. Where exactly are you taking me?"

He started the engine, the low growl filling the driveway. "Secret."

My brows shot up. "Secret? You can't just kidnap me. That's... literally illegal."

"Relax, princess," he teased, eyes sparkling as he typed something into the GPS.

I leaned closer, trying to peek at the screen. "Then at least tell me. What if I don't like surprises?"

He slid a hand between me and the GPS, blocking my view. "Come on, Sky. It's a surprise. Stick to the rules: just relax."

I narrowed my eyes. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Obviously." He smirked, pulling onto the road. "What's the point of planning a surprise if you ruin it by snooping? Just sit back. If you want to sleep, sleep. I'll wake you when we're there."

Butterflies tangled in my stomach again. The nerve of him—telling me to trust him, like it was the easiest thing in the world. And yet... with the hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of his hand on the wheel, I felt the edge of my nerves soften.

"Fine," I muttered, leaning my head against the seat. "But if this turns out to be something ridiculous, I'm blaming you."

His laugh filled the car, warm and unguarded. "Then blame me. I can take it. Sky. You'll see soon enough."

I huffed, trying to act unimpressed, but curiosity buzzed under my skin like static. He laughed, a sound too bright for me to stay annoyed. His hand darted out and mussed my hair—the braids I'd spent forever perfecting. "Blaise!" I snapped, swatting him. "Do you know how long that took? You're impossible."

"Relax. Still gorgeous," he teased, smirk firmly in place. "Just trust me on this one."

"Really? Only on this one? So I shouldn't trust you on anything else?" I fired back.

The smirk vanished. His face shuttered into something unreadable.

Guilt stabbed me. I nudged his arm. "Hey. I was kidding. Of course, I trust you. I wouldn't be here otherwise."

He gave a small smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. My stomach twisted. I turned to the window, desperate for another topic to cut through the awkward air.

The car stopped at a red light. A group of teenagers crossed the street, uniforms loose, bags slung carelessly. Something about them—normal, loud, alive—made me pause.

I turned back to Blaise, a frown tugging at my lips.

Blaise

Her stare burned into me. I gripped the wheel tighter. "What's with that look?" I asked, trying not to sound nervous.

Her voice was slow, deliberate. "You. Do you really think I wouldn't remember?"

My blood iced. Notice what? Did she—did she remember?

My chest tightened until every breath felt like glass.

"You always mess things up, Blaise. " she said firmly, eyes steady. 

My stomach flipped. She remembers. God, she remembers. The day I'd been dreading, the reckoning I wasn't ready for—it was here. I hadn't had time. Time to show her how much I loved her, to remind her why. If her memories came back now, all she'd see was how I'd hurt her.

I pulled over, hands shaking so hard I had to grip the wheel until my knuckles whitened. My throat burned. "Sky, look—how do I say this—Fuck, this is driving me insane—"

"Don't swear."

Her glare cut into me, sharp and disappointed.

I wanted to laugh. Of course. Of course, that's what she meant. Not the past. Not the pain. Just school. Attendance. Rules.

My chest caved in relief and cracked with something crueler at the same time.

I faced her, reached for her hands. She let me. Her eyes on mine made it hard to breathe. "I'm sorry. I know this doesn't make it right, but I'm sorry. If you can't forgive me, I'll understand."

She lifted one hand. I closed my eyes, bracing for the slap I deserved.

Instead—fingers in my hair. A soft laugh. "Apology accepted. Just don't do it again."

The words hit me like sunlight through storm clouds. I smiled, shaky, and pulled her into a hug. Too tight, too desperate.

"Next time you do, you'll face punishment," she added, teasing.

I pulled back, grin tugging at my mouth despite the ache in my chest. "Oh yeah? What kind of punishment?"

Her cheeks flushed. "Detention."

I blinked. "Detention? That's it?"

She sat up straighter, all queen again. "Yes, detention. Don't forget I'm practically royalty at school. When I'm back, I'll be stricter with you than anyone else. I won't let your future get ruined—not because of me. So promise me, Blaise. No more skipping."

I swallowed hard, nodding. "I promise." My voice came out smaller than I wanted.

Because the truth was—school wasn't what I feared ruining.

Later, when she finally drifted asleep beside me, her hand still tangled in mine, I let the thoughts bleed out.

Do you have other sins to confess, Blaise?

Yes. Too many.

I pictured her eyes—the way they once softened as she looked at me, before closing with tears I couldn't stop. Now those same eyes opened blank, without warmth, without recognition. She was still Skylane, but not my Skylane. Not the girl who had loved me.

Fear clawed at me. Fear that when all her memories returned, so would the pain I gave her. Fear she'd hate me. Avoid me. Leave me. Forget me for real this time.

My throat burned. I laughed bitterly, tears stinging.

Karma. That's what this was. Every ache she had felt before—I would feel now. Tenfold.

I didn't fight the tears. Let them fall, hot and relentless. People always told me guys don't cry. That crying makes you weak.

But why shouldn't we? Why shouldn't I?

I was hurting. Because I loved her. Because she was my first and only. Because if she walked away tomorrow, I'd wait a lifetime for her to come back.

If fate decided we weren't meant to be, then I didn't want another ending. I didn't want anyone else. She was it. My first. My last. My only.

And God help me, I would fight every day—through her silence, through her anger, through the blankness of her stare—to make her remember.

To make her love me again.