During that month of injury, Keegan realized this, but he never corrected Jaylene.
His preferences were crystal clear.
If Jaylene had any sense at all, she would have noticed.
Yet, she still clung to that idealized version of Keegan, simply because that was the Keegan she desired.
Besides, who in their right mind would willingly give banned substances to someone they cared about? This shallow, self-serving infatuation couldn't be considered love; it was nothing more than despicable possessiveness.
Since regaining his memory, Keegan saw things with clarity.
He recalled the days when he was bedridden due to his severe injury.
Each time the nurse tended to his wounds, Jaylene stood nearby, her brow furrowed not out of fear, but out of disgust.
At that time, he couldn't recall Stella.
Jaylene had convinced him she was his lover, but deep down, he didn't believe it.
How could his supposed lover recoil at the sight of his injuries? Though this memory was later erased by the hypnotist, now that he thought about it again, it only reinforced his suspicions.
Even during their fiercest arguments, Stella never abandoned him in sickness.
The Keegan Jaylene adored was noble, proud, seemingly untouchable, adorned with a golden aura.
But the Keegan Stella loved was just an ordinary man.
She embraced his strengths and accepted his flaws.
He had experienced Stella's love firsthand, so how could he be blinded by Jaylene's counterfeit affection? Keegan kissed Stella's cheek and whispered softly, "Stella, I have only one heart, and it belongs solely to you.
I love you." With that, Keegan's ears reddened slightly.
Expressing love wasn't his forte.
He used to believe actions spoke louder than words.
Little did he know, men and women approached love differently.
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