Chased by My Possessive Ex (Dylan) novel Chapter 57

Chapter 57

2 Years Later…

DYLAN

“Good morning, Dylan! How’s the shop today?” asked Cynthia, one of my regular customers in the flower shop.

“Everything is doing well, Cynthia. Are you picking up the usual

“Yes, please,” she answered. “How’s your head? Have you been experiencing frequent headaches?” Her voice was laced with

concern.

“Yes, I do. But it’s manageable. Nothing to worry about,” I replied

“I was in the city yesterday, and my friend mentioned this famous neurologist. Maybe he can help you with your situation.” she said.

It’s been two years since I opened this business. And it’s also been two years since the accident. The first two weeks was h3ll. My whole body was sore, and I couldn’t even move a muscle. I’ve been lying down in the hospital bed for two weeks. And what’s worse, I can’t even remember who I am. Thank God, my husband was there to help me get through that accident.

“My doctor here is fine, Cynthia. They’ve been giving me a prescription for the headaches. And besides, I don’t think husband and I can afford it.”

my

“If you can call her a doctor,” she said. “It’s been two years, yet you haven’t even made a single bit of progress? Didn’t she say that you’re going to slowly remember your past if you continue to take the medicine she was giving you? But look how it turned out.”

“You’re overthinking things, Cynthia. The doctor says my condition just needs more time,” I told her with a small smile, trying to sound light and sure. But even as the words slipped out of my mouth, they tasted like a lie.

Because the truth was what she said stayed with me.

Her concern lingered in my chest like a weight I couldn’t shake off. I wanted so badly to believe everything was fine, that I was healing, that I was slowly on my way back to the person I used to be. But there was always that quiet whisper inside me, asking why nothing was changing. Why every morning still felt like waking up in someone else’s life.

I pressed that feeling down, burying it where I hid all the questions I was too scared to ask.

After all, it was my husband who found that doctor. He was the one who held my hand when I couldn’t remember my own name. He was the one who stayed beside me when I couldn’t walk, couldn’t think, and couldn’t even trust myself. He took care of me when I was at my weakest, when I was nothing but a broken memory in a hospital bed.

How could I possibly doubt the man who saved me?

So I smiled, nodded, and pretended everything was okay.

Even if, deep inside, a small part of me was starting to tremble, wondering if trusting him blindly was the right thing to do.

Cynthia sighed, clearly unconvinced but too kind to push further. “If you say so,” she murmured, though worry still clouded her eyes. She

gave me a soft smile before glancing around the shop. “Your flowers look beautiful today. You always make this place feel alive.”

I chuckled lightly. “That’s the goal. If I can’t fix my own head, at least I can make the world a little prettier, right?”

She laughed, then we finished our transaction, and she left with er usual bouquet in hand.

XO VOUC1813

The bell above the door chimed as she stepped out, and just like that, silence settled once more–soft, familiar, and strangely lonely.

I leaned against the counter, pressing my hand to my temple when the dull ache began again. It started as a faint throb, then slowly bloomed into something heavier, something that clawed is way behind my eyes. My breath hitched, and I had to grip the edge of the table just to steady myself.

He smiled, but his smile didn’t bring warmth into my heart. It even gives me the creeps sometimes, as if he were hiding something behind that smile. “That’s why you’re having a headache. Let me get a glass of water for you,” he said before going to the back of the shop where the pantry is to get a glass of water. Once he returned, he was already holding the bottle of medicine I had in my bag together with the glass of water. “Here you go,” he said as he handed me those two.

I stared at his hands for a minute. I don’t know why it crossed my mind, but I suddenly remember what Cynthia said. I’m starting to doubt whether this medicine was making me better on the opposite.

But despite my suspicion, I still decided to take it. I forced a smile on my face before reaching for the glass and the medicine. He watches me like a hawk as I drink it. He looked relieved once he saw me take it.

“You shouldn’t push yourself too hard. Close early today if you have to. I’ll take care of everything.”

He always said the right things. Always played the perfect husband. Caring. Supportive. Attentive. So, why did some small part of me tremble around him?

Why did it feel like there was something he wasn’t saying, something I wasn’t seeing?

He brushed my hair away from my face, fingers gentle but firm, like he was afraid I’d slip away if he didn’t hold on tight enough. “Just trust me,” he whispered softly. “You don’t need to think about the past. What matters is now. Me and you. Our

life.”

I nodded… Because what else was I supposed to do?

But deep inside, beneath the carefully built walls and forced smiles, a tiny spark of unease flickered.

Something didn’t feel right.

And I had the strange, terrifying feeling that if I ever remembered everything…

My whole world might come crashing down again.