In a world of immense wealth and power, you find yourself entangled in an arranged marriage with Taehyung, a billionaire CEO. The marriage is a desperate attempt to save your family's fortune after your father's crippling losses. However, as secrets...
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Chapter 12
-Taehyung-
"Please, just calm down—"
"I can't! You never mentioned that I'd start losing my memories too. I can't even remember what happened last night. I hurt someone, and it's not okay."
"I get it, but you need to regain your composure first. You can't trigger another episode. So please, take a deep breath."
Clutching my phone, I tried to steady my racing heart by inhaling and exhaling slowly, battling the waves of panic threatening to engulf me. Why does this have to happen to me?
After finally calming my nerves, I glanced out the window, only to find the paparazzi swarming the hotel. They must have caught wind of our situation.
Damn it. Can't I have a moment of peace?
"I'm feeling better now. I'll talk to you later, Kun." I ended the call and shuffled toward my room.
Guilt gnawed at me. The bruise on her arm wasn't just a regular mark. What in the world did I do to her? What if I caused her even more pain? Sharing a space with her is a recipe for disaster; I'll only end up hurting her. Regardless of how I feel about her, she doesn't deserve this from me. Suppressing the rising panic, I focused on calming myself before stepping into the room.
There she was, engrossed in her phone. Her side bangs veiled her face, bathed in the gentle morning sunlight that filtered through the windows. In that moment, she looked ethereal, yet my emotions were a chaotic mess. Why do I harbor this inexplicable hate? She's lovely and kind, so why do I feel an unexplainable surge of anger whenever she's around? I can't stand her, and I don't even know why.
I reached for my bag, rifling through it to find my stash of panic attack pills. I can't afford to be paralyzed by panic all day.
"Can we just leave already? There's nothing we can do with those relentless paparazzi tailing us," she muttered, raising her head to meet my gaze. The sunlight lent a lighter hue to her brown eyes.
"What do you suggest then? We need to feed them enough tea to make our fake wedding believable." I busied myself with brewing some coffee using the machine on the table.
"Ugh, spending time with you is not my idea of fun," she commented, brushing her hair back, and I couldn't help but notice she had covered up the bruise.
A pang of guilt hit me like a ton of bricks. How did I end up hurting her? Why can't I recall it? Was it really me who caused her pain?
Suppressing my irritation, I rolled my eyes at her remark. "Trust me, I'm not thrilled about it either. Anyway, there's a famous sightseeing spot nearby. We can pretend to be a couple and get some pictures taken. After that, we head home."
